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LECTURES 

WO 


O  N 


METAPHYSICS  AND  LOGIC 


BY 


SIR  WILLIAM  HAMILTON,  BART. 

PROFESSOR    OF    LOGIC    AND    METAPHYSICS    IN    THE    UNIVERSITY    OF    EDINBURGH  ; 

AD"OCArE,    A.   51.  (OXOX.),  ETC.;    CORRESPONDING    MEMBER    OF    THE    INSTITUTE    OF    FRANCE;    BONOBAST 

MEMbER  OF  THE  AMERICAN  ACADEMY  OF  ARTS  AND   SCIENCES  ;  AND  OF  JUE 

LATIH    SOCIETY  OF  JE.na,  »TC. 


EDITED     BY 

THE  REV.  HENRY  L.  MANSEL,  R.  D.,  OXFORD, 

AND 

JOHN  VEITCH,  M.  A..  EDLNBURGH. 

IN   T"WO   VOLUMES. 

VOL.    L 

,    ..METAPHYSICS. 
'.  •  •  •  .*      •••  ;••     •*•    . 

'  •    •   .  •••  :     *../••• 

•  •  •  •   » 1 , ,  . 


•  .......        .,, 

•  .  *!      •    *  ' 


ISTEW    YOKK: 
SHELDON    AND    COMPANY, 


^^  ^4 


AUTHORIZATION 


MEbiSRS.  GOULD  AND  LI^"COL^•,  OF  BOSTON,  UNITED  STATES,  AHE  EXCLUSIVELY  AUTHOR- 
IZED BY  ME  TO  PUBLISH  IN  AMEISICA  THE  LECTURES,  METAPHYSICA  L  AND  LOGICAL, 
OF  THE  LATE  SIR  WILLIAM  HAMILTON,  BAKT. 

HXTBEKT    HAMILTON. 
10  Cheat  Kino  Street, 

ruiNULKGii,  14  Sept..  1853. 


'     'c'         » 


t     I    I   I    I     J 


3 

LE'CTURE 


ON 


ETAPHYSIC 


BY 


SIR  WILLIAM  HAMILTON,  EARTo 

:?EOirrssorv  of  logic  and  metaphysics  in  the  ukiveksitt  op  EDursuEQa 


EDITED   BY   TEE 


REY.  HENRY  LONGUEVILLE  MANSEL.  B.  D.,  OXFORD, 

AND 

JOHN  VEITCH,  M.  A.,  EDINBURGH. 


ISTEW    YORK: 
SHELDON    AND     COMPANY, 


CK  EAnTII,   THERE  IS  KCTHlWG  GliEAT  DTIT  MAKJ 
22«  SIAK,   "i-HSr-E  iS  HOTH3WG   QKEAT  BUT  MIKI> 


I>REFA.C  E. 


The  following  Lectures  on  Metaphysics  constitute  the  first  portion 
of  the  Biennial  Course  which  the  lamented  Author  was  in  the  habit 
of  delivering  during  the  period  of  his  occupation  of  the  Chair  of 
Logic  and  Metaphysics,  in  the  University  of  Edinburgh.  The  Lec- 
.tures  on  Logic,  which  were  delivered  in  the  alternate  years,  will 
follow  as  soon  as  they  can  be  prepared  for  publication. 

In  giving  these  Lectures  to  the  world,  it  is  due,  both  to  the  Author 
and  to  his  readers,  to  acknowledge  that  they  do  not  appear  in  that 
state  of  completeness  which  might  have  been  expected,  had  they  been 
prepared  for  publication  by  the  Author  himself.  As  Lectures  on 
Metaphysics,  —  whether  that  term  be  taken  in  its  wider  or  its  stricter 
sense,  —  they  are  confessedly  imperfect.  The  Author  himself,  adopting 
^  the  Kantian  division  of  the  mental  faculties  into  those  of  Knowledge, 
Feeling,  and  Conation,  considers  the  Philosophy  of  Mind  as  compre- 
hending, in  relation  to  each  of  these,  the  three  great  subdivisions  of 
Psychology,  or  the  Science  of  the  Pha^nomena  of  Mind ;  Nomology, 
or  the  Science  of  its  Laws :  and  Ontology,  or  the  Science  of  Results 
and  Inferences.^  The  term  Metaphysics,  in  its  strictest  sense,  is 
synonymous  with  the  last  of  these  subdivisions ;  while,  in  its  widest 
flense,  it  may  be   regarded   as   including   the  first   also,  —  the  seoond 

I  See  below,  Lecture  vii.,  p  86  <<  Mq. 


VI  PREFACE. 

being,  in  practice  at  least,  if  not  in  scientific  accuracy,  usually  dis- 
tributed among  other  departments  of  Philosophy.  The  following 
Lectures  cannot  be  considered  as  embracing  the  whole  province  ol" 
Metaphysics  in  either  of  the  above  senses.  Among  the  Phtenomena 
of  Mind,  the  Cognitive  Faculties  are  discussed  fully  and  satisfactorily ; 
those  of  Feeling  are  treated  with  less  detail ;  those  of  Conation  receive 
scarcely  any  special  consideration  ;  while  the  questions  of  Ontology,  or 
Metaphysics  proper,  are  touched  upon  only  incidentally.  The  omission 
of  any  special  discussion  of  this  last  branch  may  perhaps  be  justified 
by  its  abstruse  character,  and  unsuitableness  for  a  course  of  elementary 
instruction ;  but  it  is  especially  to  be  regretted,  both  on  account  of  the 
general  neglect  of  this  branch  of  study  by  the  entire  school  of  Scottish 
philosophers,  and  also  on  account  of  the  eminent  qualifications  which 
the  Author  possessed  for  supplying  this  acknowledged  deficiency.  A 
treatise  on  Ontology  from  the  pen  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  embodying 
the  final  results  of  the  Philosophy  of  the  Conditioned,  would  have 
been  a  boon  to  the  philosophical  world  such  as  probably  no  writer 
now  living  is  capable  of  conferring. 

The  circumstances  under  which  these  Lectures  were  written  must 
also  be  taken  into  account  in  estimating  their  character,  both  as  a 
specimen  of  the  Author's  powers,  and  as  a  contribution  to  philo- 
sophical literature. 

Sir  William  Hamilton  was  elected  to  the  Chair  of  Logic  and 
Metaphysics  in  July,  1836.  In  the  interval  between  his  appointment 
and  the  commencement  of  the  College  Session  (November  of  the 
same  year),  the  Author  was  assiduously  occupied  in  making  prepara- 
tion for  discharging  the  duties  of  his  office.  The  principal  part  of 
those  duties  consisted,  according  to  the  practice  of  the  University,  in 
the  delivery  of  a  Course  of  Lectures  on-  the  subjects  assigned  to  the 
chair.  On  his  appointment  to  the  Professorship,  Sir  William  Hamilton 
experienced  considerable  difficulty  in  deciding  on  the  character  of  the 


PREFACE.  Vn 

course  of  Lectures  on  Philosophy,  which,  while  doing  justice  to  the 
subject,  would  at  the  same  time  meet  the  wants  of  his  auditors,  who 
were  ordinarily  composed  of  comparatively  young  students,  in  (lie 
second  year  of  their  university  curriculum.  The  Author  of  the  artichi^ 
on  Cousin's  Philosophy,^  on  Perception^-  and  on  Logic^'  had  already 
given  ample  proof  of  those  speculative  accomplishments,  and  that 
profound  philosophical  learning,  which,  in  Britain  at  least,  were  con- 
joined in  an  equal  degree  by  no  other  man  of  his  time.  But  those 
very  qualities  which  placed  him  in  the  front  rank  of  speculative 
thinkers,  joined  to  his  love  of  precision  and  system,  an<l  his  lofty 
ideal  of  philosophical  composition,  served  but  to  make  him  the  more 
keenly  alive  to  the  requirements  of  his  subject,  and  to  the  difficulties 
that  lay  in  the  way  of  combining  elementary  instruction  in  Philosophy 
with  the  adequate  discussion  of  its  topics.  Hence,  although  even  at 
this  period  his  methodized  stores  of  learning  were  ample  and  pertinent, 
the  opening  of  the  College  Session  found  him  still  reading  and  reflecting, 
and  unsatisfied  with  even  the  small  portion  of  matter  which  he  had 
been  able  to  commit  to  writing.  His  first  Course  of  Lectures  (Meta- 
physical) thus  fell  to  be  written  during  the  currency  of  the  Session 
(1836-7).  The  Author  was  in  the  habit  of  delivering  three  Lectures 
each  week ;  and  each  Lecture  was  usually  written  on  the  day,  or.  m<»n 
properly,  on  the  evening  and  night,  preceding  its  delivery.  The  C<iurs<» 
of  Metaphysics,  as  it  is  now  given  to  the  world,  is  the  result  of  thi^ 
nightly    toil,    unremittingly    sustained    for    a     perio<l    of    five    nionth>. 

These  Lectures  were  thus  designed  solely  for  a  temporary  purpos< 

the  use  of  the  Author's  own  clas.ses ;  they  wcic  moreover,  always 
regarded  by  the  Author  himself  as  defective  as  a  complete  (  oni-e  of 
Metaphysics  ;  and  they  never  were  revised  by  liiin  w  illi  ,uiy  view  tn 
publication,  and  this  chiefly  for  the  reason  tliai  he  intended  to  make 
use  of   various  portions   of   them  whicii   had   not  been   ineor}xirateii    in 

1  Edinburgh  Rfvieic,  1829.  2  Ibid.,  1830.  '  Ibid..  1«B 


VIII  PREFACE. 

his  other  writings,  in  the  promised  Supplementary  Dissertations  to 
Reid's  Works,  —  a  design  which  his  failing  health  did  not  perjnit 
him  to  complete. 

The  Lectures  on  Logic  were  not  composed  until  the  following  Session 
(1837—8).  This  Course  was  also,  in  great  part,  written  during  the 
currency  of  the  Session, 

These  circumstances  will  account  for  the  repetition,  in  some  places, 
of  portions  of  the  Author's  previously  published  writings,  and  for  the 
numerous  and  extensive  quotations  from  other  writers,  which  are  inter- 
spersed throughout  the  present  Course.  Most  of  these  have  been 
ascertained  by  references  furnished  by  the  Author  himself,  either  in 
the  manuscript  of  the  present  Lectures,  or  in  his  Common  Place  Book. 
These  quotations,  while  they  detract  in  some  degree  from  the  originality 
of  the  work,  can,  however,  hardly  be  considered  as  lessening  its  value. 
Many  of  the  authors  quoted  are  but  little  known  in  this  country ;  and 
the  extracts  from  their  writings  will,  to  the  majority  of  readers,  have 
all  the  novelty  of  original  remarks.  They  also  exhibit,  in  a  remarkable 
degree,  the  Author's  singular  power  of  appreciating  and  making  use 
of  every  available  hint  scattered  through  those  obscurer  regions  of 
thought,  through  which  his  extensive  reading  conducted  him.  No 
part  of  Sir  William  Hamilton's  writings  more  completely  verifies  the 
remark  of  his  American  critic,  Mr.  Tyler :  "  There  seems  to  be  not 
even  a  random  thought  of  any  value,  which  has  been  dropped  along 
any,  even  obscure,  path  of  mental  activity,  in  any  age  or  country,  that 
his  diligence  has  not  recovered,  his  sagacity  appreciated,  and  his  judg- 
ment husbanded  in  the  stores  of  his  knowledge."^  Very  frequently, 
indeed,  the  thought  which  the  Author  selects  and  makes  his  own, 
acquires  its  value  and  significance   in  the   very  process  of   selection; 


1   Princeton   Review,  October,   1855.      This       of  Philosophy  in  the   Poit  and  in  the  Futwre. 
article  has  since  been  republished  with  the      Philadelphia,  1338. 
Antbor's  name,  in  bis  Essay  on  the  Progress 


PREFACE.  IX 

and  the  contribution  is  more  enriclicd  than  the  .adopter;  for  what,  in 
another,  is  but  a  passing  reflection,  seen  in  a  faint  light,  isolated  and 
fruitless,  often  rises,  in  the  hands  of  Sir  William  Hamilton,  to  the  rank 
of  a  great,  permanent,  and  luminous  principle,  receives  its  appro[)riat(' 
place  in  the  order  of  truths  to  which  it  belongs,  and  proves,  in  many 
instances,  a  centre  of  radiation  over  a  wide  expanse  of  the  field  of 
human  knowledge. 

The  present  volume  may  also  appear  to  some  disadimntage  on  account 
of  the  length  of  time  which  has  elapsed  between  its  composition  and 
its  publication.  Other  writings,  particularly  the  Dissertations  appended 
to  Raid's  Works,^  and  part  of  the  new  matter  in  the  Discussions,  though 
earlier  in  point  of  publication,  contain  later  and  more  mature  phases 
of  the  Author's  thought,  on  some  of  the  questions  discussed  in  the 
following  pages.  Much  that  would  have  been  new  to  English  readers 
twenty  years  ago,  has,  subsequently,  in  a  great  measure  by  the  instru- 
mentality of  the  Author  himself,  become  well  known  ;  and  the  familiar 
expositions  designed  for  the  oral  instruction  of  beginners  in  philos- 
ophy, have  been  eclipsed  by  those  profounder  reflections  which  have 
been  published  for  the  deliberate  study  of  the  philosophical  world  at 
large. 

But,  when  all  these  deductions  have  been  made,  the  work  before  us 
will  still  i-emain  a  noble  monument  of  the  Author's  philosopliical 
genius  and  learning.  In  many  respects,  indeed,  it  is  quaiitifl  to 
iKJCome  more  popular  than  any  of  his  other  publications.  The  very 
necessity  which  the  Author  was  under,  of  adapting  his  observations, 
in  some  degz"ee,  to  the  needs  and  attainments  of  his  hearei-s,  ha-^  also 
fitted  them  for  the  instruction  and  gratification  of  a  wide  circle  of' 
general  readers,  who  would  have  less  relish  for  tli<'  severer  style  in 
which  some  of  his  later  thoughts  are  conveyed.     The  present   Lectures, 

>  The/oo«-nolM  to  Reid  were,  for  the  most  part,  written  nearly  contemporaneouily  with 
the  present  Lectures. 


X  PREFACE. 

H"  in  depth  and  exactness  of"  thought  they  are,  for  the  most  part^  not 
equal  to  the  jyissertations  on  Reid,  or  to  some  portions  of  the  Discus- 
sions, possess  attractions  of  their  own,  which  will  probably  recommend 
ihem  to  a  more  numerous  class  of  admirers;  while  they  retain,  in  no 
small  degree,  the  ample  learning  and  philosophical  acunien  which  are 
identified  with  the  Author's  previous  reputation. 

Apart,  however,  from  considerations  of  their  intrinsic  value,  thes« 
Lectures  possess  a  high  academical  and  historical  interest.  For  twenty 
years,  —  from  183G  to  1856,  —  the  Courses  of  Logic  and  Metaphysics 
were  the  means  through  which  Sir  William  Hamilton  sought  to  disci- 
pline and  imbue  with  his  philosophical  opinions,  the  numerous  youth 
wlio  gathered  from  Scotland  and  other  countries  to  his  class-room ; 
and  while,  by  these  prelections,  the  Author  supplemented,  developed, 
and  moulded  the  National  Philosophy,  —  leaving  thereon  the  inefface- 
able impress  of  his  genius  and  learning,  —  he,  at  the  same  time  and 
by  the  same  means,  exercised  over  the  intellects  and  feelings  of  his 
pupils  an  influence  which,  for  depth,  intensity,  and  elevation,  was 
certainly  never  surpassed  by  that  of  any  philosophical  instructor. 
Among  liis  pupils  there  are  not  a  few  who,  having  lived  for  a  season 
under  tlie  consti-aining  power  of  his  intellect,  and  been  led  to  reflect 
on  those  great  questions  regarding  the  character,  origin,  and  bounds 
of  human  knowledge,  which  liis  teachings  stirred  and  quickened,  bear 
the  memory  of  their  beloved  and  revered  Instructor  inseparably  blended 
with  what  is  highest  in  their  present  intellectual  life,  as  well  as  in 
their  practical  aims  and  aspirations. 

The  Editors,  in  offering  these  Lectures  to  the  public,  are,  therefore, 
encouraged  to  express  their  belief,  that  they  will  not  be  found  unworthy 
of  the  illustrious  name  which  they  bear.  In  the  discharge  of  their 
own  duties  as  annotators,  the  Editors  have  tfiought  it  due  to  the  fame 
of  the  Author,  to  leave  his  opinions  to  be  judged  entirely  by  their  own 
merits,   without    the    accompaniment  of   criticisms,   concurrent   or   dis* 


PREFACE.  XI 

sentient.  For  the  same  reason,  they  have  abstained  from  noticing 
such  criticisms  as  have  appeared  on  those  portions  of  the  work  which 
have  already  been  published  in  other  forms.  Their  own  annotations 
are,  for  the  most  part,  confined  to  occasional  explanations  and  verifi' 
cations  of  the  numerous  references  and  allusions  scattered  through  the 
text.     The  notes  fall,  as  will  be  observed,  into  three  classes: 

I.  Original ;  notes  printed  from  the  manuscript  of  the  present 
Lectures.  These  appear  without  any  distinctive  mai-k.  Mere  Jottings 
or  Memoranda  by  the  Author,  made  on  the  manuscript,  are  generally 
marked  as  such.  To  these  are  also  added  a  few  Oi-al  Interpolations 
of  the  Author,  made  in  the  course  of  reading  the  Lectures,  which 
have  been  recovered  from  the  note-books  of  students. 

II.  Supplied ;  notes  extracted  or  compiled  by  the  Editors  from  the 
Author's  Common  Place  Book  and  fragmentary  papers.  These  are 
enclosed  in  square  brackets,  and  are  without  signature. 

m.  Editorial ;  notes  added  by  the  Editors.  These  always  bear 
the  signature  '*  Ed."  When  added  as  supplementary  to  the  original 
or  supplied  notes,  they  are  generally  enclosed  in  square  brackets, 
besides  having  the  usual  signature. 

The  Editors  ha\e  been  at  pains  to  trace  and  examine  the  notes 
of  the  first  and  second  classes  with  much  care ;  and  have  succeeded 
in  discovering  the  authorities  referred  to,  with  veiy  few  and  insignificant 
exceptions.  The  Editors  trust  that  the  Original  and  Supplied  Notes 
may  prove  of  service  to  students  of  Philosophy,  as  indications  of  sources 
of  philosopliical  opinions,  which,  in  many  cases,  are  but  little,  if  at  all, 
known  in  this  country. 

The  Appendix  embraces  a  few  papers,  chiefly  fragmentary,  which 
appeared  to  the  Editors  to  be  deserving  of  publication.  Several  of 
these  are  fragments  of  discussions  which  the  Author  had  written  with 


Xn  PREFACE. 

a  view  to  the  Memoir  of  ^Ir.  Dugald  Stewart,  on  the  editorship  ot 
whose  works  he  was  engaged  at  the  period  of  his  death.  They  thus 
possess  the  melancholy  interest  which  attaches  to  the  latest  of  his 
compositions.  To  these  philosophical  fragments  have  been  added  a 
few  papers  on  physiological  subjects.  These  consist  of  an  extract  from 
the  Author's  Lectures  on  Phrenology,  and  communications  made  by 
him  to  various  medical  publications.  Apart  from  the  value  of  their 
results,  these  physiological  investigations  serve  to  exhibit,  in  a  depart- 
ment of  inquiry  foreign  to  the  class  of  subjects  with  which  the  mind 
of  the  Author  was  ordinarily  occupied,  that  habit  of  careful,  accurate, 
and  unsparing  research,  by  which  Sir  William  Hamilton  was  so  emi- 
nently characterized. 


CONTEI^TS. 


• 


LECTURE    I. 

PAOB 

PHILOSOPHY  — ITS  ABSOLUTE  UTILITY, 

(A)  SUBJECTIVE, .  1 


LECTURE    II. 

PHILOSOPHY  — ITS  ABSOLUTE  UTILITY, 

(B)  OBJECTIVE, 14 


LECTURE    III. 

PHILOSOPHY  — ITS  NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION,      ....      31 


LECTURE    IV. 

PHILOSOPHY  —  ITS  CAUSES 46 

LECTURE    V. 

PHILOSOPHY  —  THE  DISPOSITIONS  WITH  WHICH  IT  OUGHT  TO  BE 

STUDIED, 57 

C 


XIV  CONTENTS. 

LECTURE    VI. 

PHILOSOPHY  — ITS  METHOD, 


FAOK 


LECTURE    VII. 

PHILOSOPHY-  ITS  DIVISIONS 78 


LECTURE    VIII. 

PSYCHOLOGY  —  ITS  DEFINITION  —  EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS,       .       .      91 


LECTURE    IX. 

EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS  —  RELATIVITY  OF  HUMAN  KNOVS^LEDGE,       107 


LECTURE    X. 

EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS, 117 


LECTURE    XI. 

OUTLINE   OF    DISTRIBUTION   OF   MENTAL  PHjENOMENA  —  CON- 

SCTOUSNESS— ITS  SPECIAL  CONDITIONS, 126 


LECTURE    XII. 

CONSaOUSNESS  — ITS  SPECIAL  CONDITIONS  —  RELATION  TO  COG- 
NITIVE FACULTIES  IN  GENERAL, US 


CONTENTS.  XV 

LECTURE    XIII. 

FAOB 

CONSCIOUSNESS  — ITS  SPECIAL  CONDITIONS  — RELATION  TO  COG- 
NITIVE FACULTIES  IN  GENERAL, 154 

LECTURE    XIV. 

CONSCIOUSNESS  —  ATTENTION  IN  GENERAL, 171 


LECTURE    XV. 

CONSCIOUSNESS  — ITS  EVIDENCE  AND  AUTHORITY,      ....     183 


LECTURE    XVI. 

CONSCIOUSNESS  — VIOLATIONS  OF  ITS  AUTHORITT,     .        .        .       .      193 


LECTv::«ii:  xvii. 

CONSCIOUSNESS  —  GENERAL    PHENOMENA  —  ARE    WE    ALWAYS 

CONSCIOUSLY  ACTIVE  ? 216 


LECTURE    XVIII. 

CONSCIOUSNESS  —  GENERAL   I'lLENOMENA  —  IS  THE  MIND  EVER 

UNCONSCIOUSLY  ^lOIMITED  ? 235 


LECTURE    XIX. 

CONSCIOUSNESS  —  GENERAL    riLKNOMENA  —  PIFFICULTreS    AND 

FACILITIES  OF  PSYCHOLOGICAL  STUDY 253 


XVI  CONTENTS. 


LECTURE    XX. 

FAQB 

DISTRIBUTION  OF  THE  SPECIAL  COGNITIVE  FACULTIES,        .        .      267 


LECTURE    XXI. 

THE    PRESENTATIVE    FACULTY  — I.  PERCEPTION  —  REID'S    HISTORI- 
CAL VIEW  OF  THE  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION,     .        .        .        .      279 


LECTURE    XXII. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE    FACULTY  — I.    PERCEPTION  —  REID'S  HISTORI- 
CAL VIEW  OF  THE  THEORIES  OF  PERCEPTION,     .        ,    .    .        .297 


LECTURE    XXIII. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY  —  I,  PERCEPTION  —  WAS  REID  A  NAT- 
URAL REALIST  ? 311 


LECTURE    XXIV. 

THE    PRESENTATIVE    FACULTY  —  I.    PERCEPTION  —  THE    DISTINC- 
TION OF  PERCEPTION  PROPER  FROM   SENSATION  PROPER,      .      327 


LE  CTURE    XXV. 

THE    PRESENT ATF^E    FACULTY  — I.    PERCEPTION  —  OBJECTIONS  TO 
THE  DOCTRINE  OF  NATURAL  REALISM, 348 


LECTURE    XXVI. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE    FACULTY  — I.    PERCEPTION  —  THE  REPRESEN- 
TATIVE HYPOTHESIS, 361 


CONTENTS.  XVn 


LECTURE    XXVII. 

Age 
THE  KiESENTATIVE  FACULTY  — I.    PERCEPTION  —  GENERAL  QUES- 
TIONS IN  RELATION  TO  THE  SENSES, 373 


LECTURE    XXVIII. 

THE    PRESENTATIVE    FACULTY  -  I.    PERCEPTION  -  RELATION    OF 
SIGHT  AND  TOUCH  TO  EXTENSION, 384 


LECTURE    XXIX. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY  —  U.  SELF-CONSCIOUSNESS,      .        .      39T 


LECTURE    XXX. 

THE  CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY— MEMORY  PROPER 411 


LECTURE    XXXI. 

THE  REPRODUCTIVE  FACULTY  —  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION,        .        .      424 


LECTURE    XXXII. 

THE  REPRODUCTIVE  FACULTY  —  LAWS  OF  ASSOCIATION  —  SUGGES- 
TION-REMINISCENCE  <36 


LECTURE    XXXIII. 

THE  REPRESENTATIVE  FACULTY  —  IMAGINATION 450 


XVIII  CONTENTS. 


LECTURE    XXXIV. 

PAOB 

THE  ELABORATIVE  FACULTY  —  CLASSIFICATION  —  ABSTRACTION,       463 


LECTURE    XXXV. 

THE    ELABORATIVE     FACULTY  —  GENERALIZATION,     NOMINALISM, 
AND  CONCEPTUALISM, 473 


LECTURE    XXXVI. 

THE    ELABORATIVE    FACULTY  — GENERALIZATION  — THE    PRIMUM 
COGNITUM, .        .      48» 


LECTURE    XXXVII. 

THE  ELABORATIVE  FACULTY  —  JUDGMENT  AND  REASONIUG,        .      502 


LECTURE    XXXVIII. 

THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY, 512 


LECTURE    XXXIX. 

THE  REGULATIVE    FACULTY  — LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED  IN  ITS 
APPLICATIONS  — CAUSALITY, 33a 


LECTURE  ^L 


THE  REGULATIVE    FACULTY  —  LAW  OF  THE  CONDITIONED  IN  ITS 
APPLICATIONS  —  CAUSALITY, 350 


CONTENTS.  XIX 

LECTURE    XLI. 

•  PAGK 

SECOND  GREAT  CLASS  OF  MENTAL  PHENOMENA  — THE  FEELINGS. 
THEIR  CHARACTER  AND  RELATION  TO  THE  COGNITIONS  AND 
CONATIONS,    .        .  .->59 


LECTURE    XLII. 

THE  FEELINGS— THEORY  OF  PLEASURE  AND  PAIN,  .        .        .      .571 


LECTURE     XLIII. 

THE   FEELINGS  — HISTORICAL  ACCOUNT   OF  THEORIES 
URE  AND  PAIN, 


LECTURE    XL  IV. 

THE  FEELINGS  —  APPLICATION  OF  THE  THEORY  OF  PLEASURE  AND 
PAIN  TO  THE  PHiENOMENA, 602 


LECTURE    XLV. 

THE  FEELINGS  — THEIR  CLASSES, 61J 


LECTURE    XLVI. 

THE  FEELINGS  — THEIR  CLASSES  — THE  BEAUTIFUL  AND  SUBLIME,    623 


3Uf  'JONTENTS. 

APPENDIX. 

VAOB 

I.  — (A)  ACADEMICAL  HONORS, 635 

(B)  THE  SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY— FRAGMENTS. 

(a)  PORTION  OF  INTRODOCTORT  LECTURE  (1836),             .           .          .  t>40 

(^)  M.  JOUFFROY'S  criticism  of  the  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL,       .          .  645 

(C)  GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  THE  SCOTTISH  SCHOOL,              .  646 

(d)  KANT  AND  REID, ,646 

(e)  KANT'S  DOCTRINE  OF  SPACE  AND  TIME, 647 

n.  —  PHYSIOLOGICAL. 

•  (a)    PHRENOLOGY, 648 

(6)   EXPERIMENTS  ON  THE  WEIGHT  OF  THE  BRAIN,         .          .          .  6-59 

(c)  REMARKS  ON  DR.  MORTON'S  TABLES, 660 

(d)  ON  THE  FRONTAL  SINUS, 662 

III.  —  PERCEPTION,      , 6T7 

IV.  — LAWS  OF  THOUGHT,       .                679 

v.— THE  CONDITIONED. 

(a)    rant's  DOCTRINE   OF  JUDGMENTS,  AND   AUTHOE's  THEORY 

OF   NECESSITY, 681 

(6)    CONTRADICTIONS    PROVING    THE     PSYCHOLOGICAL    THEORY 

OF   THE   CONDITIONED,             .......  682 

(C)    THE  ABSOLUTE  —  DISTINCTIONS    OF   MODE   OF   REACHING  IT,  68? 

(d)  LETTER  OF  SIR  \V.  Il.i^MILTOK    TO   JIR.    HENRY  CALDEEWOOD,  684 

(e)  THE   DOCTRINE    OF    RELATION, 688 

VI.  — CAUSATION  — LIBERTY  AND  NECESSITY. 

(a)  CAUSATION 689 

(6)    LIBERTY    AND    NECESSITY,   AS    VIEWED    BY    THE    SCOTTISH 

SCHOOL, 69y 

(c)    LIBERTY    AND   NKCE33ITY, 693 


LECTURES  ON  METAPHYSICS 


LECTURE    I. 

PHILOSOPHY— ITS  ABSOLUTE   UTILITY 

(a.)     subjectivk. 

Gentlkmex  —  In  the  commencement  of  a  course  of  ins'^ruction 

in  any  department  of  knOAvle<lge,  it  is  usual,  be- 

rniLosoPHY:  fQj.(3  entering  on  the  leguhxr  consideration  of  the 

its  benefits  and  plea-  ^  •      j.    ^  •  ^  i  i?  >.i 

subiect,  to  premise  a  general  survey  ot  the  more 
important  advantage-!  Avliich  it  aff(?rds,  and  this 
with  the  view  of  animating  tlie  student  to  a  higher  assiduity,  by 
holding  u}}  to  him,  in  prospect,  some  at  least  of  those  ]»enefits  and 
pleasures  which  he  may  j^romise  to  himself  in  reward  cf  his  ex- 
ertions. 

And  if  such  a  preparation  be  fotmd  expedient  for  other  branches 

of  study,  it  is,  I  tliink,  peculiarly  requisite  m  I'hil- 

Tiio   exhibition   of       osopliv,  —  Philosophy  Proper,  —  the  Sci'.Micc  of 

these,  why    i)eculiaily         -»r-     n  '      t.         •         i        f>  i  ■,  .    ■ 

j^jjjjj^jj^  Mnid.     J^or,  ni  the  nrst  place,  the  most  import- 

ant advantages  to  be  derived  from  the  cultiva- 
tion of  philoso]ihy,  are  not,  in  themselves,  direct,  palpable,  obtru- 
sive :  they  are,  therefore,  of  their  own  nature,  peculiarly  liable  to 
be  overlooked  or  disparaged  by  the  world  at  large  ;  because  to 
estimate  them  at  their  proper  value  requires  in  the  judge  more  than 
a  vulgar  com] dement  of  intormation  and  intelligence.  But,  in  the 
second  ])Iace,  the  many  are  not  simply  by  negative  incompetence 
disqualified  for  an  opinion  ;  they  are,  moreover,  by  positive  error, 
at  once  rendered  incapable  of  judging  right;  and  yet,  by  jiositive 
error,  encouraged  to  a  decision.  For  there  are  at  present  afloat, 
and  in  very  general  acceptation,  certain  superficial  misconceptions 
in  regard  to  the  end  and  objects  of  education,  which  render  the 
popular  opinion  of  the  comj)arative  inqiortance  of  its  different 
branches,  not  merely  false,  but  precisely  the  revei-se  of  truth :  the 


2  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  L 

Studies  which,  in  reality,  are  of  the  highest  value  as  a  mean  of  intel- 
lectual development,  being  those  which,  on  the  vulgar  standard  of 
utility,  are  at  the  very  bottom  of  the  scale  ;  while  those  wliich,  in 
the  nomenclature  of  the  multitude,  are  emphatically,  —  distinc- 
tively, denominated  the  Useful,  are  precisely  those  which,  in  relation 
to  the  great  ends  of  liberal  education,  possess  the  least,  and  least 
general,  utility. 

In  considering  the  utility  of  a  branch  of  knowledge,  it  behooves 

us,  in   the  first   place,  to  estimate  its  value  as 

utility  of  a  branch       viewed  simply  in  itself;  and,  in  the  second,  its 

of  knowledge  of  two       ^^j^^g  ^^  viewed  in  relation  to  other  branches. 

grand  kinds  -  Abso-  .  i  •      -^      ,/.  •  •  i       i  i      • 

lute  and  Relative.  Considered  in  Itself,  a  science  is  valuable  in  pro- 

portion as  its  cultivation  is  immediately  condu- 
cive to  the  mental  improvement  of  the  cultivator.  This  may  be 
called  its  Absolute  utility.  In  relation  to  others,  a  science  is  valu- 
able in  proportion  as  its  study  is  necessary  for  the  prosecution  of 
other  branches  of  knowledge.  This  may  be  called  its  Relative 
utility.  In  this  latter  point  of  view,  tliat  is  as  relatively  useful, 
I  cannot  at  present  enter  upon  the  value  of  Philosopliy,  —  I  cannot 
attempt  to  show  how  it  supplies  either  the  materials  or  the  rules 
to  all  the  sciences ;  and  how,  in  particular,  its  study  is  of  impor- 
tance to  the  Lawyer,  the  Physician,  and,  above  all,  to  the  Theolo- 
gian.    All  this  I  must  for  the  present  pass  by. 

In  the  former  point  of  view,  that  is,  considered  absolutely,  or  in 
itself,  the  philosophy  of  mind  comprises  two  sev- 

Absoiute  utility  of      g^.^j  utilities,  according  as  it,  1°,  Cultivates  the 

two    kinds  —  Subject-  •     i  i  •  i  •  i  it         •       /.        i   • 

ive  and  Objective.  ^^^^"^^  ^^'  knowing  subjcct,  by  calling  Its  faculties 

into  exercise  ;  and,  2°,  Furnishes  the  mind  with 
a  certain  complement  of  truths  or  objects  of  knowledge.  The 
former  of  these  constitutes  its  Subjective,  the  latter  its  Objective 
utility.  These  utilities  are  not  the  same,  nor  do  they  even  stand 
to  each  other  in  any  necessary  proportion.  As  the  special  consid- 
eration of  both  is  more  than  I  can  compass  in  the  present  Lecture, 
I  am  constrained  to  limit  myself  to  one  alone  ;  and  as  the  subject- 
ive utility  is  that  which  has  usually  been  overlooked,  though  not 
assuredly  of  the  tAVO  the  less  imi>ortant,  while  at  the  same  time  its 
exposition  affords  in  part  the  rationale  of  the  method  of  instruc- 
tion which  I  have  adopted,  I  shall  at  jjresent  only  attempt  an  illus- 
tration of  the  advantages  afforded  by  the  Philosophy  of  Mind, 
regarded  as  the  study  which,  of  all  others,  best  cultivates  the  mind 
or  subject  of  knowledge,  by  supplying  to  its  higher  ficultios  the 
occasions  of  their  most  vigorous,  and  thei-efore  their  most  improving, 
exercise. 


Lect.  1.  mp:taphysics.  3 

There  are  few,  I  believe,  disposed  to  question  the  speculative  dig- 
Practicai  utility  of  "1*^7  of  mental  Science ;  but  its  practical  utility 
Philosophy.  jg  not  unfrequcntly  denied.    To  what,  it  is  asked, 

is  the  science  of  mind  conducive?     What  are  its  uses? 

I  am  not  one  of  those  who  think  that  the  importance  of  a  study 
is  sufficiently  established  Avhen  its  dignity  is  admitted  ;  for,  holding 
that  knowledge  is  for  the  sake  of  man,  and  not  man  lor  the  sake  of 
knowledge,  it  is  necessary,  in  order  to  vindicate  its  value,  that 
every  science  should  be  able  to  show  what  are  the  advantages  which 
it  promises  to  confer  upon  its  student.  I,  therefore,  profess  myself 
a  utilitarian  ;  and  it  is  only  on  the  special  ground  of  its  utility 
that  I  Avould  claim  for  the  i)hilosophy  of  mind,  M'hat  I  regard  as 

its  peculiar  and  preeminent  imiiortance.      But 

The  Useful.  ^    .  .       c      r,- 

what  is  a  utilitarian  ?  Simply  one  who  prefers 
the  Useful  to  the  Useless  —  and  who  does  not  ?  But  what  is  the 
useful  ?  That  which  is  prized,  not  on  its  own  account,  but  as  con- 
ducive to  the  acquisition  of  something  else,  —  the  useful  is,  in  short, 
only  another  word  for  a  mean  towards  an  end ;  for  every  mean  is 
useful,  and  whatever  is  useful  is  a  mean.  Now  tiie  value  of  a  mean 
is  always  in  proportion  to  the  valile  of  its  end;  and  the  useful 
being  a  mean,  it  follows,  that,  of  two  utilities,  the  one  which  con- 
duces to  the  more  valuable  end  will  be  itself  the  more  \  aluable 
utility. 

So  far  there  is  no  dilference  of  opinion.  All  agree  that  the 
useful  is  a  mean  towards  an  end ;  and  that,  cceteris  ^x<>v7/'<.!{,  a 
mean  towards  a  higher  end  constitutes  a  higher  utility  than  a  mean 
towards  a  lower.  The  only  dispute  that  has  arisen,  or  can  j>os- 
sibly  arise,  in  regard  to  the  utility  of  means  (su]i]iosing  always  their 
relative  efficiency),  is  founded  on  the  various  views  that  may  be 
entertained  in  regard  to  the  existence  and  comparative  impor- 
tance of  ends. 

Now  the   various  opinions  which   prevail  concerning  the   com- 
parative utility  of  human  sciences  and  studies, 
Two  errors  in  the       have  all  arisen  from  two  errors.' 

rM:)imlar     estimate    of  ri-ii       n      ^      c  ^i  •  ... 

the  comparative  utili-  ^  ''^  "'"^^^  of  these  cousists  HI  Viewing  man,  not 

ty  of  human  sciences.  ;is  an  end  unto  /tiiii.silj\  but  merely  as  a  mean  or- 
ganized for  the  sake  of  something  out  of  liiinKtlf: 
and,  under  this  partial  view  of  hiiiiiau  <lestination,  those  branches'of 
knowledge  obtain  e.vclusively  the  name  o^  useful,  which  tend  to  qtial- 
ify  a  human  being  to  act  the  lowly  ]>ait  of  a  dexterous  instrument. 

1  With  the  following  observations  may  be  education,  in  his  article  on  the  .<:tu(ly  of  niatlv 
compared  the  author's  remarks  on  the  dis-  ematicsi,  Edinburgh  Review,  vol.  Ixil..  p.  4091 
tiuction  between  a  liberal  and   a  professional      reprinted  iu  his /Jisd/jwioiw,  p.  263.— Ed. 


4  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  L 

The  soconrl,  and  the  more  dangerous  of  these  errors,  consists  in 
reiiarding  the  cultivation  of  our  faculties  as  subordinate  to  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  instead  of  regarding  the  possession  of 
knowledge  as  subordinate  to  the  cultivation  of  our  faculties ;  and,  in 
consequence  of  this  error,  those  sciences  which  afford  a  greater 
number  of  more  certain  facts,  have  been  deemed  superior  in  utility 
to  those  which  bestow  a  higher  cultivation  on  the  higher  faculties 
of  the  mind. 

As  to  the  first  of  these  errors,  the  fallacy  is  so  palpable,  that  we 

may  well  wonder  at  its  prevalence.     It  is  mani- 

an  an  en    un  o       ^^^.    jj-jfj^^^]  ^]^jj|.  ^nan,  in  SO  far  as  he  is  a  mean 

himself.  '  '  ' 

for  the  glory  of  God,  must  be  an  end  unto  him- 
self, for  it  is  only  in  the  accomplishment  of  his  OAvn  perfection, 
that,  as  a  creature,  he  can  manifest  the  glory  of  his  Creator. 
Though  therefore  man,  by  relation  to  God,  be  but  a  mean,  for  that 
very  reason,  in  relation  to  all  else  Is  he  an  end.  Wherefore,  now 
speaking  of  him  exclusively  in  his  natural  capacity  and  temporal 
relations,  I  say  it  is  manifest  that  man  is  by  nature  necessarily  an 
l^  end  to  himself, —  that  his  perfection  and  happiness  constitute  the 
goal  of  his  activity,  to  which  he  tends,  and  ought  to  tend,  when 
not  diverted  from  this,  his  general  and  native  destination,  by  j)ecu- 
liar  and  accidental  circumstances.  But  it  is  equally  evident,  that, 
under  the  condition  of  society,  individual  men  are,  for  the  most 
part,  to  a  greater  or  less  degree,  actually  so  diverted.  To  live,  the 
individual  must  have  the  means  of  living;  and  these  means,  (unless 
he  already  possess  them,)  he  must  i)rocure,  —  he  must  purchase. 
But  purchase  with  what  ?  With  his  services,  i.  e.  —  he  must  reduce 
himself  to  an  instrument,  —  an  instrument  of  utility  to  others,  and 
the  services  of  this  instrument  he  must,  barter  for  those  means  of 
subsistence  of  which  he  is  in  want.  In  other  words,  he  must  exer- 
cise some  trade,  calling,  or  i)rofession. 

Thus,  in  the  actualities  of  social  life,  each  man,  instead  of  being 
solely  an  end  to  himself,  —  instead  of  being  able  to  make  everything 
subordinate  to  that  full  and  harmonious  develojjment  of  his  indivi- 
dual faculties,  in  which  his  full  perfection  and  his  true  hai)pines3 
consist,  —  is,  in  general,  comj^elled  to  degrade  himself  into  the  mean 
or  instrument  towards  the  accomplishment  of  some  end,  external 
to  himself,  and  for  the  benefit  of  others. 

Now  the  perfection  of  man  as  an  end,  and  the  perfection  of 
man  as  a  mean  or  instrument,  are  not  only  not 
Liberal  and  profes-       ^^^^  ^^        ^^  .^^  reality,  generally  opi)Osed. 

sional  education.  >         j  i  ji  n  j      i  i 

And  as  these  two  perfections  are  different,  so  the 
training  requisite  for  their  acquisition  is  not  identical,  and  has,  ac- 


Lkct.  J.  METAPHYSICS.  5 

cordingly,  been  distingiiislied  by  different  names.  The  one  is  styled 
Libenil,  the  otlier  Professional  education,  —  the  bi'anches  of  knowl- 
edge cidtivated  for  these  purposes  being  called  respectively  liberal  and 
professional,  or  liberal  and  lucrative,  sciences.  By  the  Germans,  the 
latter  arc  usually  distinguished  as  the  lifodicissennc/iir/'te/i,  Avhich 
we  may  translate,  IVie  Bread  and  Butter  /Sciences}  A  few  of  the 
professions,  indeed^  as  requiring  a  higher  development  of  the  higher 
faculties  and  involving,  therefore,  a  greater  or  less  amount  of  liberal 
education,  have  obtained  the  name  of  liberal  professions.  We 
must,  however,  recollect  that  this  is  only  an  accidental  and  a  \  ery 
partial  exception.  But  though  the  full  and  liarmonious  develoji- 
ment  of  our  faculties  be  the  high  and  natural  destination  of  all, 
while  the  cultivation  of  any  professional  dexterity  is  only  a  contin- 
gency, though  a  contingency  incumbent  upon  most,  it  has,  however, 
happened  that  the  paramount  and  universal  end  of  man,  —  i^f  man 
absolutely,  —  has  been  often  ignorantly  lost  sight  of,  and  the  term 
useful  appropriated  exclusively  to  those  acquirements  which  have  a 
value  only  to  man  considered  in  his  relative,  lower,  and  accidental 
character  of  an  instrument.  But,  because  some  have  thus  been  led 
to  appropriate  the  name  of  useful  to  those  studies  and  objects 
of  knowledge,  which  are  conducive  to  the  inferior  end,  it  assuredly 

does   not   follow  that  those   conducive   xo   the 
isapp  ication  o        liigrher  have  not  a  far  preferable  title  to  the  name 

the  term  useful.  ^  ^  ^      '■ 

thus  curiously  denied  to  them.  Elven  admit- 
ting, therefore,  that  the  study  of  mind  is  of  no  immediate  advan- 
tage in  prepai'ing  the  student  for  'many  of  the  subordinate  parts  in 
the  mechanism  of  society,  its  utility  cannot,  on  that  account,  be 
called  in  question,  unless  it  be  asserted  that  man  "liveth  by  bread 
alone,''  and  has  no  higher  destination  than  that  of  the  calling  by 
which  he  earns  his  subsistence. 

The  second  error  to  which  I  have  adverted,  revei-ses  the  relative 

subordination  of  knowledge  and  of  intelleetmd 
Knowledge  and  in-       ^...itjvatiou.     In  refutation  of  this,  I  shall  attc.mpt 

tellectual  cultivation.  .  .' 

briefly  to  show,  frsf/i/,  that  knowledge  and  in- 
tellectual cultivation  are  not  identical;  stro/tdfi/^  that  knowledge 
is  itself  i)rincipally  valuable  as  a  mean  of  intellectual  cultivation  ; 
and,  Instl//,  that  intellectual  cultivation  is  more  directly  ami  effec- 
tually accomplished  by  the  study  of  mind  than  by  any  other  of  ..ur 
rational  pursuits. 

But  to  prevent  misapprehension,  I  may  pi'cmise  wliat  I  mean  by 
knowledge,  and  what  by  intellectual  cultivation.  By  knowledge  is 
understood  the  mere   |>ossession    of  truths:   bv  intellectual   cultiva- 

1  Schellinrr,  Vorlrxungfn  Mertlie  M-'thoile  ties  Academifrhtn  Slurliym,  y).  dl.  —  Kd. 


6  METAPHYSICS  Lect.  1. 

tion,  or  intellectual  development,  the  power,  acquired  through 
exercise  by  the  liigher  faculties,  of  a  more  varied,  vigorous  and  pro- 
tracted activity. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  it  Avill   be  requisite,  I   conceive,  to  say 
but  little  to  show  that  knowledge  and  intellee- 

Not  identical.  i     t  i  i  ^i 

tual  development  are  not  only  not  the  same, 
but  stand  in  no  necessary  proportion  to  each  other.  This  is  manifest 
if  we  consider  the  very  different  conditions  under  Avhich  these  two 
qualities  are  acquired.  The  one  condition  under  which  all  powers, 
and  consequently  the  intellectual  faculties,  are  developed,  is  exercise. 
The  more  intense  and  continuous  the  exercise,  the  more  vigorously 
developed  will  be  the  power. 

But  a  cei-tain  quantity  of  knowledge, — in  other  words,  a  certain 
amount  of  possessed  truths, — does  not  suppose,  as  its  condition,  a 
corresponding  sum  of  intellectual  exercise.  One  truth  requires 
much,  another  truth  requires  little,  effort  in  acquisition  ;  and,  while 
the  original  discovery  of  a  truth  evolves  perhaps  a  maximum  of 
the  highest  quality  of  energy,  the  subsequent  learning  of  that  truth 
elicits  probably  but  a  minimum  of  the  very  lowest. 

But,  as  it  is  evident  that  the  possession  of  truths,  and  the  devel- 

o])ment  of  the  mind  in  which  they  are  deposited, 

Is  truth  or  mental       ^j.^  jjq^  identical,  I  proceed,  in  the  second  place, 

exercise  the    superior  •,,  ,i.  -i  i  n  i-  i^- 

to  show  that,  considered  as  emls,  and  m  relation 

end  ?  '  ' 

to  each  other,  the  knowledge  of  truths  is  not  su- 
preme, but  subordinate  to  the  cultivation  of  the  knowing  mind.  The 
question — Is  Truth,  or  is  the  Mental  Exercise  in  the  ])ursuit  of  truth, 
the  superior  end  ? — this  is  perhaps  the  most  curious  theoretical,  and 
certainly  the  most  important  practical,  problem  in  the  whole  com- 
pass of  philosophy.  For,  according  to  the  solution  at  which  we  ar- 
rive, must  we  accord  the  higher  or  the  lower  rank  to  certain  great 
departments  of  study ;  and,  what  is  of  more  importance,  the  char- 
aoter  of  its  solution,  as  it  determines  the  aim,  regulates  from  first 
to  last  the  method,  which  an  enlightened  science  of  education  must 
adopt. 

But,  however  curious  and  important,  this  question  has  never,  in 

so  far  as  I  am  aware,  been  regularly  discussed. 

Popular  solution  of       y^^^,^  ^^.j^.^^  jg  g^j|j  ^^^^^.^  i-g, nark  able,  the  erroneous 

this  question.  i    '  •  i  i  n  i 

alternative  has  been  very  generally  assumed  as 
true.  The  consequence  of  this  has  been,  that  sciences  of  far  infe- 
rior, have  been  elevated  above  sciences  o^ar  superior,  utility ;  while 
education  has  been  systematically  distorted, — though  truth  and 
nature  have  occasionally  burst  the  shackles  which  a  ])eiverse  theory 
had  iinjjosed.     The  reason  of  this  is  sufficiently  obvious.     At  first 


Lh.cv.  1.  METAPHYSICS.  7 

sight,  it  seems  even  absurd  to  doubt  that  truth  is  more  valuable  tliaj\ 
its  ])ursuit;  for  is  this  not  to  say  that  the  end  is  loss  important  than 
the  mean?  —  and  on  this  su|)eriicial  view  is  the  prevalent  misappre- 
hension founded.  A  slight  consideration  Avill,  however,  ex])ose  the 
ialhiey. 

Knowledge  is  either  ])ractical  or  speculative.     In  practical  knowl- 
edge it  is  evident  that  truth  is  not  the  ultimate 

Practical  knowledge;         i  .    ^         ;       ii  „i  i  i     i  •  / 

"  '       end;  tor,  in  that  case,  knowled<re  is,  ex  ni/po- 

jts  end.  .     '  .        . 

thesi,  for  the  sake  of  ai)[)lication.  The  knowledge 
of  a  moral,  of  a  political,  of  a  religious  truth,  is  of  value  only  as  it 
affords  the  preliminary  or  condition  of  its  exercise. 

In  speculative  knowledge,  on  the  other  hand,  there  may  indeed, 

at  first  sight,  seem  greater  difficulty;  but  fur- 

The  end  of  specula-  ^        .  . 

tive  kiio\vied''e.  ^'^^^'  reflection  will  prove  that  speculative  truth 

is  only  pursued,  and  is  only  held  of  value,  for  the 
sake  of  intellectual  activity:  "  Sordet  cognita  Veritas"  is  a  shrewd 
aphorism  of  Seneca.  A  truth,  once  known,  falls  into  comparative 
insignificance.  It  is  now  prized,  less  on  its  own  account  than  as 
opening  up  new  ways  to  new  activity,  new  suspense,  new  hopes, 
new  discoveries,  new  self-gratulation.  Every  votary  of  science  is 
wilfully  ignorant  of  a  thousand  established  fiicts,  —  of  a  thousand 
which  he  might  make  his  own  more  easily  than  lie  could  attempt  the 
discovery  of  even  one.  But  it  is  not  knowledge,  —  it  is  not  truth,  — 
that  he  principally  seeks  ;  he  seeks  the  exercise  of  liis  fiiculties  and 
feelings;  and,  as  in  folhtwing  after  the  one  he  exerts  a  greater  amount 
of  pleasurable  energy  than  in  taking  formal  possession  of  the  thou- 
sand, he  disdains  the  certainty  of  the  many,  and  j)rcfers  the  chances 
of  the  one.  Accordingly,  the  sciences  always  studied  with  keenest 
interest  are  those  in  a  state  of  jirogress  and  uncertainty ;  absolute 
certainty  and  absolute  completion  wouM  be  the  ])aralysis  of  any 
study;  and  the  last  worst  calaiiiity  that  could  bctiill  man,  as  he  is  at 
present  constituted,  would  be  that  full  and  final  possession  of  specu- 
lative truth,  which  he  now  vainly  anticipates  as  the  consummation 
of  his  intellectual  hajipiness. 

"Quaesivit  ni'lo  Iturm.  inffcnuiitqiic  repcrta."i 

Ibit  what  is  true  of  science  is  true,  indeed,  of  all  hum;m  ac- 
tivity. "In  life,"  as  the  great  Pascal  observes,  "we  always  believe 
that  we  arc  seeking  repose,  while,  in  reality,  all  that  we  ever  seek 
is  agitation."  -     When   Pyrrhus  i)ro2)osed  to  subdue  a  part  of  the 

1  Virpil,  .Eh.  iv.  692.  —Ed.  ed.  Fnuir' r«t :  "  H.'i  croiont  cliercher  siiictr<>- 

2  PduHes,  partie  i.  art.  vii.  §  1,  (vol.  ii.  p.  .34,       niint  !•■  r<po»,  et  ue  cLercheut  eu   effet   qu« 


8  METAPHYSICS.  Lkcl  1. 

%vorkl,  anfl  then  to  enjoy  rest  among  his  friends,  he  believed  that 
what  lie  sought  was  possession,  not  pursuit ;  and  Alexander  assur- 
edly did  not  foresee  that  the  conquest  of  one  world  would  only 
leave  him  to  weep  for  another  world  to  conquer.  It  is  ever  the 
contest  that  pleases  us,  and  not  the  victory.  Thus  it  is  in  play; 
thus  it  is  in  hunting;  thus  it  is  in  the  search  of  truth  ;^  thus  it  is 
in  life.  The  past  does  not  interest,  the  present  does  not  satisfy,  the 
future  alone  is  the  object  which  engages  us. 

"  (NuUo  votorum  fine  beati) 
Vioturos  agimus  semper,  nee  vivimus  unquara."  2 

'  Man  never  is,  but  always  to  be,  blest."  3 

The  question,  I  said,  has  never  been  regularly  discussed,  —  prob- 
ably because  it  lay  in  too  narrow^  a  compass; 

How     resolved     by         ,      ^  i  -i  i  i 

,  .j^^^    j^   ^  but  no  philosopher  appears  to  have  ever  seri- 

ously proposed  it  to  himself,  who  did  not  re- 
solve it  in  contradiction  to  the  ordinary  opinion.  A  contradiction 
of  this  opinion  is  even  involved  in  the  very  term  Philosophy ; 
and  the  man  who  first  declared  that  he  was  not  a  cro^os,  or  pos- 
sessor, but  a  <^iA.o'o-o<^os/  or  seeker  of  truth,  at  once  enounced  the 
true  end  of  human  speculation,  and  embodied  it  in  a  significant 
name.  Under  the  same  conviction  Pkito  defines  man  "the  hunter 
of  truth,"  ^  for  science  is  a  chase,  and  in  a  chase  the  pursuit  is 
always  of  greater  value  than  the  game. 

"  Our  hopes,  like  towering  falcons,  aim 
At  objects  in  an  airj'  height, 
But  all  the  pleasure  of  the  game 
Is  afar  off  to  view  the  flight."  6 

"  The  intellect,"  says  Aristotle,  in  one  passage,  "  is  perfected, 
not  by  knowledge  but  by  activity ; " '  and  in  another,  "  The  arts 

Tagitation."     "Le  conseil  qu'on  donnait  a  W.  Hamilton,  however,  probably  meant  Soc- 

Pyrrlius,  de  prendre  le  repos  qu'il  allait  clier-  rates.    See  lecture  III.,  p.  47.  —  Ed. 
Cher  par  tant  de  fatigues,  recevait  bicn  des  5  xhis  denuition  is  not  to  Ik;  found  in  the 

diflicuhes."  —  Ed.  Platonic  Dialogues;  a  passage  somethiug  like 

1  '•  Rien  ne  nous  plait  que  le  combat,  mais  n  occurs  in  the  Euthydemus,  p.  290.    Cf  Diog. 

nou   pas  la  victoire  .  .  .  Ainsi   daus  le  jeu,  Laert.,  lib.  viii.  Pythagoras,  ^%.  —  '-E.v  rw  Biai, 

ainsi  dans  la  recherche  de  la  verite.    On  aime  „<  ^«^    kv^pairoU^as    ^iovTai,   S6^vs    k'oI 

•i  voir  dans  les  disputes  le  combat  des  opin-  ^^.^^^^^^s  ^vparai  oi  Si    <pi\6(Tc<poi,    t^j 

ions;  mais  de  contempler  la  verite  trouvee,  aX-n^fias- Ed. 

point  du  tout  .  .  .  Nous  ne  c'lerclions  jamais 
les  choses,  mais  la  recliercbe  des  choses  " 


0  Prior,  Lines  to  the  Hon.  C.  Montagve.  Brit- 


n        ,    r.      •         1  ■      oA-     J  T-       ■         r-„  15A  Pofts,  vol. vii.  p.  393,  (Anderson's  ed.)  —  Ed. 

Pascal,  P?nsc(!i,vol.  i.p.20),ed.  Faugere.— Ed.  <!              '^          '                           ' 

2  Manilius,  Astronotmcon,  lib.  iv.  4.  — Ed.  7  Said  of  moral  knowledge,  Ech.  Nic.  i.  3: 

3  Pope,  Essay  on  Man,  i.  9G.  —  Ed.  T4\os  ov  yvwcns,  oAAa  irpo.tis.    Cf  ibid.  i.  7, 
*  Pyfbagoras,   according   to  the   ordinary  13:  i  8.  9;  ix.  7.  4;  xi  9.7,  x  7.1.    Met.,x.i.lt 

account;  see  Cicero,  Tusc.   Qunst.  v.  3.     Sir  'H  vov  fv4pyfia  C<'>V-  —  ^^- 


X.ECT.  I.  METAniYSICS.  9- 

and  sciences  'are  powers,  but  every  power  exists  only  for  the  sake 
of  action  ;  the  end  of  i)hik)sophy,  therefore,  is  not  knowledge,  but 
the  energy  conversant  about  knowledge."'  Descending  to  the 
schoolmen:  "The  intellect,"  says  Aquinas,  "commences  in  o^jera- 
tion,  and  in  o])eration  it  ends;"-  and  Scotus  even  declares  that  a 
man's  knowledge  is  measured  by  the  amount  of  his  mental  activity 

—  "tantuni  scit  homo,  quantum  0])eratur." "  The  profoundest 
thinkers  of  modern  times  have  emphatically  testified  to  the  same 
great  principle.  "If,"  says  Malcbranche,  "I  held  truth  captive  in 
my  hand,  I  should  open  my  hand  and  let  it  fly,  in  order  that  I 
might  again  pursue  and  capture  it."  ■*  "  Did  the  .Vlmighty,"  says 
Lessing,  "holding  in  his  right  hand  Truth,  and  in  his  left  /Search 
after  J'ruth,  deign  to  tender  me  the  one  I  might  ])refer,  —  in  all 
humility,  but  without  hesitation,  I  should  request  Search  after 
Truth" ^  "Truth,"  says  Von  ^Fuller,  "is  the  property  of  God,  the 
pursuit  of  truth  is  what  belongs  to  man;""  ami  Jean  Paul 
Richter:  "It  is  not  the  goal,  but  the  course,  which  makes  us 
hapj)y."     But  there  would  be  no  end  of  similar  quotations. '' 

But  if  si)eculative  truth  itself  be  only  valuable  as  a  mean  of  in- 
tellectual activity,  those  studies   which   deter- 
rhiiosopiiy  best  en-       jj,i,ie  the  faculties  to  a  more  vigorous  exertion, 

titled  to  the  appclla-  ti  i  i      %  -it 

tion  useful.  "^^'^^^'  "'   e\eiy  lil)eral  sense,  l^e  better   entitled, 

absolutely,  to  the  name  of  useful,*  than  those 
Avhich,  with  a  greater  complement  of  more  certain  facts,  awaken 
them  to  a  less  intense,  ami  consequently  to  a  less  improving  exer- 
cise. On  this  ground  I  Avould  rest  one  of  the  jireominent  utilities 
of  mental  philosophy.  That  it  comprehends  all  the  sublimest  ob- 
jects of  our  theoretical  and  moral  interest;  —  that  every  (natural) 
conclusion  concerning  God,  the  soul,  the  jiresent  worth  and  the 
future  destiny  of  man,  is  exclusively  deduced  from  the  philosoph.y 

1  This  sentence  seems  to  be  made  up  from  p!icat  pnemissas  ail  concliisioneni.    Sicigitur 

two  separate  passages  in  the  Metaphysics,  lib.  patet  (piod  actualitas  scientiic  est  ex  applica- 

viii.  c.  2.     Tlaaai  at  rt'xi'oi   Kal  aiTToivriKat  tione  causx  ad  effi'cfuin  "'     Compare  Qua'>t. 

Kai    ^TTUTTrj/xai   Sufa/xfiS    flalv.      Lib.  n  iii.  c.  ij  ,  "  An  aciiiiisitio  .-ciiMitiif  sit  nobis  jier  doc- 

8:  TeAos  S'   r]    ivipyna,  kou   rovrov  X"P"'  trinam"  —  for  his  view  of  tlie  end  and  means 

T]  Sufa/xts  Kan^di/fTat'   .   .   .   Kol  t^c  dea>-  of  education  — Kd 

pT]TiK^v   (txoiKrji/)    Vfo   dfwpwffiV  oAA'  ov  4  ["  Malebrancbe  disait    avec  une  ingeni- 

bewpovffii'  iVa  ^(ciiprjriKTiV  ^x'^"'"'-  —  ^'■^^-  cu.se  e.\a>:<-ration,  'Si  je  fenais  la  vorit<'  cap- 

-  Tliis  is  p<'rhai>s  tbo  substance  of  Summn,  tivc  dans  ma  main,  j'ouvrirais  la  nuiin  alin  de 

Pars  i.,  Q.  Ixxix.,  art.  ii.  and  iii.  —  En.  poursiiivre  encore  la  verite.'  "  —  Mazure,  Gawri 

.1  These  words  cnntam  the  substance  of  the  <le  PUilnsophie^  torn.  i.  p.  20.] 

doctrine  of  Scotus  rei:arding  science,   given  5  Eine   Dii/'lik,   ^  1  ;    S'-hriften,  edit.   Lach 

in  his  Quirstiones  in  Arisiolelis  Loi:icn}n,  p.  318  mann,  x.  p.  49.  —  En. 

—  Siiprr  Lib.  Po'il  ,Q.i.  '•  .Scire  in  or/H"  says  i'  ["  Die  Wahrheit  ist  in  Gott,  uns  blcib; 
the  subtle  doctor,  "  est  (|uun)  a1i(|Uis  cogno.scit  das  Korscben.""] 

majoicni  ct  minoreni.  et,  simnl  cnin  In  c.  :ip-         '  Compai-e  Disnissiniis.  p.  40. 

•) 


10  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  1 

of  mind,  will  be  at  once  admitted.  But  I  do  not  at 'present  found 
the  importance  on  the  jiaramoniit  dignity  of  the  pursuit.  It  is  as 
the  best  gymnastic  of  the  mind,  —  as  a  mean,  principally,  and 
almost  exclusively,  conducive  to  the  highest  education  of  our 
noblest  powers,  that  I  would  vindicate  to  these  speculations  the 
necessity  which  has  too  frequently  been  denied  them.  By  no 
other  intellectual  application  is  the  mind  thus  reflected  on  itself, 
and  its  faculties  ai-oused  to  such  independent,  vigorous,  unwonted, 
and  continued  energy ;  —  by  none,  therefore,  are  its  best  capac- 
ities so  variously  and  intensely  evolved.  "  By  turning,"  says  Burke, 
"the  soul  inward  on  itself,  its  forces  are  concentred,  and  are  fit- 
ted for  greater  and  stronger  flights  of  science ;  and  in  this  jiursuit, 
whether  we  take  or  whether  we  lose  our  game,  the  chase  is  cer- 
tainly of  service." ' 

These  princijiles  being  established,  I  have  only  now  to  ofifer  a 

few  observations  in  regard  to  their  application, 

Application  of  the       ^j^^t  j^^  j^  j-egard  to  the  mode  in  which  I  conceive 

oregoing  pnncip  es  o       ^^^^^  ^|^.^  class  ought  to  be  conducted.      From 

the  conduct  of  a  class  »  _  _ 

of  piiiiosophy.  what  has  already  been  said,  my  views  on  this 

subject  may  be  easily  anticipated.  Holding  that 
the  paramount  end  of  liberal  study  is  the  development  of  the  stu- 
dent's mind,  and  that  knowledge  is  principally  useful  as  a  mean 
of  determining  the  faculties  to  that  exercise,  through  Avhich  this 
development  is  accomplished,  —  it  follows,  that  I  must  regard  the 
main  duty  of  a  Professor  to  consist  not  simply  in  communicating 
information,  but  in  domg  this  in  such  a  manner,  and  with  such  an 
accompaniment  of  subsidiary  means,  that  the  information  he  con- 
veys may  be  the  occasion  of  awakening  his  pupils  to  a  vigorous  and 
A  aried  exertion  of  their  faculties.  Self-activity  is  the  indispensable 
condition  of  improvement ;  and  education  is  only  education,  —  that 
is,  accom}ilishes  its  ])urpose,  only  by  aftbrding  objects  and  supply- 
ing incitements  to  this  spontaneous  exertion.  Strictly  speaking, 
every  one  must  educate  himself. 

But  as  the  end  of  education  is  thus  something  more  than  the 

mere   communication   of  knowledge,  the  com- 

Lniversities,     their       n^u„ication  of  knowledge  ought  not  to  be  all 

main  end.  i-it  ■  ^        ■,  -,  rt 

that  academical  education  should  attempt.  Be- 
fore printing  Avas  invented.  Universities  were  of  primary  impor- 
tance as  organs  of  publication,  and  as  centres  of  literary  conflu- 
ence: but  since  that  invention,  their  utility  as  media  of  communi- 
cation is  su]>erseded ;   consequently,  to  justify  the  continuance  of 

1  On  the  Sublime  atul  Beautiful,  p.  8.  — Ed 


Lect.  I.  METAPHYSICS.  11 

their  existence  and  privileges,  they  must  accomplish  something  that 
cannot  be  accomplished  by  books.  But  it  is  a  remarkable  circum- 
stance that,  before  the  invention  of  printing,  universities  viewed  the 
activity  of  the  jjupil  as  the  great  mean  of  cultivation,  and  the 
communication  of  knowledge  as  only  of  subordinate  importance; 
Avhereas,  since  that  invention,  universities,  in  general,  have  gradu- 
ally allowed  to  fall  into  disuse  the  powerful  means  which  they 
possess  of  rousing,  the  pupil  to  exertion,  and  have  been  too  often 
content  to  act  as  mere  oral  instruments  of  information,  forgetful, 
it  would  almost  seem,  that  Fust  and  Coster  ever  lived.  It  is 
acknowledged,  indeed,  that  this  is  neither  the  principal  nor  the 
proper  purpose  of  a  university.  Every  writer  on  academical  edu- 
cation from  every  corner  of  Europe  proclaims  the  abuse,  and,  in 
this  and  other  universities,  much  has  been  done  by  individual  ef- 
fort to  correct  it.^ 

But  though  the  common  duty  of  all  academical  instructors  be 

the    cultivation    of  the    student,    through    the 

The  true  end  of  hb-       awakened  excrcise  of  his  faculties,  this  is  more 

«ral  education.  ... 

especially  incumbent  on  those  to  whom  is  in- 
trusted the  department  of  liberal  education  ;  for,  in  this  dejiart- 
ment,  the  pupil  is  trained,  not  to  any  mere  professional  knowledge, 
but  to  the  command  and  employment  of  his  faculties  in  general. 

But,  moreover,  the  same  obligation  is  specially 
The  conditions  of  in-       imposed  upon  a  professor  of  inte'llectual  pliil- 

struction     in    intellec-  ,  ,  ,  ,.  ,  />i.  i-^ 

.    ,   , .,       ,  osophy,  bv  the  peculiar  nature  ot    his  sub  ect, 

and  the  conditions  under  which  alone  it  can 
be  taught.  The  jtluenomena  of  the  external  world  are  so  palpable 
and  so  easily  described,  that  the  experience  of  one  observer  suffices 
to  render  the  facts  he  has  witnessed  intelligible  and  probable  to 
all.  The  phtenomena  of  tlie  internal  world,  on  the  contrary,  are 
not  ('a]iable  of  being  thus  described:  all  that  the  prior  observer  can 
do,  is  to  enable  othei's  to  repeat  liis  experience.  In  the  science  of 
mind,  we  can  neither  uiiderstand  nor  be  convinced  of  anything  at 
secondhand.  Here  testimony  can  impose  no  belief;  and  instruc- 
tion is  only  instruction  as  it  enables  us  to  teach  ourselves.  A 
fact  of  consciousness,  however  accurately  observed,  however  clearly 
described,  and  however  great  may  be  our  confidence  in  the 
observer,  is  for  us  as  zero,  until  we  have  observed  and  recognized  it 
ourselves.  Till  tliai  be  <lone,  we  cannot  realize  its  ])os.sibility,  far 
less  admit  its  truth.  Thus  it  is  that,  in  the  i>hilosopliv  of  mind, 
instruction  can  do  little  more  than  point  out  the  jiosition  in  which 
the   ))upil   ought  to  ]>l:ice  himself,  in   order  to  verify,  by  his  own 

1  Compare  Dixcussiom.  ji.  77-.  —  F,i> 


12  METAPHYSICS. 


..b.Ci. 


experience,  the  flicts  which  his  instructor  proposes  to  him  as  true. 
The  instructor,  therefore,  proclaims,  oi  ^tAoo-o^i'a,  dAAa  <f)LX.o(To<f>€lv  ^ 
he  does  not  profess  to  teach  philosop/ii/,  but  to  philosop/iize. 

It  is  this  condition  imposed  upon  the  student  of  doing  every- 
thing himself,  that   renders   the   study   of  the 
Use  and  importance       jjicntal  scicnccs  the  most  improving  exercise  of 

of  examinations  in  a         .  i  •  i  i  •        i 

class  of  Philosophy.  intellect.      But  everythmg    depends  upon   the 

condition  being  fulfilled  ;  ami,  therefore,  the  pri- 
mary duty  of  a  teacher  of  philosophy  is  to  take  care  that  the 
student  does  actually  perform  for  himself  the  necessary  process^ 
In  the  first  place,  he  must  discover,  by  examination,  whetlier  his- 
instructions  have  been  effective,  —  whether  they  have  enabled  the 
pupil  to  go  through  the  intellectual  operation  ;  and,  if  not,  it  be- 
hooves him  to  supply  what  is  wanting,  —  to  clear  up  what  has  been 
misunderstood.  In  this  view,  examinations  are  of  high  importance 
to  a  professor ;  for  without  such  a  medium  between  the  teacher  and 
the  taught,  he  can  never  adequately  accommodate  the  character  of 
his  instruction  to  the  capacity  of  his  pupils. 

But,  in  the  scond  place,  besides  placing  his  pupil  in  a  condition 

to  perform  the  necessary  process,  the  instructor 

The  intellectual  in-       ought  to  do  what  in  him  lies  to  determine  the 

structor  mus-t  seek  to  -n  •??    ,        -i  r-  -r>    ^    i 

.  ^  ,,       .„     ,.       pupil  s  tcill  to  the  performance.      But   how  is 

influence  the  will    ot  '     _i  ^ 

hispupiu.  this  to  be  effected?     Only  by  rendering  the  ef- 

fort more  pleasurable  than  its  omission.  But 
every  effort  is  at  first  difficult,  —  consequently  irksome.  The  ulti- 
mate benefit  it  promises  is  dim  and  remote,  while  the  pupil  is  often 
of  an  age  at  which  present  pleasure  is  more  persuasive  than  future 
good.  The  pain  of  the  exertion  must,  therefore,  be  overcome  by 
associating  with  it  a  still  higher  pleasure.  This  can  only  be 
cfTccted  by  enlisting  some  passion  in  the  cause  of  improvement. 
We  must  awaken  emulation,  and  allow  its  gratification  only  through 
a  course  of  vigorous  exertion.  Some  rigorists,  I  am  aware,  would 
proscribe,  on  moral  and  religious  grounds,  the  employment  of  the 
passions  in  education  ;  but  such  a  \  lew  is  at  once  fidse  and  dan- 
gerous. The  affectious  are  the  work  of  God  ; 
The  place  of  the  pa«-       ^j^      ^^j.^  ^^t  radicallv  cvil ;    thev  are  given  us 

sions  in  education.  n  ^  i  "  i  '  i         V 

for  useful  purjjoses,  and  are,  therefore,  not  suiht- 
fiuous.  It  is  their  abuse  that  is  alone  reprehensible.  In  truth, 
however,  there  is  no  alternative.  In  youth  passion  is  pref)on- 
derant.  There  is  then  a  redundant  amojant  of  energv  which  must 
be  expended  ;  and  this,  if  it  find  not  an  outlet  through  one  affec- 
tion, is  sure  to  find  it  through  another.  The  aim  of  education  is 
thus  to  employ  for  good  those  impulses  which  would  otherwise  be 


Lect.  I.  METAniYSICS.  13 

turned  to  evil.  The  passions  are  never  neutral ;  they  are  eitlier  the 
best  allies,  or  the  Avorst  opponents,  of  improvement.  "  Man's  na- 
ture," says  Bacon,  "  runs  either  to  herbs  or  weeds ;  therefore  let  him 
seasonably  water  the  one,  and  destroy  the  other."  ^  Without  the 
stimulus  of  emulation,  what  can  education  accomplish  ?  The  love 
of  abstract  knowledge,  and  tlm  habit  of  application,  are  still  un- 
formed, and  if  emulation  intervene  not,  the  course  by  which  these 
are  acquired  is,  from  a  strenuous  and  cheerful  energy,  reduced  to  an 
inanimate  and  dreary  effort ;  and  this,  too,  at  an  age  when  pleas- 
ure is  all-powerful,  and  impulse  predominant  over  reason.  The 
result  is  manifest. 

These  views  have  determined  my  ])lan  of  practical  instruction. 
Regarding  the  communication  of  knowledge  as  a  high,  but  not 
the  highest,  aini  of  academical  instruction,  I  shall  not  content  my- 
self with  the  delivery  of  lectures.  By  all  means  in  my  })Ower  I 
shall  endeavor  to  rouse  you,  gentlemen,  to  the  free  and  vigorous 
exercise  of  your  faculties ;  and  shall  deem  my  task  accomplished, 
not  by  teaching  Logic  and  Philosophy,  but  by  teaching  to  reason 
and  philosophize." 

1  Essay  xxxviii.  —  "  Of  Nature  in  Men."  2  For  Fragment  containing  the  Author's 
—  Works,  ed.  Montagu,  volum*  i.  p.  133. —  views  on  the  subject  of  Academical  UouorSr 
Ed.  see  Ai)i)endix  1.  —  Ed. 


LECTURE    II  ^ 

PHILOSOPHY— ITS    ABSOLUTE    UTILITY. 

(b.)     objective. 

In  the  perverse  estimate  wliicli   is  often  made  of  the  end  ami 
objects  of  education,  it  is   impossible  that  the 

The  value  of  a  study.  _.  n    ^r-     i  -niM  i  t-.  i 

bcience  oi  Jlma, —  1  Inlosophy  Jrroper, — the 
Queen  of  Sciences,  as  it  was  denominated  of  old,  should  not  be 
degraded  in  common  opinion  from  its  preeminence,  as  the  high- 
est branch  of  general  education ;  and,  therefore,  before  attempting 
to  point  out  to  you  what  constitutes  the  value  of  Philosoj^hy,  it 
becomes  necessary  to  clear  the  way  by  establishing  a  correct  no- 
tion of  what  the  value  of  a  study  is. 

Some  things  are  valuable,  finally,  or  for  themselves,  —  these  are 

ends;   other  things  are  valuable,  not  on   their 

£Dds  and  means.  ,  ,,       .  .  . 

own  account,  but  as  conducive  towards  certain 
ulterior  ends,  —  these  are  means.  The  value  of  ends  is  absolute, 
—  the  valua  of  means  is  relative.  Absolute  value  is  properly 
called  a  f/ood,  —  relative  value  is  properly  called  a  iitiUfy.^  Of 
goods,  or  absolute  ends,  thei'c  are  for  man  but  two,  — perfection 
and  happiness.  By  perfection  is  meant  the  full  and  harmonious 
development  of  all  our  faculties,  corporeal  and  mental,  intellectual 
and  moral ;  by  happiness,  the  complement  of  all  the  pleasures  of 
which  we  are  suscej)tible. 

Xow,  I  may  state,  though  I  cannot  at  jiresent  attempt  to  prove, 

and  I  am  afraid  many  will  not  even  understand 

Human    pcrfecfion       ^y^^  statement,  that  human  perfection  and  hu- 

and    happiness    coin-  .  '       •  -,  -,     , 

^j^g  man  Jia])i)iness  coincide,  and  thus  constitute,  in 

reality,  but  a  single  end.  For  as,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  perfection  or  full  development  of  a  power  is  in  propor- 
tion to  its  capacity  of  fn-e,  vigorous,  and  continued  action,  so,  on 

1  It  is  to  be  observed,  that  tlie  Lectures  the  Course.    This  circumstance  accounts  for 

Mere  printed  as  First  and  Second,  were  not  the  repetition   of  tlie   principal   doctrines  of 

uniformly  delivered  by  the  Author  in  that  Lecture  I.  in  the  opening  of  Lecture  II.— Ed 

order.      The    one    or   other  was,    however,  2  [Cf.  Aristotle,  Eth.  iVic,  lib.  i.,  c.  7,  k  l-l 
UBually  given  as  the  introductory  Lecture  of 


Lkct.  il  metaphysics.  15 

the  other,  all  pleasure  is  the  concomitant  of  activity;  its  det^ree 
being  in  proportion  as  that  activity  is  spontaneously  intense,  its 
prolongation  in  proportion  as  that  activj|y  is  spontaneously  con- 
tinued ;  whereas,  pain  arises  either  from  a  faculty  being  restrained 
in  its  spontaneous  tendency  to  action,  or  from  being  urged  to 
a  deo-ree,  or  to  a  continuance,  of  energy  beyond  the  limit  to  which 
it  of  itself  freely  tends. 

To  promote  our  ])erfection  is  thus  to  promote  our  hai)])iness ; 
for  to  cultivate  fully  and  harmoniously  our  various  faculties,  is 
simply  to  enable  them  by  exercise,  to  energize  longer  and  stronger 
without  painful  effort;  that  is,  to  afford  us  a  larger  amount  of 
a  higher  quality  of  enjoyment. 

Perfection   (comprising  hapi)iness)   being  thus  the   one  end  of 

our  existence,  in  so  far  as  man   is  considered 

Criterion  of  the  utii-       ^.^j^^^.  ^^  ^^  ^^^^:^  ^^^^^  himsolf,  or  as  a  mean  to 

ity  of  a  study.  ^    ,  .       >-<  .      .  •  i  i 

the  glory  of  his  Creator ;  it  is  evident  that, 
absolutely  speaking,  that  is,  without  reference  to  special  circum- 
stances and  relations,  studies  and  sciences  must,  in  common  with 
all  other  pursuits,  be  judged  useful  as  they  contribute,  and  only 
as  they  contribute,  to  the  perfection  of  our  humanity,  —  that  is, 
to  our  perfection  simply  as  men.  It  is  manifest  that  in  this  rela- 
tion alone  cnn  anything  distinctively,  emphatically,  and  Avithout 
qualification,  be  denominated  useful ;  for  as  our  jterfection  as  men 
is  the  paramount  and  universal  end  proposed  to  the  sj»ecies,  what- 
ever we  may  style  useful  in  any  other  relation,  ought,  as  con- 
ducive only  to  a  subordinate  and  special  end,  to  be  so  called,  hot 
simply,  but  with  qualifying  limitation.  Propriety  has,  however,  in 
this  case,  been  reversed  in  common  usage.  For  the  term  Useful 
has  been  exclusively  bestowed,  in  ordinary  language,  on  those 
branches  of  instruction  which,  without  reference  to  his  general 
cultivation  as  a  man  or  a  gentleman,  qualify  an  individual  to  earn 
his  livelihood  by  a  special  knowledge  or  dexterity  in  some  hura- 
tive  calling  or  profession ;  and  it  is  easy  to  see  how,  after  the  Avord 
had  been  thus  appropriated  to  what,  following  the  Germans,  we 
may  call  the  Bread  and  Butter  sciences,  those  which  more  ]»rox- 
imately  and  obtrusively  contribute  to  the  intellectual  and  mural 
difuitv  of  man,  slionld,  as  not  having  been  styled  the  useful, 
come,  in  popular  oi)iiU()ii,  to  be  regarded  as  the  useless  branches 
of  instruction. 

As   it   is  proper  to  have  dilfeiviit   nanu's  f<»r 
Gcnenii  and  Partic       jiff,.,.,,,,^  ti,!,,^^,  wc  may  call  the  higher  utilitv, 

ular  utility.  »  .'  ;  ,       .  ,, 

or  that  conducive  to  the  perfection  of  a  man 
viewed  as   an   end   ni  himself,  by  the   name  of  Absolute    or   Geu- 


16  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  1L 

eral ;  the  inferior  utility,  or  that  conducive  to  the  skill  of  an  indi- 
A'idual  viewed  as  an  instrument  for  some  end  out  of  himself,  by 
the  name  of  Special  or  Particular. 

Now,  it  is  evident,  that  in  estimating  the  utility  of  any  branch 
of  education,  we  ought  to  measure  it  both  by  the  one  kind  of 
utility  and  by  the  other ;  but  it  is  also  evident,  that  a  neglect  of 
the  former  standard  will  lead  us  further  wrong  in  appreciating 
the  value  of  any  branch  of  common  or  general  instruction,  than 
a  neglect  of  the   latter. 

It  has  been  the  tendency  of  different  ages,  of  different  coun- 
tries, of  different  ranks  and  conditions  of  society,  to  measure  the 
utility  of  studies  rather  by  one  of  these  standards,  than  by  both. 
Thus  it  was  the  bias  of  antiquity,  when  the  moral  and  intellectual 
cultivation  of  the  citizen  was  viewed  as  the  great  end  of  all  j)o- 
litical  institutions,  to  appreciate  all  knowledge  principally  by  the 
higher  standard ;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  unfortunately  the  bias  of 
our  modern  civilization,  since  the  accumulation,  (and  not  too  the 
distribution),  of  riches  in  a  country,  has  become  the  grand  problem 
of  the  statesman,  to  appreciate  it  rather  by  the  lower. 

In  considering,  therefore,  the  utility  of  philosophy,  we  have,  first, 
to  determine  its  Absolute,  and,  in  the  second  place,  its  Special 
utility — I  say  its  special  utility,  for,  though  not  itself  one  of  the 
professional  studies,  it  is  mediately  more  or  less  conducive  to 
them  all. 

In  the  present  Lecture  I  must,  of  course,  limit  myself  to  one 
branch  of  this  division;  and  even  a  part  of  the  first  or  Absolute 
utility  will  more  than  occupy  our  hour. 

Limiting  myself,  therefore,  to  the  utility  of  philosophy  as  es- 
timated by  the  higher  standard  alone,  it  is 
,  /  **!-,'^.  ^    '  ^  furtlier  to  be  observed,  that,  on  this  standard, 

solute  utility.  '  '       _  ' 

a   science    or   study   is   useful   in   two  different 

ways,  and,  as  these   are    not  identical,  —  this  pursuit  being  more 

useful  in  the  one  way,  that  pursuit   more  useful  in   the  other,  — 

these  in  reality  constitute  two  several  standards  of  utility,  by  which 

each  branch  of  knowledge  ought  to  be  separately  measured. 

The  cultivation,   the    intellectual  perfection,  of  a  man,  may  be 

estimated  by  the   amount  of  two  different  ele- 

Absoiute  utility  of  a       ments ;  it  mav  be   estimated  by  the  mere  sum 

science  of  two  kinds-       ^^  ^^^^^^^^  ^^^j^.^.,^  ^^  ^^^   learned.  Or  it  may  be 

Objective  and  Subjec-  .  •' 

tjve.  estimated  by   the   greater   development   of  his 

faculties,  as  determined  by  their  greater  ex- 
ercise in  the  jmrsuit  and  contemplation  of  truth.  For,  though 
this    may  appear  a   paradox,  these   elements  are  not  merely  not 


X.KCT.  n.  METAPHYSICS.  17 

convertible,  but  are,  in  fact,  very  loosely  connected  with  each 
other ;  and  as  an  individual  may  possess  an  ample  iiiMgazine  of 
knowledge,  and  still  be  little  better  than  an  intellectual  barbarian, 
60  the  utility  of  one  science  may  be  2>i'incipally  seen  in  affording 
a  fjreater  number  of  higher  and  more  indisputable  truths,  —  the 
utility  of  another  in  determining  the  faculties  to  a  higher  energy, 
and  consequently  to  a  higlier  cultivation.  The  former  of  these 
utilities  we  may  call  the  Objective,  as  it  regards  the  object- 
matter  about  which  our  cognitive  faculties  are  occupied ;  the  other 
Subjective,  inasmuch  as  it  regards  our  cognitive  faculties  them- 
selves as  the  subject  in  Avhich  knowledge  is  inherent. 

I  shall  not  at  present  enter  on  the  discussion  which  of  these 
utilities  is  the  higher.  In  the  opening  lecture  of  last  year,  I 
endeavored  to  show  that  all  knowledge  is  only  for  the  sake  of 
energy,  and  that  even  merely  speculative  truth  is  valuable  only  as 

it  determines  a  greater  quantity  of  higher  power 
11  ohop  i>  .lb  .^^^^  activity.     In   that  lecture,    I  also  endeav- 

lective  utility.  •'  '  _        _ 

ored  to  sliow  that,  on  the  standard  of  subjective 
utility,  philoso]>hy  is  of  all  our  studies  the  most  useful;  inasmuch 
as  more  than  any  other  it  exercises,  and  consequently  develoi>s 
to  a  higher  degree,  and  in  a  more  varied  manner,  our  noblest 
fiiculties.  At  present,  on  the  contrary,  I  shall  confine  myself  to 
certain  views  of  the  importance  of  philosoi>hy,  estimated  l)y  the 
standard  of  its  Objective  utility.  The  discussion,  I  am  aware,  will 
be  found  somewhat  disproportioned  to  the  age  and  average  ca- 
pacity of  my  hearers ;  but,  on  this  occasion,  and  before  this  audi- 
ence, I  ho]te  to  be  excused  if  I  venture  for  once  on  matters  which, 
to  be  adequately  understood,  require  development  and  illustra- 
tion from  the  matured  intelligence  of  those  to  whom  they  are 
presented. 

Considered   in  itself,  a  knowledge  of  the  liuniMu  mind,  whether 

we  regard  its  speculative  or  its  practical  impor- 

The  human  mi.ul  tl.e         ^^^^^,^^    j^    COufcSSCdly    of  all    StudicS    the    highest 
noblest  object  of  spec-  .  . 

^jn^jjj^  and  the  most  interestmg.    "On  carl li,     says  an 

ancient  phil<)soj>her,  "•there  is  UDtliing  great 
but  man  ;  in  man,  there  is  nothing  great  but  mind."'  No  other 
study  fills  and  satisfies  the  soul  like  the  study  of  itself.  Xo  otlier 
science  presents  an  object  to  be  comj)ared  in  dignity,  in  al)Solute 
or  in  relative  value,  to  that  which  human  consciousness  furnishes 
to  its  own  contemplation.     Wliat   is  of  all  things  the  best,  asked 


1  [rhuvorinns,   quoted    by  Joannes   Ticiis      Bnsil.— Ed]     For  notic*  of  riiavorinus,  dee 
MiraiKluliinu^, /n    A.^tmlogiam.  Jib.  iii.  p.  351,       Vossius,   De   Hist.  Grrrc.,    lib   ii.  c.  10. — Ed 


18  METAPHYSICS.  1^      T.   IL 

Chilon  of  the  Oracle.  "To  know  thyself,"  was  the  response.  Thi^i 
is,  in  fact,  the  only  science  in  which  all  ai-e  always  interested;  for, 
wliile  each  individual  may  iiave  his  favorite  occupation,  it  still 
remains  true  of  the  species,  that 

"  The  proper  study  of  mankind  is  man."  i 

"Now  for  my  life,"  says  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  "it  is  a  miracle  of 
thirty  years,  wliich   to  relate  Avere   not  a  his- 

Sir  Thomas  Browne         ^  ^^^^.    ^      -^^     ^f  poetrv,    and    WOuld   SOUn.l 

quoted.  "  1■^  r-  i", 

to  common  ears  like  a  table. 
"For  the  world,  I  count  it  not  an  inn,  but  an  hospital;  and  a 
place  not  to  live,  but  to  die  in.  The  world  that  I  regard  is  myself; 
it  is  the  microcosm  of  my  own  frame  that  I  cast  mine  eye  on ;  for 
the  other,  I  use  it  but  like  my  globe,  and  tui-n  it  round  sometimes, 
for  my  recreation.  Men  that  look  upon  my  outside,  perusing  only 
my  condition  and  fortunes,  do  err  in  my  altitude ;  for  I  am  above 
Atlas  his  slioulders.  The  earth  is  a  point  not  only  in  respect  of  the 
heavens  above  us,  but  of  that  heav^enly  and  celestial  part  within 
us.  That  mass  of  flesh  that  circumscribes  me,  limits  not  my  mind. 
That  surface  that  tells  the  heavens  it  hath  an  end,  cannot  per- 
suade me  I  have  any.  I  take  my  circle  to  be  above  three  hundred 
and  sixty.  Though  the  niimber  of  the  ark  do  measure  my  bo<l}', 
it  comprehendeth  not  my  mind.  Whilst  I  study  to  find  how  I 
am  a  microcosm,  or  little  world,  I  find  myself  something  more  than 
the  great.  There  is  surely  a  piece  of  divinity  in  us ;  something 
that  Avas  before  the  elements,  and  owes  no  homage  unto  the  sun. 
Nature  tells  me,  I  am  the  image  of  God,  as  well  as  Scripture.  He 
that  understands  not  thus  much  hath  not  his  introduction  or  first 
lesson,  and  is  yet  to  begin  the  alphabet  of  man."  -' 

But,  though  mind,  considered  in  itself,  be  the  noblest  object  of 

speculation  which  the  created  universe  presents 

Relation  of  Psychol-  .       ^i  •      -^  j?  -^    •  i  ^    • 

^,    ,  to  the  curiosity  ot    man,  it  is  under  a  certain 

ogy  to  Theology. 

relation  that  I  would  now  attempt  to  illustrate 
its  utility ;  for  mind  rises  to  its  highest  dignity  when  viewed  as 
the  object  through  which,  and  through  which  alone,  our  unassisted 
reason  can  ascend  to  the  knoAvledge  of  a  God.  The  Deity  is  not 
an  object  of  immediate  contemjilation ;  as  existing  and  in  him- 
self, he  is  beyond  our  reach  ;  we  can  know  him  only  mediately 
through  his  works,  and  are  only  Avarranted  in   assuming  his  ex- 


1  Pope,  Essay  on  Man,  ii  2.  —  Ed. 

•»  Browne's  Jie/ig'/o  .lie/""/,  jiart  ii   5  11      Disnissions,  p.  S,1      —Ed 


Lpx-t.  il  metaphysics.  19 

istence  as  a  certain  kind  of  cause  necessary  to  account  for  a  cer- 
tain state  of  tilings,  of  whose  reality  our  facul- 
Existence  of  Deity       ^j^g  ^^.^  supposed  to  iufomi  US.     The  affirmation 

an    inreic'iice    from    a  />       /-i     i   i     •  .         . 

special  class  of  effects.       ^f  a  God  being  thus  a  regressive  intereiice,  from 

the  existence  of  a  special  class  of  eftects  to  tiie 
existence  of  a  special  character  of  cause,  it  is  evident,  that  the 
whole  argument  liinges  on  the  fact,  —  Does  a  state  of  things  really 
exist  such  as  is  only  possible  through  the  agency  of  a  Divine  Cause? 
For  if  it  can  be  sliown  that  such  a  state  of  things  does  net  really 
exist,  then,  our  inference  to  the  kind  of  cause  requisite  to  account 
for  it,  is  necessarilv  null. 

This  being  understood,  I    now   ]iroceed  to  show  you   that    the 

class  of  ])ha'nomena  which  requires  that  kind  of 

These  afforded   ex-       ^^^^^^    ^^,^    denominate   a  Deity,   is   exclusively 

clusively  by  the  pha;-  ...  n        • 

nomeua  of  mind.  given    111    the  pluBuomena  of  mind,  —  that  the 

phenomena  of  matter,  taken  by  themselves  (you 
will  observe  the  qu:)liiication,  taken  by  themselves),  so  fir  from 
warranting  any  inference  to  the  existence  of  a  Go<l,  would,  on  the 
contrary,  ground  even  an  argument  to  his  negation,  —  that  the  study 
of  the  external  world  taken  with,  and  in  subordination  to,  that  of 
the  internal,  not  only  loses  its  atheistic  tendency,  but,  under  such 
subservience,  may  be  rendered  conducive  to  the  great  conclusion, 
from  which,  if  left  to  itself,  it  would  dissuade  us. 

We  must  first  of  all  then  consider  what  kind  of  cause  it  is 
Avhicli  constitutes  a  Deity,  :in<l  what  kind  of  effects  thev  are 
which   allow  us  to  infer  that  a  Deity  must  be. 

Tlie  notion  of  a  (rod  is  not  contained  in  the  notion  of  a  mere 
First  Cause;  for  in  tlie  admission  of  a  first  cause, 

Tlie  notion  of  a  God  \  ^i     •   ^  i    rpi     •   ,  .  -v-   -^i  ■       i  • 

,   .  Atheist  and   1  heist  are  at  one.     Neither  is  this 

<-vhat 

notion  completed  by  adding  to  a  first  cause  the 
attribute  of  Omnipotence,  for  the  atheist  who  holds  matter  or 
necessity  to  be  the  original  principle  of  .all  that  i.s,  does  not  cun- 
vert  his  blind  force  into  a  (iod,  bv  inerelv  .affirming  it  to  be  .all- 
]>owerful.  It  is  not  until  the  two  great  attributes  of  Intelligence 
and  Virtue  (and  be  it  observed  that  vii-tue  involves  Liberty)  — 
I  s.ay,  it  is  not  until  the  two  .attriI)Mtes  of  intelligence  and  virtue 
or  holines.s,  are  brought  in,  th.at  (he  belief  in  a  primary  and  omnipo- 
tent cause  becomes  the  belief  in  a  veritable  Divinity.  But  these 
latter  attributes  are  not  more  essential  to  the  divine  nature  than 
are  the  former.  For  as  original  and  infinite  power  does  not  of 
itself  constitute  a  Go<l,  neither  is  a  (io<l  constituti'd  by  intelligence 
and  virtue,  unless  intelligence  and  goodness  be  themselves  con- 
joined  with   this   original   and   infinite   power.      For  even    a  crea- 


'20  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  II 

tor,  intellif;ent,  and  good,  and  powerful,  woukl  be  no  God,  were 
he  dependent  for  liis  intelligence  and  goodness  and  power  on  any 
higher  principle.  On  this  supposition,  the  jjerfections  of  the  creator 
iire  viewed  as  limited  and  derived.  He  is  himself,  therefore,  only 
a  dependency, —  only  a  creature;  and  if  a  God  there  be,  lie  must 
be  sought  for  in  that  higher  principle,  from  which  this  subordinate 
principle  derives  its  attributes.  Now  is  this  highest  princ-iple  (^ex 
Jiypothesi  all-powerful),  also  intelligent  and  moral,  then  it  is  itself 
alone  the  veritable  Deity;  on  the  other  hand  is  it,  though  the 
author  of  intelligence  and  goodness  in  another,  itself  unintelligent, 
—  then  is  a  blind  Fate  constituted  the  first  and  universal  cause, 
and  atheism  is  asserted. 

The  peculiar  attributes  Avhich  distinguish  a  Deity  from  the 
original  omnipotence  or  blind  fate  of  the  atheist. 

Conditions   of  the       being  thus  those  of  intelligence  and  holiness  of 

inoof  of  the  existence  .,,  ,      .  .  •        ^  r>  - 1     •  ^     •  i 

'       ,.   ,  AVill,  —  and  the  assertion  ot  theism  beins:  only 

of  a  God-  '  o  J 

the  assertion  that  the  universe  is  created  by 
intelligence,  and  governed  not  only  by  physical  but  by  moral  laws, 
we  have  next  to  consider  how  we  are  warranted  in  these  two 
affirmations,  1°,  That  intelligence  stands  first  in  the  absolute  order 
of  existence,  —  in  other  words,  that  final  preceded  efficient  causes; 
and,  2°,  That  the  vmiverse  is  governed  by  moral  laws. 

The  proof  of  these  two  propositions  is  the  proof  of  a  God; 
and  it  establishes  its  foundation  exclusively  on 

1.  Is  intelligence  the  phaeiiomena  of  mind.  I  shall  endeavor, 
first  in  the  order  of      o-entlemeu,  to  show  vou  this,  in  regard  to  both 

existence?     2     Is  the         *'  .   ,  ^         -i     n  '  •         • 

universe  "overned  by  these  propositions  ;  but,  before  considering  how 
moral  law  ?  far  the  phaenomeiia  of  mind  and  of  matter  do 

and  do  not  allow  us  to  infer  the  one  position  or 
the  other,  I  must  solicit  your  attention  to  the  characteristic  con- 
trasts which  these  two  classes  of  phcenomena  in  themselves  exhibit. 
In  the  compass  of  our  experience,  we  distinguish  two  series  of 
facts, —  the   facts   of  the   external    or   material 
Contrasts  of  the  phie-       ^vorld,  and  the  facts  of  the  internal   world   or 

nomena  of  iniuter  and  ' 

j^jjjj  world  ot  intelligence,     ihese  concomitant  series 

of  phfenomena  are  not  like  streams  Avhich  merely 
run  parallel  to  each  other;  they  do  not,  like  the  Alplieus  and 
Arethusa,  flow  on  side  by  side  without  a  commingling  of  their 
waters.  They  cross,  they  combine,  they  are  interlaced ;  but  not- 
withstanding their  intimate  connection,^  their  mutual  action  and 
reaction,  we  are  able  to  discriminate  them  without  difficulty,  be- 
cause they  are  marked  out  by  characteristic  differences. 

The  phaenomena  of  the  material  world  are  subjected  to  immu- 


Lect.  n.  METAPHYSICS.  21 

table  laws,  are  produced  and  reproduced  in  the  same  invariable 
succession,  and  manifest  only  the  blind  force  of  a  mechanical 
necessity. 

The  pha^nomena  of  man,  are,  in  part,  subjected  to  the  laws  of 
the  external  universe.  As  dependent  ui)on  a  bodily  organization, 
as  actuated  by  sensual  propensities  and  animal  wants,  he  belongs 
to  matter,  and,  in  this  respect,  he  is  the  slave  of  necessity.  But 
what  man  holds  of  matter  does  not  make  up  his  personality. 
They  are  his,  not  he;  man  is  not  an  organism,  —  he  is  an  intelli- 
gence served  by  organs.'  For  in  man  there  are  tendencies, — 
there  is  a  law, —  which  continually  urge  him  to  prove  that  he  is 
more  powerful  than  the  nature  by  which  he  is  surrounded  and 
penetrated.  He  is  conscious  to  himself  of  faculties  not  comprised 
in  the  chain  of  physical  necessity,  his  intelligence  reveals  ]>rescrip- 
tive  principles  of  action,  absolute  and  universal,  in  the  Law  of 
Duty,  and  a  liberty  capable  of  carrying  that  law  into  effect,  in 
opposition  to  the  solicitations,  the  impulsions  of  his  matei-ial  na- 
ture. From  the  coexistence  of  these  opposing  forces  in  man  there 
results  a  ceaseless  struggle  between  phvsical  necessitv  and  moral 
liberty ;  in  the  language  of  Revelation,  between  the  Flesh  and  the 
Spirit;  and  this  struggle  constitutes  at  once  the  distinctive  char- 
acter of  humanity,  and  the  essential  condition  of  human  develop- 
ment and  virtue. 

In  the  facts  of  intelligence,  we  thus  become  aware  of  an  order  of 
existence  diametrically  in  contrast  to  that  displayed  to  us  in  the 
facts  of  the  material  universe.  There  is  made  known  to  us  an 
order  of  things,  in  which  intelligence,  by  recognizing  the  luicon- 
ditional  law  of  duty  and  an  absolute  obligation  to  fulfil  it,  recog- 
nizes its  own  possession  of  a  liberty  incompatible  with  a  depend- 
ence upon  fate,  and  of  a  power  capable  of  resisting  and  conquer 
inff  the  counteraction  of  our  animal  nature. 

Now,  it  is  oidy  as  man   is  a  free   intelligence,  a  moral    i>. iwcr, 

that  he  is  created  aftef  the  image  of  God,  and  it 

Consciousness  of  free-       jj^  oulv  as  a  spark  of  diviuitv  glows  as  the  life 

dom.und  of  a  law  of       ^^  ^^^;.  ,j^^  j^^  ^^     ^j^.^^  ^^.^  ^^^^  ratiouallv  believe 

duty,  the  conditions  of         .  th-  ^    r^  i^ri/^ 

Theology  "^  '^"  Intelligent  Creator  and  3loral  (governor 

of  the  universe.  For,  let  us  sujjpose,  tliat  in 
mail  intelligence  is  the  pro<luct  of  organization,  that  our  conscious- 
ness of  moral  lil)erty  is  itself  only  an  illusion  ;  in  short,  tliat  acts 
of  volition  are  results  of  the  same  iron  necessity  which  determines 


1  f"  Mens  ciijiisfiue.  isest  (Hilsriiie:  noncn  fi)»-       Snmnium  S>iplnnff.  p.  8  —  nfTer   Platn.]     Cf 
ura,  qua;  digitodemoiistiari  potest. '  —  Cicero,       I'lato.^c.  iVim.  p. 1-30,  nnd  in/ra,p.  114,— Ei> 


22  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  U 

the  jdiaenomena  of  matter,  —  on  this  supposition,  I  say,  the  founda- 
tions of  all  religion,  natural  and  revealed,  are  suhveited.^ 

The  truth  of  this  will  be  best  seen  by  applying  the  supposition 
of  the  two  positions  of  theism  previously  stated  —  viz.,  that  the 
notion  of  God  necessarily  supposes,  1",  That  in  the  absolute  order 
of  existence  intelligence  should  be  first,  tliat  is,  not  itself  the  pro- 
duct of  an  unintelligent  antecedent;  and,  2",  That  the  universe 
sliould   be  governed   not  only   by   physical   but  by  moral  laws. 

Now,  in  regard  to  the  former,  how  can  Ave  attempt  to  prove 
that  the  universe  is  the  creation  of  a  free  original 

First  condition  of  the         •    .    n-  •      j.    4^1  *  v  c  ii 

,  .     ,  intelligence,  against  the  counter-position  oi  the 

proof  of  a  Deity  ,drawu  ;ri  '     jt^  ^  1 

from  Psychology.  An-  atheist,  that  liberty  is  an  illusion,  and  intelli- 
aiogy  between  our  ex-  geiicc,  or  the  adaptation  of  means  to  ends,  only 
perience and  the abso-       J|^^  product  of  a  blind  fate?     As  we  kuow  no- 

lute  order  of  existence.  '■  i  r-        ■  ■      •       -ic 

thing  of  the  absolute  order  of  existence  in  itself, 
we  can  only  attempt  to  infer  its  cliaracter  from  that  of  the  i)artic- 
ular  order  within  the  s]ihere  of  oiu*  experience,  and  as  we  can 
affirm  naught  of  intelligence  and  its  conditions,  except  what  we 
may  discover  from  the  observation  of  our  own  mind.'^,  it  is  evident 
that  we  can  only  analogically  carry  out  into  the  order  of  the  uni- 
verse the  relation  in  whicli  we  find  intelligence  to  stand  in  the 
order  of  the  human  constitution.  If  in  man  intelligence  be  a 
free  power, — in  so  far  as  its  liberty  extends,  intelligence  must  be 
independent  of  necessity  and  matter ;  and  a  power  independent  of 
matter  necessarily  implies  the  existence  of  an  immaterial  subject, 
—  that  is,  a  spirit.  If,  then,  the  original  independence  of  intelli- 
gence on  matter  in  the  human  constitution,  in  other  words,  if 
the  spirituality  of  mind  in  man,  be  sujiposed  a  datum  of  observa- 
tion, in  this  datum  is  also  given  both  the  condition  and  the  })roof 
of  a  God.     For  we  have  only  to  infer,  what  analogy  entitles  us  to 

do,   that   intelligence   holds   the   same   relative 

Psvcholofrical  Mate-  .       ^,  .  i-i-aiit- 

.  ,.■      .    .  supremacy  in  the  universe  which  it  holds  in  us, 

rialism :  its  issue.  ^  •'  _  _   _  _         _ 

and  the  first  positive  condition  of  a  Deity  is 
established,  in  the  establishment  of  the  absolute  ])riority  of  a  free 
creative  intelligence.  On  the  other  hand,  let  us  suppose  the  result 
of  our  study  of  man  to  be,  that  intelligence  is  only  a  product  of 
matter,  only  a  reflex  of  organization,  such  a  doctrine  would  not 
only  aftbrd  no  basis  on  which  to  rest  any  argument  for  a  God, 
l)Ut,  on  the  contrary,  would  j>ositively  warrant  the  atheist  in  deny- 
ing his  existence.  For  if,  as  the  materialist  maintains,  the  only 
intelligence  of  which  Ave  have  any  ex])erience  be  a  consequent 
of  matter,  —  on  this   hypothesis,   he  not  only  cannot   assume  this 

1  See  Discussions,  p.  623.  —  Ed.  •♦ 


Lect.  II.  METAPHYSICS,  23 

order  to  be  revereed  in  the  relations  of  an  intelligence  beyond  his 
observation,  but,  if  he  argue  logically,  he  must  positively  conclude, 
that,  as  in  man,  so  in  tlie  universe,  the  ])luenomena  of  intelligence 
or  design  are  only  in  their  last  analysis  the  products  of  a  brute 
necessity.  Psychological  materialism,  if  carried  out  iully  and  fiirly 
to  its  conclusions,  thus  inevitably  results  in  theological  atheism; 
as  it  has  been  well  expressed  by  Dr.  Henry  More,  uhUks  i/i  ii/irro- 
rosino  spiritKs,  indlus  in  niacrocosmo  Deus}  I  do  not,  of  course, 
mean  to  assert  that  all  materialists  deny,  or  actually  disbelieve,  a 
God.  For,  in  very  many  cases,  this  would  be  at  once  an  unmer- 
ited compliment  to  their  reasoning,  and  an  unmerited  reproach 
to  their  faith. 

Such   is  the  manifest  dejiendence  of  our  theology  on  our  psy- 
chology in  reference  to  the  first  condition  of  a 
Second  condition  of       Deity,  —  tlic  absolute  priority  of  a  free  intclli- 

t!ic  proof  of  a   Deity,  '  t>    ^    ^  i  •      •  i 

^       T,     ,  ",        Gfence.     fjut  tins  is  i)erhaps  even  more  conspic- 

(.rawu  from  Psychol-         °  _  _  '  '  i     _ 

(,_,y.  uous   in    relation  to  the    second,  that  the  uni- 

verse is  governed  not  merely  by  physical  but 
ity  moral  laws,  for  God  is  only  God  inasmuch  as  he  is  the  Moral 
<  rovernor  of  a  Moral  World. 

Our  interest  also  in  its  establishment  is  incomjmrably  greater,  for 
while  a  proof  that  the  universe  is  the  Avork  of  an  omnipotent  intel- 
ligence, gratifies  only  our  speculative  curiosity, —  a  proof  that  there 
is  a  holy-  leijislator  by  whom  goodness  and  felicity  will  be  ullimatelv 
l)rouiiht  into  accordance,  is  necessary  to  satisfy  both  our  intel- 
left  and  our  heart.  A  God  is,  indeed,  to  us  only  of  practical 
interest,  inasmuch  as  he  is  the  condition  of  our  immortality. 

Now,  it  is  self-evident,  in  the  first  ])lare,  that,  if  there  be  no 
mor;d  world,  there  can  l)e  no  moral  governor  of  such  a  worM  ; 
an<l,  in  the  second,  timt  we  have,  nml  c.-iu  have,  no  gi-ound  on 
which  to  believe  in  the  reality  of  a  moral  world,' except  in  so  far 
as  we  ourselves  are  moral  agents.  This  being  undeniable,  it  is 
further  evident,  that,  should  we  ever  be  convinced  that  we  are 
not  moral  agents,  we  should  likewise  be  convinced  tlnit  there 
exists  no  moral  order  in  the  universe,  and  no  su])renie  intelligence 
by  w  iiich  Uiat  moral  order  is  established,  sustained,  and  regu- 
lated. 

Theology  is  thus  :i<>;uu  wliollv  (Icnendent  on  Psvcholoccy ;  for, 
witli  the  ju'oof  of  the  moral  nature  of  man,  stands  oi-  falls  the 
proof  of  the  existence  of  a   Dcitv. 

1  a.  Anlidolus  wtversus  Alhfismum,  lib.  iii.       1079);   and   the  Author's   Discutsions,  p.  788 
O.  16,  (Opera  Omnia,  vol.  ii.  p.  143,  Londini,       — Eu 


24  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  IL 

But  in  Avhnt  does  the  cliaracter  of  man  as  a  moral  agent  consist? 
Man   is   a  moral  agent  only  as  he  is  account- 
Wherein  the  moral       jj],|g  f^^.  jjjg  actions, —  in  other  Avords,  as  he  is 

agency    of   man    cou-  -i  •      ^       r-  ■  ii  ixi-i* 

..°j^  the  object  of  praise  or  blame;  ana  this   lie  is^ 

only  inasmuch  as  he  has  prescribed  to  him  a 
rule  of  duty,  and  as  he  is  able  to  act,  or  not  to  act,  in  conform- 
ity with  its  precepts.  The  possibility  of  morality  thus  depends 
on  the  possibility  of  liberty ;  for  if  man  be  not  a  free  agent,  he 
is  not  the  author  of  his  actions,  and  has,  therefore,  no  responsi- 
bility,  —  no  moral  personality  at  all. 

Now  the  study  of  Philosophy,   or   mental   science,  operates   iu 

three  ways  to  establish  that  assurance  of  human 

riiiiosophy  operates       liberty,  wliich  is  necessary  for  a  rational  belief 

in  tlitce  ways.in  estab-  •  i  .  •  i     -i  j 

■'  „       in  our    own    moral  nature,    in    a  moral    worlds 

lisliing    assurance   of  , 

imman  liberty.  '"n^*^  ^^  3.   moral  ruler  of  that   world.     In  the 

first  place,  an  attentive  consideration  of  the 
ph£enomena  of  mind  is  requisite  in  order  to  a  luminous  and  dis- 
tinct apprehension  of  liberty  as  a  feet  or  datum  of  intelligence. 
For  though,  without  philosophy,  a  natural  conviction  of  free  agency 
lives  and  works  in  the  recesses  of  eveiy  human'  mind^  it  requires  a 
process  of  philosophical  thought  to  bring  this  conviction  to  clear 
consciousness  and  scientific  certainty.  In  the  second  place,  a  jjro- 
found  philosophy  is  necessary  to  obviate  the  ditficulti<3S  which 
meet  us  when  we  attempt  to  exjjlain  the  possibility  of  -this  fact, 
and  to  prove  that  the  datum  of  liberty  is  not  a  mere  illusion. 
For  though  an  unconquerable  feeling  compels  us  to  recognize 
ourselves  as  accountable,  and  therefore  free,  agents,  still,  when 
we  attempt  to  realize  in  thought  how  the  fact  of  our  liberty  can 
be,  we  soon  find  that  this  altogether  transcends  our  understand- 
ing, and  that  every  effort  to  bring  the  fact  of  liberty  witliin  tlie 
compass  of  our  conceptions,  onl}^  results  in  the  substitution  in  its 
place  of  some  more  or  less  disguised  form  of  necessity.  For,  —  if 
I  may  be  allowed  to  use  expressions  which  many  of  you  can- 
not be  supposed  at  present  to  understand,  —  Ave  are  only  able  to 
conceive  a  thing,  inasmuch  as  we  conceive  it  under  conditions ; 
while  the  possibility  of  a  free  act  supposes  it  to  be  an  act  whicli 
is  not  conditioned  or  determined.  The  tendency  of  a  superficial 
philosophy  is,  therefore,  to  deny  the  fact  of  liberty,  on  the  prin- 
ciple that  what  cannot  be  conceived  is  impossible.  A  deeper  and 
more  comprehensive  study  of  the  facts  of  mind  overturns  this 
conclusion,  and  disproves  its  found.'i^on.  It  shoAvs  that, — so  far 
from  the  principle  being  true,  that  Avhat  is  inconceivable  is  im- 
possible, —  on  the  contrary,  all  that  is  conceivable  is  a  mean  be- 


Lect.  n.  METAPHYSICS.  25 

tween  two  contradictory  extremes,  both  of  which  are  inconceiva- 
ble, but  of  which,  as  mutually  re])ugnant,  one  or  the  other  must 
be  true.  Thus  philosophy,  in  demonstrating  that  the  limits  of 
thought  are  not  to  be  assumed  as  the  limits  of  possibility,  while 
it  admits  the  weakness  of  our  discursive  intellect,  reestablishes 
the  authority  of  consciousness,  and  vindicates  the  veracity  of 
our  primitive  convictions.  It  proves  to  us,  from  the  very  laws 
of  mind,  that  while  we  can  never  understand  lu.nf!  an}'  original 
datum  of  intelligence  is  possible,  we  liave  no  reason  from  this 
inability  to  doubt  that  it  is  true.  A  learned  ignorance  is  thus, 
the  end  of  philosophy,  as  it  is  the  beginning  of  theology.* 

In  the  third  place,  the  study  of  mind  is  necessary  to  counter- 
balance and  correct  the  influence  of  the  study  of  matter;  and 
this  utility  of  Metaphysics  rises  in  proportion  to  the  i)rogress 
of  the  natural  sciences,  and  to  the  greater  attention  which  they 
engross. 

An  exclusive  devotion  to  physical  pursuits,  exerts  an  evil  inflti 
ence  in  two  ways.     In  the  first  place,  it  diverts 
Twofold  evils  of  ex-       ^^^^^^^    .^^    ^^^^j^^   ^^  ^^^^   phteuomeua   of  moral 

elusive  physical  study.  .  ' 

liberty,  which  are  revealed  to  us  in  the  recesses 
of  the  human  mind  alone;  and  it  dis(|ualifies  from  appreciating 
the  iini)ort  of  these  phenomena,  even  if  presented,  by  leaving  un- 
cultivated the  finer  power  of  psychological  reflection,  in  the  exclu- 
sive exercise  of  the  faculties  employed  in  tlie  easier  and  more 
amusing  observation  of  the  external  Avorld.  In  the  second  place,, 
by  exhibiting  merely  the  ])luenomena  of  matter  and  extension, 
it  habituates  us  only  to  the  contemplation  of  an  order  in  whic-h 
everything  is  determined  by  the  laws  of  a  blind  or  mechanical 
necessity.  Now,  what  is  the  inevitable  tendency  of  this  one-sided 
and  exclusive  study?  That  the  student  becomes  a  materialist,  if 
he  speculate  at  all.  For,  in  tlie  first  j)lace,  lie  is  fainili:ir  with 
the  obtrusive  facts  of  necessity,  and  is  unaccustomed  to  develop 
into  consciousness  tlie  more  recondite  facts  of  li))eity  ;  lie  is,  there- 
fore, disposed  to  disbelieve  in  the  existence  of  j)haMiomena  whose 
reality  he  may  deny,  and  whose  possibility  he  cannot  understand.. 
At  the  same  tinu',  the  lov^e  of  unity,  and  tlu'  jiliilosopliical  ]iresum])- 

tion   against  tlie  multiplication  of  essences,  de- 
rhysicai  study  in  its       tofinine  him  to  reject  tlie  assumption  of  a  second, 

iiifmicy   not  iiiutiTlal-  i  i        •       i  i 

j^j,,„  and  that  :m  hypothetical,  sul)st;ince,  —  ignorant 

as  he  is  of  the  reasons  by  whicli  that  assuni].- 
tion  is   legitimated.      In  the  *»iif;iiu'y  of  science,  this  tendency  ot 

1  See  Discussions,  ji    fM  —  K.D 


26  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  II. 

pli}sieal  study  was  not  experienced.  Wlieu  men  first  turned  their 
attention  on  the  2)iiaenomena  of  nature,  every  event  was  viewed 
as  a  miracle,  for  every  effect  was  considered  as  the  operation  of 
an  intelligence.  God  M'as  not  exiled  from  the  universe  of  mat- 
ter; on  tiie  contrary,  he  was  multiplied  in  proportion  to  its  phae- 
nomena.  As  science  advanced;  the  deities  were  gradually  driven 
out ;  and  long  after  the  sublunary  world  had  been  disenchanted, 
they  Avere  left  for  a  season  in  possession  of  the  starry  heavens. 
The  movement  of  the  celestial  bodies,  in  which  Kepler  still  saw 
the  agency  of  a  free  intelligence,  was  at  length  by  Xewton  re- 
solved into  a  few  mathsmatical  principles ;  and  at  last  even  the 
irregulai-ities  which  Newton  was  compelled  to  leave  for  the  mirac- 
ulous correction  of  the  Deity,  have  been  proved  to  require  no 
sujicrnatural  interposition;  for  La  Place  has  shown  that  ail  con- 
tingencies, past  and  future,  in  the  heavens,  find  their  explanation 
in  the  one  fundamental  law  of  gravitation. 

J>Ht  the  very  contemplation  of  an  order  and  adaptation  so  aston- 
isliing,  joined  to  the  knowledge  that  this  order  and  adaptation  are 
the  necessary  results  of  a  brute  mechanism,  —  when  acting  upon 
minds  which  have  not  looked  into  themselves  tor  the  light  of 
wlii('h  the  world  without  can  only  aftbrd  them  the  reflection,  —  flir 
from  elevating  them  more  than  any  other  aspect  of  external  crea- 
tion to  that  inscrutal)le  Being  who  reigns  beyond  and  above  the 
universe  of  nature,  tends,  on  the  contrary,  to  imjiress  on  them, 
W'ith  i)eculiar  force,  the  conviction,  that  as  the  mechanism  of 
nature  can  explain  so  much,  the  mechanism  of  nature  can  ex- 
plain all. 

"Wonder,''  says   Aristotle,  "is  the  first  cause  of  philosophy:"^ 

but   in  the  discovery  that  all   existence  is  but 

li  :iii  existence  be       mechaiiis-m,  the  consummation  of  science  would 

but  mecliauism,  pliiio-         ,  .         .  .  „  ,  .   , 

, .    ,  .  ,      .  be  an  extinction  of  the  very  interest  from  which 

sopliicul    interest    ex-  •' 

tinguished.  it  Originally  sju'ang.     "Even  the  gorgeous  ma- 

jesty of  the  heavens,"  says  a  religious  philoso- 
pher, "the  olject  <.)f  a  kneeling  adoration  to  ;ui  infant  world,  sub- 
dues no  more  the  mind  of  him  Avho  comprehends  the  one  mechan- 
ical law  by  which  the  j)lanetary  systems  move,  maintain  their 
motion,  and  even  originallv  form  themselves.  lie  no  lonsj^er  won- 
ders  at  the  object,  infinite  as  it  always  is,  but  at  the  human  intel- 
lect alone  which  in  a  Copernicus,  Kepler,  Gassendi,  Newton,  and 
La  Place,  was  able  to  transcend  the  object,  by  science  to  termi- 
nate the    miracle,  to    reave    the   heaven   of  its   divinities,    and    to 

» 

1  Metajihysira.  book  i  2.  9     Com;):ire  I'lato,   T/ifrtetii^.  \>.  155.  —  Kd. 


Lect.  n.  METAPHYSICS.  27 

exorcise  the  universe.  But  even  this,  the  only  admiration  of  which 
our  intelligent  faculties  are  now  ca})able,  would  vanish,  were  a 
future  Hartley,  Darwin,  Condiilac,  or  lionnet,  to  succeed  in  display- 
ing to  us  a  mechanical  system  of  the  human  mind,  as  com])re- 
hensive,  intelligible,  and  satisfactory  as  the  Newtonian  mecha- 
nism of  the  heavens."^ 

To  this  testimony  I  may  add  that,  should  Physiology  ever  suc- 
ceed in  reducing  the  facts  of  intelligence  to  Phrenoinena  of  matter, 
Philosophy  would  be  subverted  in  the  subversion  of  its  three  great 
objects,  —  God,  Free-Will,  and  Immortality.  True  wisdom  would 
then  consist,  not  in  sjjeculation,  but  in  repressing  thouglit  during 
our  brief  transit  from  nothingness  to  nothingness.  For  why? 
Philosophy  Avould  have  become  a  meditation,  not  merely  of  death, 
but  of  annihilation ;  the  precept,  Kno^o  thyself,  would  have  been 
replaced  by  the  terrific  oracle  to  Oedipus  — 

"  Miiy'st  thou  ne'er  know  the  truth  of  ■\vhat  thou  art;" 

and  the  final  recompense  of  our  scientific  curiosity  would  be 
wailing,  deeper  than  Cassandra's,  for  the  ignorance  that  saved  us 
from  despair. 

TJie  views  which  I  have  now  taken  of  the  respective  influence  of 
the  sciences  of  mind  and  of  matter  in  relation 

Coincidence  of  the  xo  our  rcligious  bclietj  are  those  which  have 
view,  here  given,  with       .^^.._^^   deliberately  adopted   bv  tlie  profbundest 

those  of  previous  piii-  "^  '  '    ^.^ 

lo.f.j.hprs.  thinkers,  ancient  and  modern.     V\  ere  1  to  quote 

to  von  the  testimonies  that  crowd  on  mv  recol- 
lection  to  the  effect  that  ignorance  of  Self  is   ignorance  of  God, 
I  should  make  no  end,  for  this  is  a  truth  proclaimed  by  Jew  and 
Gentile,  Christian  and  iVIohammedan.     I  shall  content  myself  with 
adducing  three  passages  from  three  philosophers,  whicli  I  select, 
both  as  articulatelv  confirming  all  that  i   have  now  advanced,  and 
because  there  are  not,  in  the  Avholc  liistory  of  speculation,  three 
autlioritics  on  the  point  in  (jucstion   more  entitled  to  res])cct. 
The  first  quotation   is  from  Plato,  and   it  corroi)oratcs  the  doc- 
trine I  liave  maintained  in  reg.ard  to  the  condi- 
tmns  ot  a  God,  and   ot  our  knowledge   of  Ins 
existence.      "The  cause,"  he  says,   "of  all   impiety    and    irreligion 
among  men  is,  that   reversing  in  themselves  the  relativi-  subordi- 
nation of  mind   and   body,  they   have,   in   like  manner,  in  tlie   uni- 
verse, made  that  to  l)e  first  whuh  is  second,  and  that  to  be  second 

1  Jacobi,  Werhe,  vol.  ii.  p.  52-54.     l^uoted  in  Disciiffioiif,  \>  .312.  —  Ed. 


28  METAI'IIYSICS.  Lkct.   Ii. 

which  is  first ;  for  wliilo,  in  tlie  generation  of  all  things,  intel- 
ligence and  final  causes  })recede  matter  and  efficient  causes,  they, 
on  the  contrary,  have  viewed  matter  and  material  things  as  abso- 
lutely prior,  in  the  order  of  existence,  to  inlelligonce  and  design; 
and  thus  departing  from  an  original  error  in  relation  to  them- 
selves, they  have  ended  in  the  subversion  of  the  Godhead."' 
The  second  quotation  is  from  Kant;  it  finely  illustrates  the  intiu- 

ences  of  material  and  mental   studies   bv  con- 
Kant.  ■  .  .  *  1  , 

trasting  them  in  reference  to  the  verv  noblest 

object  of  either,  and  the  passage  is  woitliy  of  your  attention,  not 
only'  for   the    soundness   of  its  doctrine,   but  for  the   natural  and 
unsought-for  sublimity  of  its  expression  :  "  Two  things  there  are^ 
which,  the  oftener  and  tlie  more  steadfastly  we  consider,  fill  the 
mind  with  an  ever  new,  an  ever  rising  admiration  and  reverence; 
—  fh(i  STARRY  HEAVEN  obom,  the  MORAL  LAAV  v/dhui.     Of  neither 
am  I  compelled  to  seek  out  the  reality,  as  veiled  in  darkness,  or 
only  to   conjecture  the  possibility,  as  beyond    the   hemisphere  of 
my  knowle<lge.      Both    I  contemplate  lying  clear  before  me,  and 
connect  both  immediately  with  my  consciousness  of  existence.    The 
one  departs  from  the  place  I  occupy  in  the  outer  world  of  sense ; 
expands,  beyond   the  .bounds  of  imagination,  this  connection   of 
inv  bodv  with  worlds  rising  bevond  worlds,  and  svstems  blendinsx 
into  .systems;  and  protends  it  also  into  the  illimitable  times  of  their 
periodic  movement  —  to  its  commencement  and  perpetuity.     The 
other  departs   from   my  invisible  self,    from    my   j^ersonality ;    and 
represents  me  in  a  Avorld,  truly  infinite  indeed,  but  whose  infinity 
can  be  tracked  out  only  by  the  intellect,  with  Avhich  also  my  con- 
nection, unlike  the  fortuitous  relation  I  stand  in  to  all  worlds  of 
sense,  I  am  compelled   to   recognize   as   universal   and  necessary. 
In  the  former,  the   first  view  of  a  countless  nviltitude  of  worlds 
annihilates,  as  it  Avere,  my  im{)ortance  as  an  animal prochict,  which, 
after  a  brief  and  that  incoii\prehensible  endowment  Avith  the  pow- 
ers of  life,  is   compelled  to  refund  its  constituent  mattar  to  the 
planet  —  itself  an  atom  in  the  universe  —  on  Avhich  it  grcAV.     The 
other,  on  the  contraiy,  elevates  my  Avorth  as  an  intelUgence  even 
Avithout  limit;  and  this  through  my  pensonality,  in  Avhich  the  moral 
law  reveals  a  fiiculty  of  life  independent  of  my  animal  nature,  naA", 
of  the  Avhole  material  Avorld:  —  at  least  if  it  be  permitted  to  infer 
as   much    from    the   regulation   of  my  being,  Avhich    a   conformity 
with  that  laAv  exacts;  proposing,  as  it  ^oes,  my  moral  worth  for 

1  De  Lf gibus,  book  x.  pp.  888.  889.     Quoted       iii  ,  Lond.  ed.),  and  Eternal  and  Immut.  Mor- 
in   Difcussions,  p.  312.     Compare  Cudworth,       nlilij,  hook  \v. .  c.  y\.  i  d,  snj.  —  Ed. 
bUell.  Sjstem,  c.  v.  §  iv.  (p.  4.35  et  seq.  of  vol. 


Lkct.  n.  METAPHYSICS.  29 

the  absolute  end  of  my  activity,  conceding  no  compromise  of  its 
imperative  to  a  necessitation  of  nature,  and  sj^urning,  in  its  infinity, 
the  conditions  and  boundaries  of  my  present  transitory  life."^ 

The  tliird  quotation  is  from  the  pious  and  profound  Jacohi,  and 
it  states  the  truth  boklly  tmd  without  disguise 
in  regard  to  the  rehition  of  Physics  and  Met- 
aphysics to  Religion.  "  But  is  it  unreasonal)le  to  confess,  that  Ave 
believe  in  God,  not  by  reason  of  the  nature'^  which  conceals  him, 
but  by  reason  of  the  supernatural  in  man,  whicli  alone  reveals  and 
proves  him  to  exist? 

^'■Nature  conceals  God:  for  through  her  Avhole  domain  Xaturo 
reveals  only  fate,  only  an  indissoluble  chain  of  mere  efficient  causes 
without  beginning  and  Avithout  end,  excluding,  with  equal  neces- 
sity, both  providence  and  chance.  An  independent  agency,  a  free 
original  commencement  within  her  s])here  and  proceeding  from  her 
powers,  is  absolutely  impossible.  Working  without  Avill,  she  takes 
counsel  neither  of  the  good  nor  of  the  beautiful;  creating  nothing, 
she  casts  up  from  ])er  dark  abyss  only  eternal  transformations  of 
herself,  unconsciously  and  without  an  end;  furthering,  witli  the 
same  ceaseless  industry,  decline  and  increase,  death  and  life, — 
never  producing  what  alone  is  of  God  and  what  supposes  liberty, 
—  the  virtuous,  the  immortal. 

"i)/rt«.  reveals  God;  for  man  by  his  intelligence  rises  above  na- 
ture, and  in  virtue  of  this  intelligence  is  conscious  of  himself  as  a 
power  not  only  independent  of,  but  ojiposed  to,  nature,  and  capable 
of  resisting,  conipiering,  and  controlling  her.  As  man  has  a  living 
faith  in  tliis  power,  superior  to  nature,  which  dwells  in  him ;  so 
has  he  a  l^elief  in  God,  a  feeling,  an  exi-erience  of  his  existence 
As  he  does  not  believe  in  this  power,  so  does  he  not  believe  in 
God;  lie  sees,  he  experiences  naught  in  existence  but  nature, — 
necessity,  —  fate."  ^ 

Siu'h  is  the  conqiarative  importance  of  the  sciences  of  mind  and 

of  matter  in  relation  to  the  interests  of  religion. 

These  USC8  of  Psy-       j^,,^  jt  „i^y  \,q  said,  how  great  soever  be  the 

ciu.iosy    not    super-        ^.^^^^^  ^^  lijulosophv  iu  this  rcsiiect,  wcrc  man 

seiied  by  the  Christian  '  '     •  .it 

revelation  l<-'ft  to  Hsc  to  tlic  divuiity  by  tlie  unaided  ex- 

ercise of  his  faculties,  this  value  is    superseded 
under  the   Christian  dispensation,  the  Gospel  now  assuring  us  of 

1  Kritik  (Ifr  prnktisrhen  Vernunft.  Reschluss.  world  of  Matter,  in  contrast  to  the  world  of 

Quoted  in  T^WH.'js/oHx,  ]i  310.  — Ed.  Iiitelllj.'enoe.]  —  Ora/     Intrrjwlalion,    .supplied 

-  [Ill  tliepliilosopliy  of  (u'rinany.  .V.if^r  and  from  Rdd's  M'orks,^  216  —  En. 

it.s  correlative.^,  wlietlur  of  Greek   or   I.atiu  •"■   Von  dm  GHUlidicn  Dhigm.     W'trkf,  iii.  p 

derivation,  are,  iu  general,  expre.<.«ive  of  tlie  42-t-2<j.  —  Ed. 


80  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  IL 

all  and  more  than  all  philosophy  coukl  ever  warrant  us  in  surmis- 
ing. It  is  true,  indeed,  that  in  Revelation  there  is  contained  a 
great  complement  of  trutlis  of  which  natural  reason  could  afford 
us  no  knowledge  or  assurance,  but  still  the  importance  of  mental 
science  to  theology  has  not  become  supei-fluous  in  Christianity;  for 
whereas  anterior  to  Revelation,  religion  rises  out  of  psychology  as 
a  result,  subsequently  to  revelation,  it  supposes  a  genuine  ])liilos- 
ophy  of  mind  as  the  condition  of  its  truth.  This  is  at  once  mani- 
fest. Revelation  is  a  revelation  to  man  and  concerning'  man ;  and 
man  is  only  the  object  of  revelation,  inasmuch  as  he  is  a  moral,  a 
free,  a  resjjonsible  being.  The  Scrij^tures  are  rejDlete  with  testi- 
monies to  our  natural  liberty ;  and  it  is  the  doctrine  of  every 
Christian  church,  that  man  was  originally  created  with  a  will  capa- 
ble equally  of  good  as  of  evil,  though  this  w^ill,  subsequently  to  the 
fall,  has  lost  much  of  its  ]>rimitive  liberty.  Christianity  thus,  by 
universal  confession,  supposes  as  a  condition  the  moral  nature  of 
its  object ;  and  if  some  individual  tlieologians  be  found  who  have 
denied  to  man  a  higher  liberty  than  a  machine,  this  is  only  another 
example  of  the  truth,  that  there  is  no  opinion  which  has  been  una- 
ble to  find  not  only  its  champions  but  its  martyi-s.  The  diifer- 
ences  which  divide  the  Christian  churches  on  this  question,  regard 
only  the  liberty  of  man  in  certain  particular  relations,  for  fatalism,, 
or  a  negation  of  human  responsibility  in  general,  is  equally  hostile 
to  the  tenets  of  the  Calvinist  and  Arminian. 

In  these  circumstances  it  is  evident,  that  he  who  disbelieves  the 
moral  agency  of  man  must,  in  consistency  with  that  opinion,  disbe- 
lieve Christianity.  And  therefore  inasmuch  as  Philosophy,  —  the 
Philosophy  of  Mind,  —  scientifically  establishes  the  proof  of  human 
liberty,  philosophy,  in  this,  as  in  many  other  relations  not  now  to 
be  considered,  is  the  true  preparative  and  best  aid  of  an  enlightened 
Christian  Tlieology. 


LECTURE    Til. 

THE  NATURE  AND  COMPREHENSION  OF  PHILOSOPHY. 

I  HAVE  been  in  the  custom  of  delivering  sometimes  togetlier, 
more  frequently  in  alternate  years,  two  systematic  courses  of  lec- 
tures,—  the  one  on  Psychology,  that  is,  the  science  which  is  con- 
versant about  the  phamomena  of  mind  in  general,  —  the  otlier  on 
Logic,  that  is,  the  science  of  the  laws  regulating  the  manifestation 
and  legitimacy  of  the  highest  faculty  of  Cognition,  —  Thought, 
strictlv  so  denominated  —  the  facultv  of  Relations,  —  tlie  Under- 
standing  proper.  As  first,  or  initiative,  courses  of  philosophy, — 
each  has  its  peculiar  advantages;  and  I  know  not,  in  truth,  Avhich 
I  should  recommend  a  student  to  commence  with.  What,  however, 
I  find  it  expedient  to  premise  to  each  is  an  Introduction,  in  which 
the  nature  and  general  relations  of  ])hilosoj)hy  arc  explained,  and  a 
summary  view  taken  of  the  faculties  (particularly  the  Cognitive 
faculties),  of  mind. 

In  the  ensuing  course,  wo  shall  be  occupied  with  the  General 
Philosojjhy  of  Mind. 

You  are,  then,  about  to  commence  a  course  of  ])hilo.sophical  dis- 
cii)line, — for  Psvchology  is  i)reeminently  a  phil- 

Wliat  riiilosoiihy  is.  ,.      ,        .         "        t     •       i  ^  -i     <• 

osophical  science.  It  is  therefore  proi)er,  before 
proceeding  to  a  consideration  of  the  speciiil  objects  of  our  course, 
that  you  should  obtain  at  least  a  general  notion  of  what  philosophy 
is.  But  in  affonliug  you  this  infonuaticju,  it  is  evident  that  there  lie 
considerable  dilhculties  in  the  way.  For  tiie  delinitiou,  and  the 
divisions  of  philosophy  are  the  results  of  a  lofty  generalization  from 
particulars,  of  which  ))articulars  you  are,  or  must  be  jiresumed  to 
be,  still  ignorant.  Yon  ciiniiot,  theretbre,  il  is  iii.niifi'st,  be  made 
adequali'lv  to  comi)rehen(l,  in  tlic  commencement  of  your  jihilo- 
sophical  studies,  notions  which  these  studies  themselves  are  in- 
tended to  enable  you  to  understand.  But  although  you  cannot  at 
once  obtain  a  full  kiu)wledge  of  the  nature  of  ])hilos()phy,  it  is 
desirable  that  you  should  be  enabled  to  form  at  least  some  vague 
conception  of  the  road  you  are  about  to  travel,  and  of  the  ])oint  to 
which  it  will  conduct  you.     I  must,  therefore,  beg  that  y<.u  will,  for 


S2  M1:T  APII  YSICS.  Lkct.  IIL 

till'  }»resent,  hypotlietieally  believe,  —  believe  upon  authority, — 
what  you  may  not  now  adequately  understand ;  but  this  only  to 
the  end  that  you  may  not  hereafter  be  under  the  necessity  of  tak- 
ing any  conclusion  upon  trust.  Nor  is  this  temporary  exaction  of 
credit  peculiar  to  philosophical  education.  In  the  order  of  nature, 
belief  always  precedes  knowledge,  —  it  is  the  condition  of  instruc- 
tion. The  child  (as  observed  by  Aristotle)  must  believe,  in  order 
that  he  may  learn ;  ^  and  even  the  primary  facts  of  intelligence,  — 
the  facts  Avliich  precede,  as  they  afford  the  conditions  of,  all  knowl- 
edge, —  would  not  be  original  were  they  revealed  to  us  under  any 
other  form  than  that  of  natural  or  necessary  beliefs.  Without 
further  jireamble,  therefore,  I  shall  now  endeavor  to  afford  you  some 
general  notion  of  what  philosophy  is.^ 

In  doing  this,  there  are  two  questions  to  be  answered:  —  1st, 
What  is  the  meaning  of  the  name  f  and,  2d, 

wo   qnts  loii!-  What  is  the  meanino'  of  the  thinq  ?    An  answer 

Tjardiiig    rinlosopliy-  p        _  «^      _ 

to  the  former  question  is  afforded  in  a  nominal 
deiinition  of  the  term  loliilosophyy  and  in  a  history  of  its  employ- 
ment and  application. 

In  regard  to  the  etymological  signification  of  the  word,  you  are 

aware  that  Philosophy  is  a  term  of  Greek  origin 

Pbiiosopby  -  the       _  ^,j^^   j^    .^   ,^  compound  of  t^iAos,  a  lover  or 

friend,   and   aocfiLa,'^    loisdom  —  speculative  wis- 
dom..   Philosophy  is  thus,  literally,  c<  love  of  wisdom.     But  if  the 
grammatical  meaning  of  the  word  be  unambiguous,  the  history  of 
its  apjilication  is,  I  think,  involved  in  considerable  doubt.     Accord- 
ing   to   the    commonly   received    account,   the 

tomn.only   referred  (Jesiguatiou    of    philosopher    {lover   or   SuitOr    of 

to  Pythajjoras.  •    ?      x  «     *  i  i  r    j     / 

vnsdom)  was  nrst  assumcfl  and  applied  by 
Pythagoras  ;  whilst  of  the  occasion  and  circumstances  of  its  assump- 
tion, we  have  a  story  by  Cicero,^  on  the  authority  of  Heraclides 
Ponticus  f  and  by  Diogenes  Laertius,  in  one  place^,'"'  on  the  authority 

1  Siiph.  Kfiich.  c.  2.  —  Ed.  oti  ou  to,  avbpdnTi.va,  aya^a  ^r\TOV(Ti.v.      'H 

2  On  comprehension  of  Philosophy  inter  54  0pi„jj<jis  irif)!  to  av^pdoTrtfa,  Kcd  irfpi,  Zii/ 
Antiqiios,  see  Brandis,  Geschichte  cler  Ptiiloso-  ((tti  BovAfvaaaMi.  Prom  the  loiij,'cominen- 
phie,  etc.,  vol.  i.  S  6,  p.  7,seq.  tary  of  East  rat  in.-;,  the  following  extract  will 

3  2o(J)ta  in  Greek,  though  sometimes  used  be  sufficient :  'AAAa  t^  reKo?  tov  aoipov  ri 
in  a  wide  sense,  like  the  term  ivise  ajjpHed  to  beopia  tvjs  aWdeias  iar\,  kbJ  t)  tov  ovtos 
skill  ill  handicraft,  yet  pro])crly  denoted  spec-  KaraATjifis"  oiixl  Se  ti  irpaKThi/  aya^Of. 
ulative,  not  practical  wisdom  or  prudence.  TlpaKrhu  yap  iffTiv  kyoAhv  rh  5ia  7rpd|6a'5 
See  Aristotle,  Et/i.  Nic.  lib.  vi.  c.  7,  with  tlie  KaTopdov/^fyoi',  ^eccpia  Se  irpd^fws  krepa- — 
commentary  of  Eustratius.  [Aih  Aya^ay6pov,  Ed. 

Kol  @a\7ii'  Kol  rovs  toiovtovs,  ao'povs  fiev,  4  TitseTQueast.  lib.  v.  c.  3. 

(ppovifj.ovi   S'   ov   Oaaiu    fluai,    brav  tScixTtv  ^  Heraclides    Ponticus  —  scholar    both    of 

S^yvooui/Tas  ra.  irvaOtpovd'  iaunn^'  Koi  irtp-  Plato  and   of  Aristotle. 

<TTO  fxfw,   Kal  davfiocTTa.,   koI   x'^^f"'")  A'ai  *>  Lib.  1.  12. 

Saifj.oyta  flStvai  avTovs  <pa<nv,  axpV''"''^-  5', 


Lkct.  m.  METAPHYSICS.  33 

■of  Heniclides,  and  in  another,"  on  that  of  Sosicrates,  —  although  it 
is  doubtful  whether  the  word  Sosicrates  be  not  in  the  second  pas- 
sage a  corrupted  lection  for  Heraclides;^  in  which  case  the  whole 
probability  of  the  story  will  depend  upon  the  trustworthiness  of 
Heraclides  alone,  for  the  comparatively  recent  testimony  of  lam- 

blichus,  in  his  Life  of  Pythagoras,  must  go  for 
The   interview   of       jjothiug.     As  told  by  Cicero,  it  is  as  follows  :  — 

Pythagoras  and  Leon.         -^      ,  •  ,  ,i        rt 

Pythagoras  once  upon  a  time  (says  the  Koman 
orator),  having  come  to  Phlius,  a  city  of  Peloponnesus,  displayed, 
in  a  conversation  which  he  had  with  Leon,  who  then  governed 
that  city,  a  range  of  knowledge  so  extensive,  that  the  prince, 
admiring  his  eloquence  an(l  ability,  inquired  to  Avhat  art  he  had 
principally  devoted  himself  Pythagoras  answered,  that  he  pro- 
fessed no  art,  and  was  simply  a  p^^7oso/)/te?^  Leon,  struck  by  the 
novelty  of  the  name,  again  inquired  who  were  the  philosophers,  and 
in  what  they  differed  from  other  men.  Pythagoras  replied,  that 
human  life  seemed  to  resemble  the  great  fair,  held  on  occasion  of 
those  solemn  games  which  all  Greece  met  to  celebrate.  P^or  some, 
<}xercised  in  athletic  contests,  resorted  thither  in  quest  of  glory  and 
the  crown  of  victory ;  while  a  greater  number  flocked  to  them  in 
order  to  buy  and  sell,  attracted  by  the  love  of  gain.  There  were  a 
few,  however,  —  and  they  were  those  distinguished  by  their  liber- 
ality and  intelligence,  —  who  came  from  no  motive  of  glory  or  of 
gain,  but  simply  to  look  about  them,  and  to  take  note  of  what  was 
done,  and  in  what  manner.  So  likewise,  continued  Pythagoras,  we 
men  all  make  our  entrance  into  this  life  on  our  departure  from 
another.  Some  are  here  occupied  in  the  pursuit  of  honors,  others 
in  the  search  of  riches;  a  few  there  are  who,  indifferent  to  all  else, 
devote  themselves  to  an  iii(|i;iry  into  the  nature  of  things.  These, 
then,  are  tliey  wliom  I  call  students  of  wisdom,  for  such  is  meant  by 
philoso]>her. 

Pythagoras  was  a  native  of  Samos,  and  flourished  about  0 GO  years 
before  the  advent  of  Christ,'' — about  130  years 

Rests  on   .IomMIuI       y^^f^^yQ  ^]^q  jjirtij  of  Pl;,to.     HeracUdes  and  Sosi- 

authority.  ,  ,  n  .i  •       .  -^  .^.      • 

crates,  the  two  vouchers  or  this  story,  —  it  Sosi- 
crates be  indeed  a  voucher,  —  lived  long  subsequently  to  the  age 
■of  Pythagoras;  and  the- former  is,  moreover,  confessed  to  have 
been  an  egregious  fabulist.      From  llie  piiiicipal  circumstances  of 

1  Lib.  vili.  8.  B-  ^-  640-610,  in  the  times  of  Pol)-crati>.s  and 

2  See  Menage,  Commentary  on  Laertim,  Taniuinins  Supcrbns  (Clinton,  F.  H.  lAQ.) 
viii.  8.  JI'"  l>irtli  is  usually  placeil  in  the  49tli  Olym- 

"  The  exact  dates  of  the  birth  and  dciitli  of  piad  ( B.  ('.  5841.  See  Brandis,  Gf$rh.  ,hr  Vftil. 
P>-thagora.s  are  uncertain.  Nearly  all  author-  vol.  i.  l>  422;  Zeller,  Vhil.  drr  Griechen.,  vol.  l 
ities,  however,  are  agreed  that  he  '•  flourished"       p.  217,  2a  ed.  —  Ed. 


34  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  III. 

his  life,  mentioned  by  Laertius  after  older  authors,  and  from  the 
fragments  we  possess  of  the  works  of  Ileraclides,  —  in  short,  from 
all  opinions,  ancient  and  modern,  we  learn  that  he  ^  was  at  once 
credulous  and  deceitful,  —  a  dupe  and  an  impostor.  The  anecdote, 
therefore,  rests  on  very  slender  authority.  It  is  probable,  I  think, 
that  Socrates  was  the  first  who  adopted,  or,  at  least,  the  first  who 

familiarized,  the  expression.^  It  was  natural  that 
Socrates  pobabiy  the       j^g  should  be  anxious  to  Contradistinguish  him- 

flrst  to  familiarize  the  -i/.    />  ^i         o       i  •   ^         /   «  i    ^       '  i  v 

sell   irom   the    hopnists,    (oi   0-0901,  m   o-o^torai, 
sophistae),  literally,  the  loise  men  f  and  no  term 
could  more  appropriately  ridicule  the  arrogance  of  these  pretend- 
ers, or  afford  a  happier  contrast  to  their  haughty  designation,  than 
that  of  philosopher  (/.  e.,  the  lover  of  wisdom) ;  and,  at  the  same 
time,  it  is  certain  that  the  substantives  ^iXoo-o<^ta  and  <^iXoo-o^os, 
first  appear  in  the  writings  of  the  Socratic  school.*     It  is  true,  in- 
deed, that  the  verb  <{)LXo(Tocf>€Lv  is  found  in  Hero- 
^^xoao<pe7uioxmAm       ^^^      -^  ^^^  addrcss  by  Croesus  to  Solon  ;'  and 

Herodotus.  '  %  .  ' 

that  too  in  a  participial  form,  to  designate  the  lat- 
ter as  a  man  who  had  travelled  abroad  for  the  purpose  of  acquiring 

knowledge,  (ws  <f>Lkoa-o<^iu)v  yrjv  TToAA^v  ^ewpiTjs  etvEKev  eirfXyjXv^a^). 
It  is,  therefore,  not  impossible  that,  before  the  time  of  Socrates, 
those  who  devoted  themselves  to  the  pursuit  of  the  higher  branches 
of  knowledge,  were  occasionally  designated  pliilosophers:  but  it  is 
far  more  probable  that  Socrates  and  his  school  first  appropriated 
the  term  as  a  distinctive  a])pellation  ;  and  that  the  word  ph'dosopliy^ 
in  consequence  of  this  apju-opriation,  came  to  be  employed  for  the 
complement  of  all  higher  knowledge,  and,  more  especially,  to  denote 
the  science  conversant  about  the  princij)les  or  causes  of  existence. 
The  term  philosophy^  I  may  notice,  Avhich  was  originally  assumed 
in  modesty,  soon  lost  its  Socratic  and  etymological  signification, 
and  returned  to  the  meaning  of  <Totf)ia,  or  wisdom.  Quintilian®  calls 
it  nometi  insolentissimum  ^  Seneca,'^  nomen  invidiosum  ;  Epictetus^ 


1  Compare  Meiners,   Geschichte  der  Wissen-  Journal  of  Classical  and  Sarred  Philology,  \o\.  i. 
srhnflni   in    Grier/ienland  und   Rom,  vol.  i.  p.  p.  182. — Ed. 

118;  and  Krug.  ieiifcon,  vol.  iii.  p.  211.  — Ed.  4  See  especially  Tlato,    Pli<r:driis,  p.  27S  : — 

,  Th  fjiv  cro(p6v.  Si  "tarSpf,  KaXfiv  tfioiyt  f^eya 

2  There  i..,  however,  the  ,„rpbs  <PiKocro<t>os  ^j^^^  g^^^-  ^^v  ^^~  ^,^^  ^^.^^^^.  ^j,  5^  ^ 

lao^eos  of  Hippocrates.     lU.t  this  occurs  in  ^,^^^„^^^   ^   to.o'CtoV   tc    /iSAAoV    te    &^ 

oneof  the  Ilippocraticwritniffs  which  IS  man-  ,    -     <       /                \      >       ■,         '           " 

' '            ,      -    ,             ,  avTcu     apuoTTOt     Kal     eu.fj.6\((TTep(i>s,    « Yoi. 

ifcstlv   spurious,  and  of  date  sub.scquent  to  „     '            ,      ^,      ,        ■  \-          /•  *i        i  -i 

•'     »             '                                      '  Compare  also  the  descniition  ot  the  philoso- 

the  father  of  medicine.    Hippocrates  was  an  .       ■     ^i      c.            ■             oa^    „              >■> 

' '  pher  111  the  Si/mposiu>n.  p.  204,  as  ufratv  ffo- 

early  contemporary  of  .Socrates     [Theexpre.s-  j,  -      \  >      a!  -          t- 

•^               '         ■      ,     ,                ,           '  <pov  Kal  aua^ovs.  —  Ed. 

sion  occurs  in  the  Tlfpi  Evcrxvt^offui/Tjs,  Opera  ,  j  -i    •  on 

—  Quarto Ctoiis,  p. 41,  ed.  Venice,  1588. — Ed.]  "         '     '    '   „ 

^                       IF.                       .                      '  c,  Inst.  Oral.  Prooem. 

3  Perhaps  rather  "  the  Professors  of  Wis-  7  Epist.  v. 

dom,"    See  an  able  paper  by  Mr.  Cope  in  the  8  Ench.  c.  63,  ed.  Wolf;  46  ed.  Schweigh. 


Lect.  in.  METAPHYSICS.  35 

ccanseLs  his  scholars  not  to  call  themselves  "  Philosophers ; "  and 
proud  is  one  of  the  most  ordinary  epithets  Avith  which  jjliilosophy  is 
now  associated.  Thus  Campbell,  in  his  Address  to  the  Rainbow, 
says : 

"  I  ask  not  proud  philosophj* 
To  tell  me  what  thou  art." 

So  much  for  the  name  signifying ;  we  proceed  now  to  the  thing 

signified.      Were  I  to  detail  to  von  the  various 

iiosopiy—     e       definitions^    of  philosophy    which    idiilosophers 

thing  —  its  (letinitions.  ^  i     ^  i  i        ^ 

have  promulgated  —  far  more,  were  I  to  explain 
the  grounds  on  which  the  author  of  each  maintains  the  exclusive 
adequacy  of  his  jjeculiar  definition  —  I  should,  in  the  present  stage 
of  your  progress,  only  2ierj)lex  and  confuse  you.  Philosophy,  for 
exami)le,  —  and  I  select  only  a  iaw  specimens  of  the  more  illustri- 
ous definitions,  —  philosophy  has  been  defined:  —  The  science  of 
things  divine  and  human,  and  of  the  causes  in  which  they  are  con- 
tained;^—  The  science  of  effects  by  their  causes;''  —  The  science 
of  sufficient  reasons;^  — The  science  of  things  possible,  inasmuch 
as  they  are  possible;''  —  The  science  of  things,  evidently  deduced 
from  first  principles;"  —  The  science  of  truths,  sensible  and  ab- 
stract;^—  The  application  of  reason  to  its  legitimate  objects;*  — 
The  science  of  the  relations  of  all  knowledge  to  the  necessary  ends 
of  human  reason;^  —  The  science  of  the  original  form  of  the  ego 
or  mental  self;^"  —  The  science  of  science;"  —  The  science  of  the 

1  Vide    Gassen/H,  i.  p.   1,    *eq.;  Deiizingcr,  4  Leibnitz,  quoted  by  Mazuro, CoHr.<  rff' P/ii7- 

Instit.  Log.  i.  p.  40:  Scbeidler's  Encyclop.  pp.  osophie,  torn.  i.  p.  2;  see  also  Weiizel,  Elementa 

66,  75;  Weise,  Log.  p.  8;  Sclieiblerui^fcO/;.  Log.  Philosophio',  torn.  i.  J  7.     Cf.  Leibnitz,  Lettres 

i.  J).  1,  sell.  fiitre    Leibnitz    et    Clarke,    Optra,    p.    7TS,   (ed, 

-'  Cicero,  De  Officii^,  ii    2.     Xec  (iiiidquam  Erd.)  — Ed. 

aliud   est    pbilosophia,   si    inteipietari   velis,  r,  \\o\i'.  Philoanphia  Ralionalis,  ^ '^.  —  Kd. 

quam  .'itiidium  sapientiic.     .Sapieiitia  autem  <>  Descaites,   Priiicipia,    Epistola   Autboris. 

est,    (lit    a    veteribus    pliilosopliis    delinitiim  ('<".  Wolf.  Phil.  Rat.  §  33.  —  Ed. 

est),  reruni  diviiianim  et  btiniaiiaiuin,  causa-  "  roiulillac,  L'Art  de  Raisnnner.  Cniirs.  torn. 

rum<|»e  qiiibiis  ha'  res  contiiieiiliir,  scieiitia.  iii.  p.  3,  (ed.  17S0).     Cf  ("lenieiis  Alex..  .'?trom. 

Cf.   Ttisc.  QiiiTst.  iv.  26,  v.  3.     De  Fin    ii.  12;  viii.  8,  p.  782.    f)  Si  ri)u  (j>i\oa6<P(t)i'  rrpayfia- 

Seneca,  Epist.  89;  rseu<lo-I'Iutarcli,  De  Pinr.  Tti'a  Trtpi  t€  ra  vornnara  koI  to.  viroKfifj.ffa 

Philos.  Trooem.:  ol  ijiv  ovv  Stcoj'k-oI   tOatraf  KaTayiuerai.  —  Kl). 

T/jf  net/  ffoOiav  iivai  bfitnv  t€  wai  avSlpunvi-  m  Compare  Teiiiieniann,  Geschichte  der  Phii- 

vwv  4niffTT]fj.r)i''   Trjv  5e   <pi\o(To(f>iav,   &(rK7]-  osop/iir,  Eiiileitiiiig,  §  13  —  Eo. 

iTtv  rfxvv^  4niTriSfi6v.      Cf.  I'lato,  Plupilnis,  9  Kant,  Krilik  der  reinen    Vemunft,  Method- 

p.  25!);   iJr/).  vi.  p.  481).  —  flu.  enlebiv,  c.  3;    Krug,  Pliilosophisehes    Leriknn, 

■'!  Ilobbes,     Conipitlalio    sife    Loglcn,   c.    1;  iii.  p.  213.  —  En. 

Philosopliia  est  (•irrcfuuni  sive  riKriionieiioiii  ■'•  Knig,  Philosophisrhes  Lerikim.  iii.  p.  21.3. 

ex  conceptis  coruni  causis  seu  generationibus,  The  dclinition  is  sub.stnntially  Kicbte's.    See 

et  rui-sus  generafionum  qua;  esse  possunt,  ex  bis   Grundlage  der    Gesanimten    Wissensehn/tH' 

cognitis  cfTectibus  \kv  rectani  ratioeiiiationem  lehren.  {Wrrkr,  i   p.  2S.T);  and  bis  Ztccile  Einlei- 

acquisita    cogiiitio.     Cf    Arist.    Mlaph.  i.   1.  tung  in  die  \Vissenseliaft!iehrt,{\Virkr,  i.  ^.  Mh-* 

T^v   ovofiaCoixfvriv    crocpiav    iTtpX   to   irpdrra  —  El>. 

aSVia  Kol  Toy  apxas   xmoXaiji^ivovffi  irivrts.  H  Eicbte,  Vber  den  Begriff  der   V.'i%<.e>'rhn.'':t 

—  Ed.  l,hrt.  I,  1  (  Werke.  i   45  )—  Ed 


S6  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  III. 

absolute :  —  The  science  of  the  absolute  indifference  of  the  ideal 
and  real-  —  or,  The  identity  of  identity  and  non-identity,  etc,  etc;' 
All  such  definitions  are  (if  not  })Ositively  erroneous),  either  so  vague 
that  they  afford  no  precise  knowledge  of  their  object;  or  they  are 
so  partial,  that  they  exclude  what  they  ought  to  comprehend ;  or 
they  are  of  such  a  nature  that  they  supply  no  preliminary  informa- 
tion, and  are  only  to  be  understood,  (if  ever,)  after  a  knowledge 
has  been  acquired  of  that  which  they  ]»rofess  to  exjdain.  It  is,  in- 
deed, })erhaps  impossible,  adequately  to  define  i)lulosophy.  For 
what  is  to  be  defined  comprises  what  cannot  be  included  in  a 
single  definition.  For  ])hiloso])hy  is  not  regarded  from  a  single 
point  of  view,  —  it  is  sometimes  considered  as  theoretical,  —  that  is, 
in  relation  to  man  as  a  thinking  and  cognitive  intelligence;  some- 
times as  practical,  —  that  is,  in  relation  to  man  as  a  moral  agent ; 
—  and  sometimes,  as  comprehending  both  theory  and  practice. 
Again,  }>hilosophy  may  either  be  regarded  objectively,  that  is,  as  a 
coni}»lement  of  truths  known  ;  or  subjectively,  — that  is,  as  a  habit 
or  quality  of  the  mind  knowing.  In  these  circumstances,  I  shall 
not  attempt  a  definition  of  philosophy,  but  shall  endeavor  to  accom- 
plish the  end  Avhich  every  definition  proposes,  —  make  you  under- 
stand, as  precisely  as  the  imprecise  nature  of  the  object-matter  per- 
mits, what  is  meant  by  philosophy,  and  what  are  the  sciences  it 
properly  comprehends  wnthin  its  sphere. 

As  a  matter  of  history  I  may  here,  however,  parenthetically  men- 
tion, that  in  Greek  antiquity  there  were  in  all 
Definitions  in  Greek       ^j^   definitions    of   philosophy   which   obtained 

antiquity. 

celebrity.  On  these  collectively  there  are  ex- 
tant various  treatises.  Among  the  comnrentators  of  Aristotle,  that 
of  Ammonius  Hermioe*  is  the  oldest;  and  the  fullest  is  one  by  an 
anonymous  author,  lately  published  by  Dr.  Cramer  in  the  fourth 
volume  of  his  Anecdota  Grmea  Parisiensui.^  Of  the  six,  the  first 
and  second  define  philosophy  from  its  object  matter,  —  that  which 
it  is  about ;  the  third  and  fourth,  from  its  end,  —  that  for  the  sake 
of  which  it  is ;  the  fifth,  fi-om  its  relative  preeminence ;  and  the 
sixth,  from  its  etymology. 

1  Schelling,  Vom  Ich  nls  Princip  der  Philoso-      mentarius,  p.  1.  (ed.  Aid.)    Given  in  part  by 
phie,  S§  6,  9  :  Krug,  Lexilcon,  iii.  p.  213.  — Ed.        Brandis,  Scholia  in  Aris/otelem,  p.  9.  —  Ed. 

5  P.  389.    Extracted  also  in  part  by  Brandis, 

a  Schelling,  Bnmo,  p.  205  (2d  ed.)  Cf.  Pldl-      g^^^n^  ,•„  ^^i,t„t,i,„,^  p.  g.    T,,ig  commentary 

osophie  der  Natur,  Einleitung,  p.  64,  and  Zus-       jg  conjectured  by  Val.  Ro.se  ( De  Aristoteli.s  Lib- 

atzsurEinleitung,p.65-88(2ded.)-ED.  ^„„,„,   (^j-„^  ^,  Auctoritau,  p.  243)  to  be  the 

3  Hegel,  Logik,  (  Werke,  iii.  p.  64.) -Ed.  work  ofOlympiodorus    The  definitions  quoted 

^  '       ^        '  in  the  text  are  given  by  Tzetzes,  ChUiads,  x. 

4  Atnmonii  in  quinqus  voces  Porphyrii  Co7n-       600.  —  El>. 


Lkct.  III.  METAPHYSICS.  37 

The  first  of  these  definitions  of  ])hilosophy  is,  —  "the  knowledge 
of  things  existent  as  existent,"  —  (yvwo-is  twv  ovtwv  rj  om-a.y 

The  second  is — "the  knowledge  of  things  divine  and  liunian, — " 
(yvwo-ts  Seiiov  kol  dv^ptoTTiVwi/  Trpay/xarwv.)"  These  are  botli  from  the 
object-matter;  and  both  were  reiorred  to  Pytliagoras. 

The  third  and  fourth,  the  two  definitions  of  philoso])hy  from  its 
end,  are,  again,  both  taken  from  Plato.  Of  these  the  third  is, — 
"  philoso])hy  is  a  meditation  of  death,"  (/xeAc'rT;  Savdrov  ;)^  the  fourth 
—  "philosophy  is  a  resembling  of  the  Deity  in  so  far  as  that  is  com- 
petent to  man,  (6/jtotiuo-is  ^eciJ  Kara  to  Bvvarov  dv^pojTru).)^ 

The  fifth,  that  from  its  preeminence,  was  borrowed  from  Aris- 
totle, and  defined  ])hilosophy  "tlie  art  of  arts,  and  science  of 
sciences,"    {r^xfi]  t€;(Vwv  koI  l-n-Krrrjixr]  iTrKTT-qjxwv.)' 

Finally,  the  sixth,  that  from  the  etymology,  was  like  the  first  and 
second,  carried  u])  to  Pythagoras  —  it  defined  philosophy  "the  love 

of  wisdom,"  (cfiiXta  (TO<fiia<;.f 

To  these  a  seventh  and  even  an  eighth  Averc  sometimes  added, — 
but  the  seventh  was  that  by  the  physicians  who  defined  medicine 
the  philosophy  of  bodies,  (larpiKr]  Icm  (fnXoa-o^ia  (Toi/jLOLTotv) ;  and  phil- 
osophy, the  medicine  of  souls,  (^iXoo-o^ta  ia-rlv  larpiKi]  ij/v)(wv).'  This 
was  derided  by  the  philosophers ;  as,  to  s})eak  with  Homer,  being 
an  exchange  of  brass  for  gold,  and  of  gold  for  brass,  (xfjva-€a  ;^aA.- 
Keiwv) ;  and  as  defining  the  more  known  by  the  less  known. 

The  eighth  is  from  an  expression  of  Plato,  who,  in  the  Theav 
tetus,^  calls  philosophy  "the  greatest  music,"  (p-eyia-Tr)  /xovo-lkt],) 
meaning  thereby  the  harnvony  of  the  rational,  ii-ascible,  and  appe- 
tent,  parts  of  the  soul,  (Xoyo?,  Svfx6<;,  iin^vixia). 

But  to  return:  All  philosophy  is  knowledge,  but  all  knowledge 
is  not  philosophy.     Philosophy  is,  therefore,  a  kind  of  knowledge. 


1  Cf.  Arist.  Metnph.  iii.  1.  —  Kd.  KaKiK-fj  ye  fi  twv  cuTtwv  bfcaptiTiKij  /xaWov- 

2  See  an<^,  p.  35,  note  2.  —  Ed.  .    .   .   cljTf  ttjs  ToiavTris  &Wrjv  xi'V  co^'C*"' 

3  Phn-ilo,  p.  80:  tovto  5e  oiiSiv  &KKo  i(n\v  TifiioiTfpaV  f)  yap  i^eioraTTj  Kal  Tiijuunari). 
^  hpbws  <t>i\oao<iov<Ta  koI  toJ  oj/ti  T(S)vat>at  <'f-  Elk.  Nic.  vi.  7:  SrjXof  Stj  t)  aicpt^ttTTaTri 
H(\fTU)(Ta  (JaSi'ois"  ^  ou  rovr'  tiu  (tti  nf\fr-q  &J'  Tdji/  iincrrrifiwv  fit)  rj  (TO(pia.  Tin'  iu';in-st 
bafdrov  ;  <'!•  Cicero  Tiisr  (luasi.  i.  ;»;  Mac-  approach  to  a  deliuition  of  I'liilosopliy  in  the 
robins,  In  Som.  Scijnonis.  i.  13:  Dainascenns,  jii„„j,^,j,,i„  jg  ,„  a  mhior,  c.  1.  OpSfws  8'  ^x*. 
DiaUrtUa,  c.  3.  -  Ed.  ^^j  ^^  ^a}.f7(rSiai  t^i>  <pt\o(ro<piav  4vi(Triinr)y 

I   Thrrrtetiis,  ft.  \7Cy:  Sib  Kai   iTfipaffiiai  XPV  Tqi  aKrjdtias. — Ed. 

tVt5fV5f  dKf'iat  (pfiryfiv  oTi  TaxiffTa'  <)iry/;  6  Sec  ante,  p.  45. —  Ed. 

St  dfxoiwat^  id^fo!  Kara  rb  7>vi'aT6i'.  —  Ed.  7  Anon,  npiid  Cnimer.  Anecdoia,  iv.  p.  318; 

.".  Tlie  aiKinynmiis  coninientfltor  quotes  this  Brinulis,  Srhnlin,  p.  7.  —  Ed. 

as  a  itiis.sa^i'  from  the   Mtnphysits.     It  does  a  So  ijitoled  h_v  the  commentator:   hut  the 

not  occur  literally,  but  the  .sen.-;e  is  substan-  pa.ssage  occurs  in  the  P/irr'/o.  p.  61.     Kal   i^jioi 

tially  that  expres-sed  in  Book  i.  c  2.    A»fpi-  ovrw  t5  ivinrvwv  Sirtp  (irpaTTOv,  tovto  iiri- 

/SfVraTai  S*  twv  iiri(TT-r)fio!V  ot  /uaAitrra  riav  KfKtvfw,    u.ov(Tikt]V   iroitTv,    is   ^i\offO<pia% 

■KudiTwv   fla'iv  .   .   .  'AWa.  jutjv   koI   SiSacr-  ntv  odcrrii  myiaTris  ixovaiKris.  —  Ed. 


38  MKTAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  IIL 

What,  then,  is  philosopliu-al  knowledge,  and  how  is  it  discriminated 

fioni  knowledge  in  general  ?  We  are  endowed 
Philosophical  and       ^^,  ^^^^,  Creator  with  certain  faculties  of  observa- 

empirical  knowledge. 

tion,  Avhich  enable  us  to  become  aware  of  cer, 
tain  appearances  or  phsenomena.  These  faculties  may  be  stated, 
as  two,  —  Sense,  or  External  Perception,  and  Self-Consciousness 
or  Internal  Perce])tion ;  and  these  faculties  severally  afford  us  the 
knowledge  of  a  different  series  of  phfenomena.  Through  our 
senses,  we  apprehend  what  exists,  or  what  occurs,  in  the  external 
or  material  Avorld ;  by  our  self-consciousness,^  we  apjjiehend  what 
is,  or  what  occurs,  in  the  internal  world,  or  world  of  thought. 
What  is  the  extent,  and  what  the  certainty,  of  the  knowledge 
acquired  through  sense  and  self-consciousness,  we  do  not  at  present 
consider.  It  is  now  sufficient  that  the  simple  fact  be  admitted,  that 
we  do  actually  thus  know;  and  that  fact  is  so  manifest,  that  it 
requires,  I  presume,  at  my  hands,  neither  jiroof  nor  illustration. 
The  information  which  we  thus  receive, —  that  certain  j)h8eiiomena 

are,  or  have  been,  is  called  Historical,  or  Empir- 
mpinca     now  -       j^,^^j;  i^j^Q^yq^jore.^     It  is  called  historical,  because, 

edge — wliat.  _  _  ■  ' 

in  this  knowledge,  Ave  know  only  the  fact,  only 
that  the  phjenomenon  is ;  for  history  is  pro})erly  only  the  narration 
of  a  I'onsecutive  series  of  phaenomena  in  time,  or  the  description  of 
a  coexistent  series  of  pha^nomena  in  sj)ace.  Civil  histoiy  is  an  ex- 
ample of  the  one;  natural  history,  of  the  other.  It  is  called  em])ir- 
ical  or  experiential,  if  we  might  use  that  term,  l)ecause  it  is  given 
us  by  experience  or  observation,  and  not  obtained  as  the  result  of 

inference  or  reasoning.  I  may  notice,  by  paren- 
\ -meaning  o    t  le       ^^j^esis,  that  vou  luust  discharge  from  your  minds 

term  empirical.  *^_  _  .  . 

the  by-meaning  accidentally  associated  with  the 
word  empiric  or  empirical,  in  common  English.  This  term  is  with 
us  more  familiarly  used  in  reference  to  me*licine,  and  from  its  fortu- 
itous employment  in  that  science,  in  a  certain  sense,  the  word  empir- 
ical has  unfortunately  acquired,  in  our  language,  a  one-sided  and  an 
unfavorable  meaning.  Of  the  origin  of  this  meaning  many  of  you 
may  not  be  aAvare.  You  are  aware,  however,  that  c/xTrctpia  is  the 
Greek  temi  for  experience,  and  e/xTrcipiKos  an  ej)ithet  ap})lied  to  one 
who  uses  experience.  Now,  among  the  Greek  physicians,  there  arose 
a  sect  who,  professing  to  employ  experience  alone  to  the  exclusion 
of  generalization,  analogy,  and  reasoning,  denominated  themselves 
distinctively  ot  e/ATrei/HKot  —  the  Empirics,  fl^he  oj)})osite  extreme  Avas 
adopted  by  another  sect,  Avho,  rejecting  observation,  founded  their 

1  On  the  place  and  sphere  of  Consciousness,  2  Brandi-s,  Gesihichtf  iter  Phi hsophie,  vol.  i 

see  Discicssions,  p.  47-  —  V.v 


LkCT.  III.  MKTA  PHYSICS.  CO 

docti-ine  exclusively  on  re.n.soning  and  tliec^iy;  —  and  these  called 
themselves  al  fieSoSiKOL  —  or  Methodists.  A  third  school,  of  wJioni 
Oalen  \vas  the  head,  oj^tosed  equally  to  the  two  extreme  sects  of 
the  Empirics  and  of  ihe  Methodists,  and,  availing  theuiselves  both 
of  exj)erieiice  and  reasoning,  were  styled  ot  Soy/xartKot  —  the  Dog- 
matists, or  rational  ])hysicians.'  A  keen  controversy  arose;  the 
Empirics  were  defeate<l ;  they  gradually  died  out;  and  th.eir  doc- 
trine, of  whicli  nothing  is  known  to  us,  exce])t  through  the  writino-s 
of  tl'.eir  adversaries,-  has  proljahly  been  painted  in  blacker  colors 
than  it  deserved,  liv  this,  however,  as  it  may,  the  word  was  first 
naturalized  in  English,  at  a  time  Avhen  the  Galenic  works  Avere  of 
paramount  authority  in  medicine,  as  a  term  of  medical  import — 
of  medical  re])roach  ;  and  the  collateral  meaning,  Avhich  it  had  acci- 
dentally obtained  in  that  science,  was  associated  with  an  unfavor- 
able signification,  so  that  an  Emjiiric,  in  common  English,  has  been 
long  a  synonyju  for  a  chai-lat.an  or  quack-<loctor,  and,  by  a  very 
natural  extension,  in  genei-al,  for  any  ignorant  jiretender  in  science. 
In  j)hiIosoj)hical  language,  tlu'  term  ernjnrical  means  vsimply  what 
belongs  to,  oi-  is  the  j>i-oduct  of,  experience  or  observation,  and,  in 
(•(jutrast  to  another  ti'rni  afterwards  to  be  explained,  is  now  tech- 
nically in  general  use  throuiih  every  other  country  of  Europe. 
AVere  tliere  any  other  word  to  be  found  of  a  corres])ondnig  signifi- 
cation in  English,  it  wotdd  perhaps,  in  consequence  of  the  by-mean- 
ing attached  to  empirical,  be  ex])edient  not  to  em])loy  this  latter. 
But  there  is  not.  K.vper'u'ntial  is  not  in  common  use,  and  experi~ 
mental  only  designates  a  certain  kind  of  cxperienci'  —  viz.  that  in 
■wliich  tlie  fu-t  obseived  has  l)een  brought  about  l)y  a  certain  inten- 
tit>nal  preiirrangement  of  its  coefficients.     I>ut  this  by  the  way. 

Ketni'iiing,  then,  from  our  digression  :  Historical  or  emjtirical 
kn()wledge  is  simpl}'  the  knowledge  that  something  is.  Were  we 
to  use  the  exjiression,  the  kiioirledf/f-  t/uit^  it  would  sound  awkward 
and  unusual  in  our  modern  languages.  In  Greek,  the  most  ])liilo- 
sophical  of  all  tongues,  its  parallel,  however,  A\as  familiarly  em- 
ployed, more  es])ecially  in  the  Aristotelic  ))hilos()])hy,''  in  contrast 
to  another  knowledge  of  which  we  are  about  to  speak.  It  was 
cahcd  the  to  ot(,  that  is,  »;  yroJo-i?  ort  errrir.^     I    sliouM   notice,  that 

1  See  Galfii.  De  Striix,  c.  1.  and  the  Ihfini-  taa  rhf  apidfibv   ofTairep  ^Trimdufda.      Ztj- 

tioms  Mff/im-  and  Inumliiriio  uii  M>-,liruf,  as-  Tovfjifv  5e  Tfrrapa,  rh  on,  rh  Sioti,  ti  tan, 

cribed  to   tlip  sanio  author;   Cclsus.   De  Re  rl  iffTw.     Tliesu  wurc  di.Uiiiguislii-d  by  tlie 

Mf.hm^l'rmi.;  Dan.  Lc  (lore.   Hhtohe  rir  la  i^njjp  losicians  ns  the  ^i^Uionrs  unbiUs  and 

Mc,/ern,e,  part  ii.,  lib.  ii  ,  ch.   1  -  lib    iv  .  ch.  „.,.,^.  ,„„„„,.  ^....u.^^^a  quoJ  fit,  n.r  ,i,,  an  s,l, 

a  Le  ("lore,  m^mirr  de  la  Mc'Ifrhr.  part  ii..  <  Tliis  cxpresfion  i:i  Latin,  at  U-a.<t  In  Latin 

Jib.  11..  en.  1.       Kp.  „f,f  ab.>!oluti'ly  barbarous,  ean  only  bo  tran>- 

3  See  Aniil.  Post.  ii.  1      Ta  {^■qrovutvd  icrriv       lated  va-jiioly  by  au  accu.<ative  and  au  lulliii 


40  M  E  T  A  1'  Ji  Y  S I C  S  .  Lkct.   111. 

with  us,  the  knoicledge  that.,  is  commonly  called  the  knowledge  of 
the  fact}      As  examples  of  emj)irical    knowlerlge,  take   the  facts,, 
whether  known  on  our  own  ex|)erience  or  on  the  testificcl  experi- 
ence of  others,  —  that  a  stone  falls,  —  that  smoke  ascends,  —  that 
the  leaves  bud  in  spring  and  fall  in  autumn,  —  that  such  a  book 
contains   such   a  passage,  —  that  such  a  i)assage  contains  such  an 
o])iuion,  —  that  Caesar,  that  Charlemagne,  that  Napoleon,  existed.^ 
But  things  do  not  exist,  events  do  not  occur,  isolated,  —  apart  — 
by  themselves,  —  they  exist,  they  occur,  and  are 
Philosophical  knowi-       ,      ^^^  conceived,  only  in  connection.   Our  obser- 

edge  —  what.  .  v.      t 

vation  aiiords  us  no  examjile  of  a  phtenomenon 
which  is  not  an  effect ;  nay,  our  thought  cannot  even  realize  to  itself 
the  possibility  of  a  phaenomenon  without  a  cause.  We  do  not  at 
present  inquire  into  the  nature  of  the  connection  of  effect  and 
cause,"^  —  either  in  reality,  or  in  thought.  It  is  sufficient  for  our 
present  purpose  to  observe  that,  while,  by  the  constitution  of  our 
nature,  we  ai*e  unable  to  conceive  anything  to  begin  to  be,  without 
referring  it  to  some  cause,  —  still  the  knowledge  of  its  particulai* 
cause  is  not  involved  in  the  knowledge  of  any  particular  effect.  By 
this  necessity  which  we  are  under  of  thinking  some  cause  for  every 
phaenomenon  ;  and  by  our  original  ignorance  of  what  ])articular 
causes  belong  to  what  particular  effects, — it  is  rendered  impossible 
for  us  to  acquiesce  in  the  mere  knowledge  of  the  fact  of  a  ])haenom- 
enon:  on  the  contrary,  we  are  determhied,  —  we  are  necessitated, 
to  regard  each  phaenomenon  as  only  partially  known,  until  Me  dis- 
cover the  causes  on  which  it  depends  for  its  existence.  For  exam- 
ple, we  are  struck  Avith  the  appearance  in  the  heavens  called  a 
rainbow.  Think  we  cannot  that  this  phaenomenon  has  no  cause, 
though  we  may  be  wholly  ignorant  of  w  hat  that  cause  is.  Xowj 
our  knowledge  of  the  phaenomenon  as  a  mere  fact,  —  as  a  mere 
isolated  event,  —  does  not  content  us';  we  thereibre  set  about  an 
inquiry  into  the  cause,  —  which  the  constitution  of  our  mind  com- 


tive,  for  jou  are  probably  aware  that  tlie  noting  a  knowledge  of  the  Stj.     (Coniparfr 

conjunctive  quorl^  by  which  the  Greek  on  is  the  De  Inrtssu  Animalium,  c.  1;  Metapk.  i.  1.) 

often  translated,  has  always  a  caK.sa/  signiti-  Aristotle,  tlierefore,  culls  Iiis  empiricul  work 

cation  in  genuine  Latinity.    Thus,  we  cannot  on  animals,  Ilislunj  of  Aniinals ;  —  'I'heophras- 

say,  scio  quod  res  sit,  credo  quod  tu  sis  doclus :  —  tus,  his  empirical  work  on  plants.  History  of 

this  is  barbarous.     We  must  say,  scio  rem  esse.  Plants ;  —  I'liny,  his  t-nipiiical  book  on  nature 

credo  te  e^se  dortvm.  in  general,  Natural  History.    I'liny  says  :  '•  no- 

1  [Empirical  is  also  used  in  contra.st  with  bis  propositum   e»t  nntiirns   rcrum   indicare 

Necessary  knowledge;  the  former  signifying  manifestas.  itoii  caiisas  iudagare  rf«6/as.''    See 

the  knowledge  simply  Of  what  is,  the  Istter  Brandis,  Geschichte  der  Philosop/iir,  i.  p.  2. 

of  wh-At  muM  he.]  —  Oral  Interpolation.  g  g^g   „„  ^]^is  poi,,^  ^i^^.  Author's  Discu* 

•'The   term.s  historical  and  empirical  are       ^lons.  v.  WJ. Kl). 

vised  as  synonymous  by  Aristotle,  as  both  de- 


Lkct.  III.  METAPHYSICS.  41 

pels  us  to  suppose, —  and  at  length  discover  that  the  rainbow  is  the 
effect  of  the  refraction  of  the  solar  rays  by  the  watery  particles  of  a 
cloud.  Having  ascertained  the  cause,  but  not  till  tlieii,  we  are 
satisfied  that  we  fully  know  the  effect. 

Now,  this  knowledge  of  the  cause  of  a  pha-nonicnon  is  differ- 
ent from,  is  something  more  than,  the  knowledge  of  that  pha^nom- 
enon  simply  as  a  fact;  and  these  two  cognitions  or  knowledges^ 
have,  accordingly,  received  different  names.  The  latter,  Ave  have  ^ 
seen,  is  called  historical,  or  empirical  knowledge ;  the  former  ir*  v" 
called  pJiilosophical,  or  scientific^  or  rational  knowledge.-  Historical, 
is  the  knowledge  that  a  thing  is  —  ])hil()soi)hical,  is  the  knowledge 
why  or  how  it  is.  And  as  the  Greek  language,  Avith  i»eeuliar  felicity, 
expresses  historical  knowledge  by  the  on  —  the  yvaicrts  otl  icm:  so, 
it  well  ex})resses  philosophical  knowledge  by  the  hiori^  —  the  yvdjo-ts 
SioTi  loTi,  though  here  its  relative  superiority  is  not  the  same.  To 
recapitulate  Avhat  has  noAV  been  stated  :  —  There  are  tAvo  kinds  or 
degrees  of  knoA\dedge.  The  first  is  the  knoAvledge  that  a  thing  is  — 
OTL -^prifxa  l(TTi,  rem  esse;  —  and  it  is  called  the  knoAvledge  of  the  tact, 
historical,  or  empirical  knowledge.  The  second  is  the  knoAvledge 
why  or  how  a  thing  is,  SioVi  xPVf^"^  (.cttl,  mr  res  sit  ;  —  and  is  termed 
the  knoAvledge  of  the  cause,  philosophical,  scientific,  rational  knowl- 
tdge. 

Philoso])hical  knoAvledge,  in  the  Avidest  acceptation  of  the  term, 

and  as   SA'nonvmous  with  science,   is   thus    the 

piiiiosopi.y    implies       knoAvlcdgc  of    cffccts   as    dependent   on    their 

a    search     al'ti-r    first  "-v-r  i     ^     i  ^i  •       •         i     o       t       ii  « 

causes,     ^oav,  Avhat  does  tins  nn])ly  .•'     In  tlie 

causes.  '  '  _' 

first  place,  as  every  cause  to  Avhich  Ave  can 
ascend  is  itself  also  an  effect,  —  it  follows  that  it  is  the  scope,  that 
is,  the  aim  of  philosophy,  to  trace  up  the  series  of  effects  and  causes, 
until  Ave  arrive  at  causes  Avhich  aie  not  also  themselves  effects. 
These  first  causes  do  not  in<lee(l  lie  witliin  the  reach  of  philosophy, 
nor  even  Avithin  the  spliere  of  our  comitrehension ;  nor,  conse- 
quently, on  the  actual  reaching  tliem  does  the  existence  of  jthiloso- 
phy  depend.  But  as  i)liiloso]>hy  is  the  knoAvledge  of  effects  in  their 
causes,  the  tendency  of  ]»hiloso]ihy  is  ever  uj^Avards;  and  philosophy 
can,  in  thought,  in  theory,  only  be  viewed  as  accomplishe<I, —  which 
in  reality  it  never  can  be,  —  Avhen  the  ultimate  causes,  —  the  causes 

1   KnoioUi/^es  is  ii  t.iiii  in  frequent  use  l>y  and  Sirpeanfs  Method  to  Scientf,  I'reface.  p 

Bacon,  and  flioii^ili  now  obsolete,  sliould  ln'  2;">.  p.  lilti  cf /;o<«ih/.  —  En. 

revived,  as,  without  it,  we  are  compelled  to  •_'  Wolf,  Philosn/Ma  Hatioiialif,  j  6;   Kant, 

borrow  cogrJiioiis  to  express  its  import.]—  Kriiik  tier  ^i Jen  V>riitin/l,  Methodeulehre,  c 

Oral  Inliriioliiiion.     [See  Bacon's  A'lvnnr.  merit  3.  —  Ed. 

of  Ltaniitig,  p.  170,  (  Wurks.  vol.  ii.,  ed.  Mout.);  •"  Arist.  Annl.  Post.  ii.  1.  -  Ed. 


42  mi:t  A  PHYSICS.  Lect.  IIL 

on  which  all  other  causes  depend,  —  have  been  attained  and  under- 
stood.^ 

But,  in  the  second  jjlace,  as  every  eifect  is  only  produced  hy  the 
concurrence  of  at  least  two  causes,  (and  by  cause,  be  it  observed, 
I  mean  everything  without  which  the  effect  could  not  be  realized), 
and  as  these  concurring  or  coefficient  causes,  in  fact,  constitute  the 
effect,  it  follows,  that  the  lower  we  descend  in  the  series  of  causes, 
the  more  conii>lex  will  be  the  jjroduct;  and  that  the  higher  we 
ascend,  it  will  be  the  more  simple.  Let  us  take,  for  example,  a 
neutral  salt.  This,  as  you  probably  know,  is  the  product  —  the 
combination  of  an  alkali  and  an  acid.  Now,  considering  the  salt 
as  an  effect,  what  are  the  concurrent  causes,  —  the  co-efficients,  — 
which  constitute  it  what  it  is '?  These  are,  Jirst^  the  acid,  with  its 
affinity  to  the  alkali;  secondly^  the  alkali,  M'ith  its  affinity  to  the 
acid;  and  thirdly,  the  translating  force  (perhaps  the  human  liand) 
Avhich  made  their  affinities  available,  by  bringing  the  two  bodies 
Avithin  the  s]>here  of  mutual  attraction.  Each  of  these  three  con- 
currents must  be  considered  as  a  partial  cause ;  for,  abstract  any 
one,  and  the  effect  is  not  produced.  Now,  these  three  j)artial 
•causes  are  each  of  them  again  effects;  but  effects  evidently  less 
com])lex  than  the  effect  Aviiich  they,  by  their  concurrence,  consti- 
tuted. But  each  of  these  three  constituents  is  an  effect;  and  there- 
fore to  be  analyzed  into  its  causes ;  and.  these  causes  again  into 
others,  until  the  ])rocedure  is  checked  by  our  inability  to  resolve 
the  last  constituent  into  simj^ler  elements.  But,  though  thus  unable 
to  caiTy  our  analysis  beyond  a  limited  extent,  we  neither  conceive, 
nor  are  we  able  to  conceive,  the  constituent  in  which  our  anal- 
ysis is  aiTCsted,  as  itself  anything  but  an  effect.  We  therefore 
carry  on  the  analysis  in  imagination  ;  and  as  each  step  in  the  pro- 
cedure carries  us  from  the  more  com|)lex  to  the  more  simple,  and, 
consequently,  nearer  to  unity,  we  at  last  arrive  at  that  unity  itself, 
—  at  that  ultimate  cause  Avhich,  as  ixltimate,  cannot  again  be  con- 
ceived as  an  effect." 

Philosophy  thus,  as  the  knowledge  of  effects  in  their  causes,  nec- 
essarily tends,  not  towards  a  plurality  of  ultimate  or  first  causes, 
but  towards  one  alone.     This  first  cause,  —  the  Creator,  —  it  can 

1  Arist.  ^naZ.  Posr.  i.  24.  "En  ^e'xpi  toutou  forent  relations.  What  is  called  the  ultimate 
fTjToCjuej/  rb  hia  ti,  /col  rdre  olofx^a  (ISfvai,  cause  in  ascending  from  effects  to  causes,— 
orav  f^n  ^  on  tj  &\\o  rodro  i)  yivAfifvov  ^  *''»*  ''"•  "'  *he  rcfrressive  order,  is  called  the 
of  TfAo's  yap  koI  irepai  rh  iaxarov  i^Srj  ^^^^  '='>"*'''  '^  descending  from  causes'  to  ef- 
ovTws  iariv.  C{.  Mftaph.i.2:  Su  yap  rav-  fects.— that  is,  in  the  progres.sive  order. 
_  ~  /  •  -  >  '  '  7  This  synonymous  mcanins  of  the  terms  ulti- 
^faip-rrriHriv  —  Ed  "^'**'-'  ""^  Primary  it  is  important  to  recollect, 

2  I  may  notice  that  an  ultimate  cause,  and  ^"\  *'""'<^  ''"°'''''  "'*'  '"  '"'>'  common  us.  in 
«  first  cause,  are  the  same,  but  viewed  in  dif-  P'"'osophy. 


l.KCT.  III.  -METAPHYSICS.  43 

indeed  never  reach,  as  an  object  of  immediate  knowledge  ;  but,  as 

the  convergence  towards  iinity  in  the  ascending 
I'hiiosophy   neces-       ^^^^^^  j^  manifest,  in  so  far  as  that  series  is  within 

sarily    tends    towards 

a  first  cause.  '^"1'  ^'^^^^'i  ^^^^  ^s  it  is.  even  impossible  for  the 

mind  to  sni)j)ose  the  conA'ergencc  not  continuous 
and  complete,  it  follows,  —  uidess  all  analogy  be  rejected,  —  unless 
our  intelligence  be  declared  a  lie,  —  that  we  must,  ])hilosophically 
believe  in  that  ultimate  or  primary  unity  which,  in  our  23i'esent 
existence,  we  are  not  destined  in  itself  to  apprehend. 

Such  is  philosophical  knowledge  in  its  most  extensive  signifi- 
cation ;  and,  in  this  signification,  all  the  sciences,  occupied  in  the 
]-esearch  of  causes,  may  be  viewed  as  so  many  branches  of  phil- 
osophy. 

There  is,  however,  one  section  of  these  sciences  Avhich  is  denom- 
inated philosophical  by  preeminence ;  —  sciences, 

.Sciences     denorai-       ^^.j,i^.|j  ^|,p  ^^^.j^^  philosophy  exclu.sively  denotes, 

iiated  philosophical  by  ^  -,    •  ■  t     .      *  -n^, 

pro^minence.  ^^'^1^'"  employed  lu  propriety  and  rigor.     ^A  liat 

these  sciences  are,  and  why  the  term  ])hilosoi)hy 

has  been  specially  limited  to  them,  T  shall  now  en<l('avor  to  make 

vou  understand. 

"Man,"  says  Protagoras,  "is  the  measure  of  the  universe;  "^  and, 
in  so  far  as  the  universe  is  an  object  of  human 

Man's     knowledee         ■,  •,     -,  .■,  i  .  .       ,i         ttr-, 

,  ..  knowledge,  the  paradox  is  a  truth.      \\  hatever 

relative.  -    '  ' 

Ave   knoAA",   or   endeavor  to   knoAv,    (iod   or    the 

world, —  mind  or  matter,  —  the  distant  or  the  near,  —  Ave  knoAV, 
and  can  knoAV,  only  in  so  far  as  Ave  possess  a  faculty  of  knoAving  in 
giiicral ;  and  Ave  can  only  exercise  that  faculty  under  the  hnvs 
Avhich  control  and  limit  its  operations.  IIoAvover  great,  and  infi- 
nite, and  various,  therefore,  may  be  the  universe  and  its  contents, — 
these  are  knoAvn  to  us,  not  as  tliey  exist,  but  as  our  mind  is  cajiable 
of  knctwing  them.  Hence  the  brocard  — "  Quicquid  recipitur,  reci])- 
itiii-  ad  nutdum  recipientis." - 

In  the  first  place,  tlierefore,  as  philosopliy  is  a 

'J'lu  prinnirv  problem  ,  ,t  i  ,,    ,  ii-  i* 

,  , .,        •  kiiowledue,  and  as  all  knoAvledsre  is  onh'  pos- 

Slide  under  the  conditions  to  Avhich  our  faculties 

are  sulijectcd,  —  the  grand.  —  the  ]>rimary  jjroblcin   of  philosophv 

I  See  riato.   Tlifiriftiis,  p.  1.52:   Arist.   Mr-  tis  rocipitur  in  pnticntcm  ficrinulnm  niodum 

tnpli.  x.(\.  —  Rd.  luitii'iilis.     /ij^/.  part  i.  <.>.  14,  art.  1.     .'^ciontin 

•-'  Hopfliius.    De   Consol.    Phil.  v.    I'rosa    iv.  est  ."iceiindiiin  nuxluni  copnosconti.x.     Scitnni 

Onineonini  ()Uod  cojrn<).>icifnr.  non  fccnniiiini  enini  est  in  scieute secundum  modnm  scientis. 

8ui  vim,  sed  .secundeni  a^noscoiitiiim  i)otius  Cliauvin  gives  the  words  of  the  text.     Se* 

comprehenditur  facultatem.    Proclus  in  P/fi/.  Lexicon  PhiloanpUicum,  ttri.  Finiias.     See  also 

Piir<n.  p.  741^.  <d.  Stallbaum  .  rh  yiyvwrrKov  other  authorities  to  the  same  efTect  quoted  1b 

Kara  T7]v  iavTov  yi-vv(tiffKfi  (pixriv.    .\i|Uinns,  the  Author's  /)Mri;««(rm<,  p.  644.  —  Vji. 
JSumma,  par!  i   t^.  79,  art  .S    Similitudo  apen- 


44  METAPHYSICS.  '  Lkct.  Ill 

must  be  to  invcstiiiate  and  determine  these  conditions,  as  the  neces- 
sary  conditions  of  its  own  possibility. 

In  the  second  phice,  as  philosophy  is  not  merely  a  knowledge,  but 
a  knowledge  of  causes,  and  as  the  mind  itself  is 

The  study  of  mind       ^j^^  universal  and  principal  concurrent  cause  in 

the  philosophical  study.  \ 

every  act  ot  knowledge ;  philosophy  is,  conse- 
quently, bound  to  make  the  mind  its  first  and  paramount  object  of 
consideration.  The  study  of  mind  is  thus  the  philosophical  study 
by  jtrecininence.  There  is  no  branch  of  philosophy  which  does  not 
supjiose  this  as  its  preliminary,  which  does  not  borrow  from  this  its 

light.     A  considerable  number,  indeed,  are  only 

Branches   of    this       ^j^^  science  of  mind  viewed  in  particular  aspects,, 

or   considered   in    certain    special   applications. 

Logic,  for  example,  or  the  science  of  the  laws  of  thought,  is  only  a 

fragment  of  the  general  science  of  mind,  and 
*'^'  "  presupposes  a  certain  knowledge  of  the  opera- 

tions which   are  regulated  by  these  laws.     Ethics  is  the  science  of 

the  hiws  which   govern    our   actions  as  moral 
agents  ;  and  a  knowledge  of  these  laws  is  only 
possible  through  a  knowledge  of  the  moral  agent  himself     Politi- 
cal science,  in  like  manner,  supposes  a  knowl- 

Politics.  -,  n  •       1   •  1  •  •  •  1 

edge  oi  man  in  his  natural  constitution,  m  order 
to  appreciate  the  modifications  which  he  receives,  and  of  which  he 
is  susceptible,  in  social  and  civil  life.     The  Fine  Arts  have  all  their 

foundation  in  the  theory  of  the  beautiful ;  and 

The  Fine  Arts.  ,.i  '         rr-      -i     -,    ^         ^  n     -i  im 

this  theory  is  an:orded  by  that  ]>art  ot  the  phil- 
osophy of  mind,  which  is  conversant  with  the  phaenomena  of  feel- 
ing.    Religion,  Theology,  in  fine,  is  not  independent  of  the  same 

philosophy.  For  as  God  only  exists  for  us  a» 
Theology  dependent       ^^^^  ^^^^.^  faculties  capable  of  apprehending  his 

on  study  of  mind.  *(.  ^   ir-ii-  i-      i     i        . 

existence,  and  ot  lulnlhng  his  behests,  nay,  as 
the  -phenomena  from  Avhich  we  are  warranted  to  infer  his  being  are 
wholly  mental,  the  examination  of  these  faculties  and  of  these  phae- 
nomena  is,  consequently,  the  jtrimary  condition  of  every  sound 
theology.  In  short,  the  science  of  mind,  whether  considered  in 
itself,  or  in  relation  to  the  other  branches  of  our  knowledge,  consti- 
tutes the  principal  and  most  imjiortant  object  of  philosoj^hy,  —  con- 
stitutes in  ])ropriety,  with  its  suit  of  dependent  sciences,  philosojihy 
itself.' 

The  limitation  of  the  term  Philosophy^  to  the  sciences  of  mind, 

1  Cf.  Cousin,  Cotirs  de  V  HLstoire  de  la  Phil.  Mod  ,  Prem.  Ser.  torn,  ii.;  Programme  de  la 
Premiere  Partie  du  Cours.  —  Ed. 


J.KCT.  Ill,  METAPHYSICS.  45 

when  not  expressly  extended  to  the  otlier  branches  of  science,  has 
been  always  that  generally  prevalent ;  —  yet  it  must  be  confessed 

that,  in  this  country,  the  word  is  applied  to  sub- 
Misapplication    of       y.^.^^  ^^-itij  ^vhich,  on  the  continent  of  Euroi)e,  it 

the   term    Philosophy         .  i       •,.  •         i        ttt-  i  t  t 

in   this  country  ^^  rarely,  II  ever,  associated.     With  us  the  word 

philosophy,  taken  by  itself,  does  not  call  up  the 
precise  and  limited  notion  Mhich  it  does  to  a  German,  a  Hol- 
lander, a  Dane,  an  Italian,  or  a  Fivnchman ;  and  we  are  obliireA 
to  say  the  philosophy  of  mind,  if  Ave  do  not  wish  it  to  be  A'agnely 
extended  to  the  sciences  conversant  with  the  pha3nomena  of  mat- 
ter. We  not  only  call  Physics  by  the  name  of  Natural  l^hiloso- 
Yihy,  but  every  mechanical  process  has  with  us  its  })hilosophy.  ^Ve 
have  books  on  the  i)hilosophy  of  ^Manufactures,  the  i)hilos()phy  of 
Agriculture,  the  i)hilosophy  of  Cookery,  etc.  In  all  this  avc  are  tlie 
ndicule  of  other  nations.  Socrates,  it  is  said,  brought  doM'ii  philos- 
ophy from  the  clouds,  —  the  English  have  degraded  her  to  the 
kitchen  ;  and  this,  our  prostitution  of  the  term,  is,  by  foreigners, 
alleged  as  a  significant  indication  of  the  low  state  of  the  mental 
sciences  in  Britain.' 

From  what  has  been  said,  you  Avill,  without  a  definition,  be 
able  to  form  at  least  a  general  notion  of  what  is  meant  by  philos- 
ophy. In  its  more  extensive  signification,  it  is  equivalent  to  a 
knowledge  of  things  by  their  causes,  —  and  this  is,  in  fact,  Aris- 
totle's definition ; '  while,  in  its  stricter  meaning,  it  is  confined  to 
the  sciences  which  constitute,  or  hold  immediately  of,  the  science 
of  mind. 

1  See  Hegel,  Werke,  vi.  13;  .xiii.  72;  Scheid-  vTroKati^duovffi  Tramts  .  .  .  on  /uer  oZv  r\ 
\vT,Encydop.tler  Pliilnsnphi,,\.\i.2',.  —  ¥.T>.  croOia   irtpl    rivas    cuTtas    Kol    apxds    iffrm 

2  Metap/i.  V.  1:  irucra  (iTi(TT-t]^ii)  SiavorjriKri  f-niffTrtixr\,  StjAo*".  Eth.  Nic.  vi.  7:  St?  &pa 
irtpl  aiTias  koI  it.pxds  iariv  ^  a.Kpi^((TT(pas  rhi/  <To<phi'  /x)}  fnovov  to.  iK  Twir  apx^''  «'5- 
fl  air\ov(TTfpas.  I.  1  :  ttji/  li-opLa^ojjiivriv  ivai,  i.K\a  kcH  Vfpl  tcls  o.px^^  &\r)^fv(ii'. 
<jo<piav  irtpl  TO,  vpwTa  oI'Tia  nal  toj  apx^s  ~  ^^- 


LECTURE    IV. 

THE    CAUSES    OF    PHILOSOPHY. 

Having  thus  endeavored  to  make  }^ou  vaguely  apprehend  what 

cannot  be   precisely  understood, — the  Nature 

The  causes  of  phii-       ^^^    Comprehension    of  Philosophy,  —  I    now 

osoi  liy  in  the  elements  ,  ,  .  -tir'i  i 

of  our  constitution.  proceed  to  another  (luestion,  —  What  are  the 

Causes  of  Philosophy '?  The  causes  of  philoso- 
2)hy  lie  in  the  original  elements  of  our  constitution.  We  are 
created  with  the  faculty  of  knowledge,  and,  consequently,  created 
with  the  tendency  to  exert  it.  Man  philosophizes  as  he  lives.  He 
may  philosophize  well  or  ill,  but  philosophize  he  must.  Philosophy 
can,  indeed,  only  be  assailed  through  philosophy  itself  "  If,"  says 
Aristotle,  in  a  passage  preserved  to  us  by  Olympiodorus,^  "we  must 
philosophize,  we  must  philosophize  ;  if  we  must  not  philosophize,  we 
must  philosophize;  —  in  any  case,  therefore,  we  must  philosophize." 
"Were  philosophy,"  says  Clement  of  Alexandria,^  "an  evil,  still 
philosophy  is  to  be  studied,  in  order  that  it  may  be  scientifically 
contemned."  And  Averroes,'^  —  "Pliilosophi  solum  est  si^ernere  phil- 
osophiam."  Of  the  causes  of  philosophy  some  are,  therefore,  con- 
tained in  man's  very  capacity  for  knowledge  ; 
Tiiese  causes  either       these   are  essential  and  necessarv.     But  there 

essential    or    comple-  .  ,.,,..         '        .       „     .. 

mentary.  ^^'^  Others,  agam,  wliich  Jie  m  certain  leehngs 

with  which  he  is  endowed  ;  these  are  comple- 
mentary  and  assistant. 

Of  the  former  class,  —  that  is,  of  the  essential  causes,  —  there  are 

in    all   two :  the  one  is,  the   necessity  we  feel 

nie  fir^t  class  appa-       ^^  connect  Causes  with  Effects;   the  other,  to 

rently  two-fold.  .  xr    •  rrn 

carry  up   our  knowledge  into  Unity.      These 
tendencies,  however,  if  not  identical   in   their  origin,  coincide  in 

1  Ofympiorfori  in  Plntonis  A/rihIafIrm  Priorem  o  £,'  ,fnJ  &xpr)(TTOS  e'lT)  <pi\o(To<pia,  ej  evx' 

Commentarii,  ed.  Creuzer.  p.  144.     Kal  Apitr-  prjo-Tos  f]  rfjs  axp^ffrias  0f$a'iai(fis,  eSxpv^- 

TOTsArjj    eV    r<^    TipoTpeiniKcc    fAtyev    on  ^os.      Stromala.  i.2.  —  Ed. 

«Jt€   <pi\o(TO(l>T\T(ov,   <pt\o(TO(pr]r€ov'  fire  firi  3  See  Dismsxions,  p.  78G.  —  Ed.   ["  Se  mo- 

<pi\o(TO(pT]reoi'.  <ht\o(TO(t>riTfoV  TrdvTcosSe  (!>i\-  qucr  de  la  pliilo.sophie,  c'est  vraiment  phil- 

o(TO(pr)T(ov.     Quoti'd  also  by  the  anonymous  osophcr."     Pascal,   Pensces.  part  i.  art.  xi.  § 

commentator  in  Cramers  Anecdota,  iv.  p.  391.  36.    Compare  Jlontaigne,  Essais,  lib.  ii.  c.  xiL 

—  Ed.  — tom.  ii.  p.  216,  ed.  1725.] 


Lect.  IV.  METAPHYSICS.  47 

their  result ;  for,  as  I  have  previously  explained  to  you,  in  ascend- 
ing from  cause  to  cause,  we  necessarily,  (coukl  we  carry  our  analysis 
to  its  issue,)  arrive  at  absolute  unity.  Indeed,  were  it  not  a  discus- 
sion for  which  you  are  not  as  yet  prepared,  it  might  be  shown,  that 
both  principles  originate  in  the  same  condition;  —  that  both  ema- 
nate, not  from  any  original  power,  but  from  the  same  original  power- 
lessness  of  mind.  ^  Of  the  former,  —  namely,  the 
,.        '^  ii'"^'^''\°  ^      tendency,  or  rather  the  necessity,  which  we  feel  to 

Cause  and  Effect.  •' '  .  . 

connect  the  objects  of  our  experience  with  others 
which  afford  the  reasons  of  their  existence, — it  is  needful  to  say  but 
little.  The  nature  of  this  tendency  is  not  a  matter  on  which  we 
can  at  present  enter ;  and  the  fact  of  its  existence  is  too  notorious 
to  require  either  proof  or  illustration.  It  is  sufficient  to  say,  or 
rather  to  repeat  what  we  have  already  stated,  that  the  inind  is  una- 
ble to  realize  in  thought  the  possibility  of  any  absolute  commence- 
ment: it  cannot  conceive  that  anythinsc  which  be2;ins  to  be  is  anv- 
thing  more  than  a  new  modification  of  preexistent  elements ;  it  is 
unable  to  vieAV  any  individual  thing  as  other  than  a  link  in  the 
mighty  chain  of  being;  and  every  isolated  object  is  viewed  by  it 
only  as  a  fragment  which,  to  be  known,  must  be  known  in  con- 
nection Avith  the  whole  of  which  it  constitutes  a  part.  It  is  thus 
that  we  are  unable  to  rest  satisfied  Avith  a  mere  historical  knowl- 
edge of  existence  ;  and  that  even  our  happiness  is  interested  in  dis- 
coA'ering  causes,  hypothetical  at  least,  if  not  real,  for  the  various 
phenomena  of  the  existence  of  Avhich  our  experience  informs  us. 

"Felix  qui  potiiit  irniiii  cognoscere  causas."  2 

The  second  tendency  of  our  nature,  of  Avhich  j)hilosophy  is  the 
result,  is  the  desire  of  Unitv.     On  this,  Avhich 

2.  The  love  of  Unity.  •      i        1    •  ,  ^i  ^t  -^  •  *      i 

nideed  involves. the  other,  it  is  necessary  to  be 
somcAvhat  more  explicit.  This  tendency  is  one  of  the  most  prom- 
inent characteristics  of  the  human  iiiiiid.  It,  in  p.irt,  originates  in 
the  imbecility  of  our  faculties.  We  are  lost  in  the  multitude  of  the 
objects  presented  to  our  observation,  and  it  is  only  by  assorting 
them  in  da.sses  that  Ave  can  reduce  the  infinity  t)f  nature  to  the  fini- 
tude  of  miml.  The  conscious  Ego,  the  conscious  Self,  by  its  nature 
one,  seems  also  constrained  to  reciuire  that  unity  by  Avhich  it  is  dis- 
tinguished, in  everything  which  it  receives,  and  in  everyth'ing 
which  it  produces.  I  regret  that  I  can  illii.-^trate  this  only  by 
examples  Avhich   cannot,  I   am  aware,  as  yet  be  fully  intelligible 

1  This  is  partially  argued  in  tlic  Discussionf,  p.  609.  —  ED.         2  Virgil,  Gangicf,  ii.  490 


48  M  E  T  A  P  H  V  S  I C  S .  L i:CT.  IV 

^  to  all.  We  are  conscious  of  a  scene  presented  to  our  senses  onlj 
by  uniting  its  parts  into  a  perceived  whole.  Perception  is  thus 
a  unifying  act.  The  Imagination  cannot  repi*esent  an  object  with- 
out uniting,  in  a  single  combination,  the  various  elements  of 
which  it  is  composed.  Generalization  is  only  the  apprehension 
of  the  one  in  tlie  many,  and  language  little  else  than  a  registry 
of  the  factitious  unities  of  thought.  The  Judgment  cannot  affirm 
or  deny  one  notion  of  another,  except  by  uniting  the  two  in  one 
indivisible  act  of  comparison.  Syllogism  is  simply  the  union  of 
two  judgments  in  a  third.  Reason,  Intellect,  voGs,  in  fine,  con- 
catenating thoughts  and  objects  into  system,  and  tending  always 
upwards  from  particular  facts  to  general  laws,  from  general  laws  to 
imiversal  principles,  is  never  satisfied  in  its  ascent  till  it  compre- 
hend, (what,  however,  it  can  never  do),  all  laws  in  a  single  formula, 
and  consummate  all  conditional  knowledge  in  the  unity  of  uncon 
ditional  existence.  Xor  is  it  only  in  science  that  the  mind  desider- 
ates the  one.  "We  seek  it  equally  in  Avorks  of  art.  A  work  of  art 
is  only  deserving  of  the  name,  inasmuch  as  an  idea  of  the  work  has 
preceded  its  execution,  and  inasmuch  as  it  is  itself  a  realization  of 
the  ideal  model  in  sensible  forms.  All  languages  express  the  mental 
operations  by  words  Avhich  denote  a  reduction  of  the  many  to  the 
one.  2vve(ns,  ■n-epLXrjij/L's,  crvi/ato-^i^o-ts,  o-weTrtyvwo-t?,  etc.  in  Greek ;  —  in 
Latin,  cohere,  {co-agere)^  cogiUire,  {co-a<jitare)^  concipere^  cognoscere, 
coraprehendere^  conscire^  with  their  derivatives,  may  serve  for  ex- 
amples. 

The  history  of  philosophy  Is  only  the  history  of  this  tendency ; 
and   philosophers   have   amply   testified   to   its 

J'estimouies   to   the  i-,  ,;  rr\\  •     i  »  a  \   ll       ^ 

reality.     "••Ihe  mind,    savs  Anaxaijorns, '  "only 

love   of  unity.  •'  .  .'  .  . 

knows  when  it  subdues  its  objects,  when  it  re- 
duces the  many  to  the  one."  "  All  knowledge,"  say  the  Platonists,- 
"is  the  gathering  up  into  one,*and  the  indivisible  apprehension  of 
this  unity  by  the  knowing  mind."  Leibnitz'^  and  Kant*  have,  in 
like  manner,  defined  knowledge  by  the  representation  of  multitude 
in  unity.     "  The  end  of  j^hilosophy,"  says  Plato, '  "  is  the  intuition 

1  Arist.  De  Anima,  iii  4 :  AuajK-q  &pa,  4n(l  Thus  rondorod  in  thp  Latin  version  of  Fici- 
irctj/ra  vou,  aixiyq  (hat,  uxnrep  (pr]a\f  'Aj/a|-  nus;  ••(ognitiooninisconstatsecundumquan- 
ayopas,  'Iva  Kparfj,  toDto  S'  ((ttIv  'iva  ^""^  '"  ""•""  coMgre<,';Uionem,  atquo  secuu- 
yi'uiplCiJ.  The  passage  of  Anaxagoias  is  ^em  impaitibiU-m  ccgnoscibilis  totius  corn- 
given  at  length  in  the  Conimentaiv  of  Situ-  prehensionein.  —  Ed. 

plicius,  and  quoted  in  part  by  TreudL-Ienburg  ^  Monadologie,  §  14. -^Ed. 

on  the  Di'  Anima,  p.  46">.  —  E».  4  Kritik  der  reinen  Vemunft,  p.  359,  ed.  1799. 

2  Priscianus  Lydus:       Kara    'Tr]v    fls    ff      — Ed.    • 

<rvva.ip€(nv,  Koi  ttjv  ap-epiffiov  rov  yuwcTTOv  (-f.   pkilehus,  sub  iuit.,  especially  p.   lo: 

Trai/rbs  TTfp't\-ni,LV,  aTrdarji   larauffvs  yfii-  ^;,V  Vifxas  ail  ij.'iai'  ISiav   wepl  iravThs  f^dir- 

<rfws.      {M^Td^patrif  Tiv  Qeocppdarou  Uepl  ^^^^  ^s^eVow  Cvruvi    and  Republic,  y.   p. 

Ai(rd-i)fffus—  Opera   Theoph.  ed.  Basil  p  273)  475,  et.  seq.  —  Ed. 


i^KCT.  lY.  METAPHYSICS.  49 

of  unity;"  and  Plotinus,  among  many  others,'  observes  that  our 
knowledge  is  perfect  as  it  is  one.  The  love  of  unity  is  by  Aristotle 
applied  to  solve  a  multitude  of  psychological  pha?noniena.^  8t. 
Augustin  even  analyzes  pain  into  a  feeling  of  the  frustration  of 
unity.  "Quid  est  enim  aliud  dolor,  nisi  quidam  sensus  divisionis 
vel  corruptionis  impatiens?  Unde  luce  clarius  appnret,  quam  sit 
ilia  anima  in  sui  corporis  universitate  avida  unitatis  et  tonax."'' 

Tills  love  of  unity,  this  tendency  of  mind  to  generalize  its 
knowledge,  loads  us  to  anticipnto  in   nature  a 

Love  of  unity  a       corresponding    uniformity ;  and    as   this  antici- 

cuidiiii;    principle    in  ^-  •       !•  i     •        ^  -ii 

*  .,       ,  patUMi    IS   found    m    harmonv  with    experience, 

philosophy.  i  _    •  '        _  ' 

it  not  only  affords  the  efficient  cause  of  philoso 
phy,  but  the  guiding  princij)le  to  its  discoveries.  "Thus,  for 
instance,  when  it  is  obser\'c«l  that  solid  bodies  are  compressible, 
we  are  induced  to  expect  that  liquids  will  be  found  to  be  so 
likewise;  Ave  subject  them,  consequently,  to  a  series  of  experiments; 
nor  do  we  rest  satisfied  until  it  be  proved  that  this  (piality  is  com- 
mon to  both  classes  of  substances.  Compressibility  is  then  pro- 
claimed a  physical  law,  —  a  law  of  nature  in  general;  and  we  ex- 
perience a  vivid  gratification  in  this  recognition  of  unconditioned 
universality."  Another  example;  Kant,*  reflecting  on  the  difterences 
among  the  jilanets,  or  rather  among  the  stars  revolving  round  the 
sun,  and  havinir  discovered  that  these  differences  betraved  a  uni- 
form  progress  and  proportion,  —  a  pro])ortion  Avhich  was  no  longer 
to  be  found  between  Saturn  and  the  first  of  the  comets,  —  the  law 
of  unity  and  the  analogy  of  nature,  led  him  to  conjecture  that,  in 
the  intervening  ?i]»ace,  there  existed  a  star,  the  discovery  of  which 
would  vindicate  the  universality  of  the  law.  Thjs  anticipation  was 
verified.     Uranus  was  discovered  by  Herschel,  and  our  dissatisfac- 


1  Enn.  iii.  lib.  viii.  c.  2,  on  which  Fieinus  xviii.  9,  where  it  is  n<ed  toexplain  the  higher 
•ays:  "  Co;;noscenili  piitenlia  in  ipso  uctu  ])lensure  wo  derive  IVoni  those  narrulives  that 
coguitionis  nniiin  i|UO(hininioilo  sit  cum  oh-  relate  to  a  single  subject.  —  V.V. 

jecto,  ct  (juo  niagis  sit  ununi,  eo  pcrtectior  s  De  Libera  Arbitrin,  lib.   iii.  23.     [St.  An- 

est  c-Jgnitio.  atque  vicissim  —  En.  gustin  applied  the  iiriiiciple  of  Unity  to  solve 

£hii.  vi.  lib.  ix.  c  1:  'ApeTi)S(\i/vxvs'6rav  the   theory  of  the   IJeautiful:    '-Onmis   pul- 

fi'r  ^f,  Kol   (is  (.liai/  bfxoKoylav  ivoidrj.   .    .   .  ehritudinis   forma  unitas  est."  £>•<.<<.  xviii.) 

'E7re«5))  TO  ndin-a  eh  ei^  iiyfi,  5TiiJ.ioui>yov(Ta  —  Orul  Inter/). 

Kol   irXaTTovaa   koI   nop<povaa  Ka\  avvrar-  ^  All^emeine  Naturgeschichte  untf  Theorit  ties 

Toncra.       I'roclus,  —  rvaitris    ovSfi'hs    t<nai  Hiinnifl.t,  l~^',:   UVrA-r.  vol.  vi.  p.  88.     KanfJ 

Tail'  6in-it)ii,  fiirws  jUTj  ^(TTi  rh  fv  .   .   .   OvSt  conjecture  was  founded  on  a  supposeil  pro- 

Xdyos   f<TTaf    koI  ykp    6   K6yos   (k  iroKKwy  gre.«sive  increase  in  the  eccentricifie.'<  of  the 

«fs,   fiirfp   rf\tws'  Kol  7)   yi/wcris,    '6rav  rh  planetary  orbits.    This  progrc-^sion,  however. 

^ww<TKOv  iv  y'iin)Tai  irphs  rh  yvwcrrSi'.     In  is  only  true  of  Venus,  the  Earth,  Jupiter,  and 

P/aroni's  r/Kotoirmm,  p.  "t;  (ed.  HilS).  — r.l>.  Saturn.      The   eceenfiieity  diniiiii>h<s   again 

2  See  Dr  Mrmnria,  §  5,  for  application  of  in  Uranus,  and  still  more  in  Neptune.  Sub- 
"thisprincipleto  theprobleni  of  Keminiscence.  sequent  discoveries  Imve  thus  rather  weak- 
Cf.    nei,rs  Works,  p.  900.     See  al.so  Problems,  ened  than  contirmed  the  theory. —  Ed 

7 


50  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  IV. 

tion  at  the  anomaly  appeased.  Franklin,  in  like  manner,  surmised 
that  lightning  and  the  electric  spark  were  identical ;  and  when  he 
succeeded  in  verifying  this  conjecture,  our  love  of  unity  was  grati- 
fied. From  the  moment  an  isolated  fact  is  discovered,  we  en- 
deavor to  refer  it  to  other  facts  which  it  resemhles.  ITntil  this 
be  accomplished,  we  do  not  view  it  as  undei-stood.  This  is  the 
case,  for  example,  with  sulphur,  which,  in  a  certain  degree  of  tem- 
peratm-e  melts  like  other  bodies,  but  at  a  higher  degree  of  heat, 
instead  of  evaporating,  again  consolidates.  When  a  fact  is  gen- 
eralized, our  discontent  is  quieted,  and  we  considci-  the  generality 
itself  as  tantamount  to  an  explanation.  Why  does  this  api)le  fall 
to  the  groimd  ?  Because  all  bodies  gravitate  towards  each  other. 
Arrived  at  this  general  fact,  we  inquire  no  more,  although  ignorant 
now  as  previously  of  the  cause  of  gravitation ;  for  gravitation  is 
nothing  more  than  a  name  for  a  general  fact,  the  vihy  of  which 
Ave  knoAv  not.  A  mystery,  if  recognized  as  universal,  would  no 
longer  appear  mysterious. 

"  But  this  thirst  of  unity,  —  this  tendency  of  mind  to  generalize 
its  knowledge,  and  our  concomitant  belief  in  the 

Love    of  unity    a  •x>         -x         ^         >.         i       i  •  ^  i 

imiiormity  oi  natural  pnajnomena,  is  not  only 

source  of  error.  .  _  ^  ^     _  •' 

an  effective  mean  of  discovery,  but  likeM'ise 
an  abundant  source  of  error.  Hardly  is  there  a  similarity  de- 
tected between  two  or  three  flxcts,  than  men  hasten  to  extend  it 
to  all  others ;  and  if,  ])erchance,  the  similarity  has  been  detected 
by  ourselves,  self-loxe  closes  our  eyes  to  the  contradictions  which 
our  theory  may  encounter  from  exjjerience."  ^  "  I  have  heard," 
says  Condillac,  "  of  a  philoso])her  who  had  the  happiness  of  think- 
ing that  he  had  (.liscovered  a  principle  which  was  to  explain  all 
the  wonderful  i)h{Bnomena  of  chemistry,  and  who,  in  the  ardor  t)f 
his  self-gratulation,  hastened  to  communicate  his  discovery  to  a 
skilful  chemist.  The  chemist  nad  the  kindness  to  Hsten  to  him, 
and  then  calmly  told  him  that  there  Avas  but  one  unfortunate  cir- 
(;umstance  for  his  discovery,  —  that  the  chemical  facts  were  precisely 
the  converse  of  what  he  had  suj)posed  them  to  be.  '  Well,  then, 
said  the  philoso])her,  '  have  the  goodness  to  tell  me  Avhat  they^  arc, 
that  I  may  explain  them  on  my  system.' "  -  We  are  naturally  dis- 
posed to  refer  everything  we  do  not  know  to  principles  with  Avhich 
Ave  are  familiar.  As  Aristotle  observes,''  the  early  Pythagoreans, 
Avho  first  studied  arithmetic,  Avere  induced,  by  their  scientific  ])redi- 
lections,  to  explain  the  ])roblem  of  the  miiverse  by  the  properties  ol 

1  Gamier,    Cours  de  Psychologie,  p.  192-94.  '-   Troitc    tUs    Si/.'Hc/ne.^,   cliap.    xii.    CEuvrei 

tUf.  Ancillon,  Nouv.  Melanges,  i.  p.  1,  et  seq.]        P/iilus.  torn.  iv.  p.  146  (ifl.  1795). 

3  Mttapk.  I.  t>.  —  Ed. 


Lect,  IV.  METAPHYSICS.  51 

niiinber  ;  and  he  notices  also  that  a  certain  musical  philosopher  was, 
in  like  manner,  led  to  suppose  that  the  soul  was  but  a  kind  of  har- 
mony.' The  musician  sii<;s;t'sts  to  my  recollection  a  passage  of  Dr. 
Keid.  "  3Ir.  Locke,"  says  he,  "  mentions  an  eminent  musician  Avho 
believed  that  God  created  the  world  in  six  days,  and  reste<l  the 
seventh,  because  there  are  but  seven  notes  in  music.  I  myself,"  he 
continues,  "  knew  one  of  that  pi'ofession  who  thought  that  there 
could  be  only  three  ])arts  in  harmony  —  to  wit,  bass,  tenor  and 
treble;  because  there  are  but  three  persons  in  tlic  Trinity." - 
The  alchemists  would  see  in  nature  only  a  single  metal,  clothed  with 
the  different  ap})earances  Avhich  we  denoniinate  gold,  silver,  cojt])er, 
iron,  mercury,  etc.,  and  they  confidently  ex])lained  the  mysteries, 
not  only  of  nature,  but  of  religion,  by  salt,  sulphur,  and  nier»-ury.' 
Some  of  our  modern  zoologists  recoil  from  the  possibility  of  nature 
working  on  two  different  plans,  and  rather  than  renoimce  the  unity 
which  delitjhts  them,  thev  insist  on  recotynizino:  the  winfjs  of  insects 
in  tlu^  gills  of  fishes,  and  the  sternum  of  quadru])eds  in  the  an- 
tenna} of  butteiilies,  —  and  all  this  that  they  may  prove  that  man  is 
only  the  evolution  of  a  molluscum.  Descartes  saw  in  the  pliysical 
world  only  matter  and  motion  ;  ■•  and,  more  recently,  it  has  l)een 
maintained  that  thought  itself  is  only  a  movement  of  matter.'  Of 
all  the  faculties  of  the  mind,  Condillac  recoirnized  only  one,  which 
transformed  itself  like  the  Protean  metal  of  the  alchemists  ;  and  lie 
maintains  that  our  belief  in  the  rising  of  to-morrow's  siin  is  a  sensa- 
tion." It  is  this  tendency,  indeed,  Avhich  has  princij)ally  determined 
philosophers,  as  we  shall  hereafter  sec,  to  neglect  or  violate  the 
original  duality  of  consciousness  ;  in  which,  as  an  idtimate  fact, — 
a  self  and  not-selti  — mind  knowing  and  matter  kiu)wn,  — are  given 
in  t-ounterpoise  and  mutual  opposition  ;  and  hence  the  three  Unita- 
rian schemes  of  Materialism,  Idealism,  an<l  AKsohite  Identity.'  In 
fine.  Pantheism,  or  the  doctrine  which  identifies  mind  and  mattcj-, 
—  the  Creator  and  the  creature,  God  ami  the  universe,  —  liow 
are  we  to  explain  the  |)revalence  of  this  modification  ot  ntlici^ni  in 
the  most  ancient  and  in  the  most  recent  times?  Simply  bi-eause 
it  carries  our  love  of  unity  to  its  highest  frnition.     To  snm  np  Mhat 


1  T)e  Ammn,\.  \\  PI.tIo,  Phmln.Yi.  Sf!.  The  5  rricstlpy,  Diaqiiisitinns  relating  to  Matte*- 
siimc  theory  wiis  ufterwurds  ndupti'd  by  Aris-  and  Spirit,  sect.  iii.  p.  24,  tt.  srq. ;  Frrf  Disrut- 
totlo's  own  pupil,  Aristoxenus.  See  Cicero,  sions  of  Mntrriatism  nmt  Nfcemtily,  [tp.  2!)i^,  Tffi, 
Tusc.  Qiirrst.  i.  10.  —  Kl).  tt.  srq.  —  Kd. 

2  7n<fWfc/imi  PottxTS,  Ess.  vi.  chap.  viii. ;  Co//.  „ .  ,  , 

„,    ,          ,-„  fi  Tlie  prccodiiit  ilhistrations  are  borrowed 

IV oris,  p    4l3.  ,           ,.          ■          „       ,     .                   in.          r„ 

<-.       „       .         „.      „,  .,        ..          ,    .  fromOariniT,  ftj/Wio/og-ic,  p.  104.  — Ed 

3  See  Brucker,  Hist.  Phtlosopni<T,  vol.  iv.  p. 

^T!,et.  seq.—  V.n.  7  Soc  tlu-  AtilhorV  Supplementary  Disser 

4  Principia,  pars  ii.  2.3.  —  Ed.  tatioiis  to  Urid.  note  ( '.  — Ei). 


52  METAPHYSICS.  Lect,  IV. 

has  just  been   said   in  the  words  of  Sir  John  Daviee,  a  highly 
philosophic  poet  of  the  Elizabethan  age  :  — 

"  Musicians  think  our  souls  are  li.irmonies; 
Physicians  hold  that  tlicy  complexions  be; 
Epicures  make  them  swarms  of  atomies : 
Which  do  by  chance  into  our  bodies  flee. 

One  thinks  the  soul  is  air;  another  tire; 

Another  blood,  ditfus'd  alwut  the  heart; 
Another  saith  the  elements  conspire. 

And  to  her  essence  each  doth  yield  a  part. 

Some  think  one  gen'ral  soul  tills  every  brain, 

As  the  bright  sun  sheds  light  in  every  star; 
And  others  think  the  n'Ume  of  soul  is  vain. 

And  that  we  only  wcU-mix'd  bodies  are. 

Thus  these  great  clerks  their  little  wisdom  show, 
While  with  their  doctrines  they  at  hazard  play; 

Tossing  their  light  opinions  to  and  fro. 

To  mock  the  lewd,i  as  learn'd  in  this  as  they; 

For  no  craz'd  brain  could  ever  yet  propound, 
Touching  the  soul  so  vain  and  fond  a  thought; 

But  some  among  these  masters  have  been  found. 
Which,  m  their  schools,  the  self-same  thouglit  have  taught." 

To  this  lore  of  unity  —  to  this  desire  of  reducing   the  objects  of 

our    knowledge    to    harmony    and    system  —  a 

Influence  of  prccon-       gource  of  truth  and  discovery  if  subservient  to 

oeue    opnu  1  observation,  but  of  error  and  dclusiou  If  allowed 

ible  to  love  of  unity.  ' 

to  dictate  to  observation  what  phainomena  are 
to  be  perceived  ;  to  this  principle,  I  say,  we  may  refer  the  influ- 
ence which  preconceived  opinions  exercise  upon  our  perceptions 
and  our  judgments,  by  inducing  us  to  see  and  require  only  what  ia 
in  unison  with  them.  What  we  ^nsh,  says  Demosthenes,  that  we  be- 
lieve  ;  ^  Avhat  avo  expect,  says  Aristotle,  that  we  find  ^  —  truths  which 
"have  been  reechoed,  by  a  thousand  confessors,  and  confirmed  by  ten 
thousand  examples.     0])inions  once  adopted  become   part  of  the 

1  Lewd,  according  to  Tooke,  from  AnRlo-  ^  Boi'A.6To«  rovSt'  eVowros  «ol  oterai,  De- 
Saxon,  LcRivetJ,  past  participle  of  LfPiran,  to       mostli.  Olynth.  iii.  p.  68.  —  Kl>. 

mislead.     It  was  foinn'rly  ai)i)lied  to  the  {lay)  4  Rliet.  ii.  1.    To)  /xeu  iTri^vfj.ov"Ti  Kcd  (veK- 

people  in  contradistinction  from  the  clergy.  iriSi  6uTt,  ihu  ^  rh   icrSfj.ei'OV  riSv,  Koi  i(Tf(T- 

See  Richardson,  Eng.  Diet.,  v.  Lewd.  — Ed.  ^ai  Ka\  h.ya^bv  ffficrSiat  (palffrat,  riS  5'  aira- 

2  On  the  Imtnortaliiy  of  the  fioid,  8tiuiza9,  ^e?,  koJ    5v(7X^P<^^'OPrt,    TOvvayrLov.  —  Ed. 
«( leq. 


Lect.  IV.  METAPHYSICS  63 

intellectual  system  of  their  hoUlers.  If  oj)posed  to  prevalent  doc- 
trines, self-love  defends  them  as  a  point  of  honor,  exaggerates  what- 
ever may  confirm,  overlooks  or  extenuates  whatever  may  contradict. 
Again,  if  accepted  as  a  general  doctrine,  they  are  too  often  recog 
nized,  in  consequence  of  their  })revalence,  as  in<lis))utal)le  truths,  and 
all  counter  appearances  peremptorily  overiulcd  as  manifest  illu- 
sions. Thus  it  is  that  men  "will  not  see  in  thi'  ])hjenomena  w  li.it 
alone  is  to  be  seen  ;  in  their  obserA'ations,  they  inter])olate  and  they 
expunge  ;  and  tliis  mutilated  and  adulterated  product  thry  call  a 
fact.  And  Avhy  ?  Because  the  real  ])luenomena,  if  admitted,  would 
Bpoil  the  pleasant  music  of  their  thoughts,  and  convert  its  factitious 
harmony  into  discord.  "Qua?  voluiit  sapitmt,  et  nolunt  sapere  quae 
vera  sunt."  ^  In  conse(|uence  of  this,  many  a  system,  professing  to 
be  reared  exclusively  on  observation  and  fact,  rests  in  reality  in.iiidy 
upon  hypothesis  and  fiction.  \  jtretended  experience  is,  indeed, 
the  screen  behind  which  everv  illusive  doctrine  regularlv  retires. 
"There  are  more  false  facts,"  says  Cullen,- "  current  in  tlie  W(jrld, 
than  false  theories;" — and  the  liveiy  of  Lord  B.icou  has  been  most 
ostentatiously  paraded  by  many  wlio  were  no  members  of  Ids 
household.  Fact,  —  obserA'ation,  —  induction,  have  always  been 
the  watchwords  of  those  who  have  dealt  most  extensively  in  fancy. 
It  is  now  above  three  centuries  since  ^Vgrippa,  in  his  ^^coiiti/  of  the 
Sciences,  observed  of  Astrology,  Physiognomy,  and  3Ietoposcopy, 
(the  Phrenology  of  those  days),  that  experience  was  ])rofessedly 
their  only  foundation  and  their  only  defence  :  "  Solent  omnes  ilhe  <li- 
vinationum  prodigiosan  artes  non,  nisi  experiential  titulo,  se  defendeie 
et  se  objectionum  vinculis  extricare."''"  It  Avas  on  this  ground,  too, 
that,  at  a  later  period,  the  great  Kepler  vindicated  the  first  of  these 
arts.  Astrology.  For,  said  he,  how  could  the  principle  of  a  science 
be  false  where  ex])erience  showed  that  its  ])redictions  were  uni- 
formly fulfilled."  ^  Xow,  truth  w:is  with  Kepler  e\  en  as  a  passion; 
and  his,  too,  w.is  oni'  of  tlie  most  powerful  intellects  that  ever 
cultivated  :md  ]»romote<l  a  science.  To  liiiii,  :istronomy,  indeed, 
owes  ])erl»ai)s  even  nuire  than  to  Xewton.  And  yet,  even  his  great 
mind,  preoccuj)ied  with  a  certain  ])reva]ent  Ixdief,  could  observe  and 
judge  only  in  conformity  with  that  bidit-f.  This  tendency  to  look 
at  realitii'S  oidy  tlirough  tlie  s])eetacles  ot"  mm  1i\  jiotiiesis,  is  perhaps 
seen  most  conspicuously  in  tlie  fortunes  (jf  medicine.     The  histoiy 

1  [St.  Hilarii.    lib.    vii.,    De    Trinitatf,  nub       liis  JlfntcriVi  jV«/ira,  vol.  i.  c.  ii.  art.  iv..  second 
Init.]  edition  —Ed. 

2  For  Cullen's  illustrations  of  the  influence  .-i  Cpera,  vol.  ii.  c.  33,  ji.  G4: 

of  a  pretended  experience  in  Jledicine,  *ee  4   De  Ste.Ua  Nof<i,c.  >i,  10;  Harmonif-  Mundl^ 

lib.  iv.  c.  7  —  Ki>. 


64  METAPHYSICS.  Lhct.  IV. 

of  that  science  is,  in  trutli,  little  else  than  an  incredible  narrative  of 
the  substitution  of  fitttions  for  facts  ;  the  converts  to  an  hy])Othesis, 
(and  every,  the  most  contradictory,  doctrine  has  had  its  day),  regu- 
larly seeing  and  reporting  oidy  in  conformity  with  its  dictates.^  The 
same  is  also  true  of  the  philosophy  of  mind  ;  and  the  variations  and 
alternations  in  this  science,  which  are  ])erhai)S  only  surpassed  by 
those  in  medicine,  are  to  be  traced  to  a  refusal  of  the  real  phsDnom- 
enon  revealed  in  consciousness,  and  to  the  substitution  of  another, 
more  in  unison  Avith  preconceived  opinions  of  what  it  ought  to 
be.  Nor,  in  this  commutation  of  tact  with  fiction,  should  we 
sus2)ect  that  there  is  any  mala  fides.  Prejudice,  imagination,  and 
passion,  sufficiently  explain  the  illusion.  "  Fingunt  simul  cre- 
duntque."  -  "When,"  says  Kant,  "  we  have  once  heard  a  l)ad  report 
of  this  or  that  individual,  we  incontinently  think  that  we  read  the 
rogue  in  his  countenance ;  fancy  here  mingles  with  observation, 
whifh  is  still  farther  vitiated  when  affection  or  passion  interferes." 

"  The  passions,"  says  Helvetius,^  "  not  only  concentrate  our 
attention  on  certain  exchisive  aspects  of  the  objects  wliich  they  pre- 
sent, but  thev  likewise  often  deceive  us  in  showing  these  same 
objects  where  they  do  not  exist.  The  story  is  well  known  of  a  par- 
son and  a  gay  lady.  They  had  both  heai-d  that  the  moon  was 
peopled,  —  believed  it,  —  and,  telescope  in  hand,  Avere  attempting 
to  discover  the  inhabitants.  If  I  am  not  mistaken,  says  the  lady, 
who  looked  first,  I  perceive  two  shadows ;  they  bend  toward  each 
other,  and,  I  have  no  doubt,  are  two  happy  lovers.  Lovers,  madam, 
says  the  divine,  who  looked  second ;  oh  fie !  the  two  shadows  you 
saw  are  the  two  steeples  of  a  cathedral.  This  story  is  the  liistory 
of  man.  In  general,  we  perceive  only  in  things  what  we  are  de- 
sirous of  finding :  on  the  earth  as  in  the  moon,  various  preposses- 
sions make  us  always  recognize  either  lovers  or  cathedrals." 
\y  Such  are  the  two  intellectu.11  necessities  which  afford  the  two 
I,'  principal  sources  of  philosophy  : — the  intellec- 

UM  lary  tau.e  o        ^^^^j    jj^^^^ggj^^^y    ^j'  refunding    effects   into    their 

philosophy — Wonder.  . 

causes  ;•*  —  and  the  intellectual  necessity  of  car- 
rying uj)  our  knowledge  into  unity  or  system.  But,  besides  these 
intellectual  necessities,  which  are  involved  in  the  very  existence  of 
our  faculties  of  knowledge,  there  is  another  j)owei-ful  subsidiary  to 
the  same  effect,  —  in  a  certain  affection  of  our  capacities  of  feeling. 
This  feeling,  accoiding  to  circumstances,  is  denominated  surprise, 
astonishment.,   admiration,   wonder,  and,   when   blended   with  the 

1  See  the  Author's  Article  "  On  the  Revolu-         •"  D«  V  Krprii,  Discours  i.  chap.  if. 
tions  of  Medicine,"  Disnisstima^  p.  242.  — Ed.  4  [This  expre.s.sion  is  employed  by  Sergeant, 

a  Tacitu.',  Hnt   lib.  ii.  c.  8.  —  Ed.  See  Method  to  Science,  p.  222.  Cf.  pp.  144,  145./ 


Lkct.  IV.  METAPHYSICS.  55 

intellectual  tendencies  we  have  considered,  it  obtains  the  name  ot 
curioniti/.     Tliis  feeling-,  though  it  cannot,  as  some  have  held,  be 
allowed  to  be  the  ])nncii)al,  far  less  the  only,  cause  of  philosophy, 
is,  however,  a  2)owerful  auxiliary  to  speculation;  and,  though  iiiailc- 
quate    to    account    for    the    existence    of  philosoj)liy  absolutely,  it 
adequately   explains    the   j)reference   with   Avhich    certain    parts   of 
philosophy, have  been  cultivated,  and  the  order  in  which  ])hilosophy 
in  general  has  been  developed.     We  may  err  botli  in  exaggerating, 
and  in  extenuating,  its  influence.    Wonder  has  been  contemptuously 
called  the  daughter  of  ignorance  ;  true,  but  wonder,  we  should  add, 
is  the  mother  of  knowledge.     Among  others,  Plato,  Aristotle,  Plu- 
tarch, and  r)a(<)n,  have  all  concurred  in  testifying  to  the  influence 
of  this  priutipie.     "Admiration,"  says  the  Platonic  Socrates  in  the 
Th<(jet((n.<\'  —  "admiration  is  a  highly  philosophical   affection;    in- 
<leed,  there  is  no  other  princi])le  of  philosoiihy  but  this." — "That 
])hilosophy,"   says   Aristotle,  "was   not   originally  studied    for   any 
pra(!tical  eml,  is  manifest  from  those  who  first  began  Xo  philoso])hize. 
It  was,  ill  fact,  wonder  which  then,  as  now,  determined  men  to  phi- 
]osoi)liical  researches.     Among  the  j)luenomena  presented  to  them, 
their  a(hiiiiati(ni   was  first   directed  to  those  more  proximate  and 
more  on  a  level  with  their  powers,  and  then  rising  by  degrees,  they 
came    at    length    to    demand  an    exidanation    of  the    higher   jiluv- 
nomena,  —  as  the  different  states  of  the  moon,  sun,  and  stars, — 
:iiid  the  origin  of  the  universe.     Now,  to  doubt  and  to  be  aston- 
ished, is  to  recognize  our  ignorance.     Hence  it  is  that  the  lover  of 
wisdom  is  in  a  certain  sort  a  lover  of  mythi,  (^lAo/xv^^os  ttws),  for  the 
subject  of  mythi  is  the  astonishing  ami   marvellous.     If  then,  men 
])hilosophi/,e  to  ('si'ai)e  ignorance,  it  is  clear  that  they  pursue   knuw- 
h^lge   on    its    own  account,   and  not  for    the   sake    of  any  foreign 
utility.     This  is  proved  by  the  fact;  for  it  was  only  after  all  that 
l»ertained  to  the  wants,  welfare,  ami  conveniences  of  life  had  been 
discovered,  that  men  commenced  their  philosophical  reseaiches.     It 
is,  therefore,  manifest  that  we  do  not  study  philosoi)hy  for  the  sake 
of  anything  ulterior;  and,  as  we  call   him  a  free  man  wIk.  helongs 
to  himself  and  not  to  another,  so  jihilosophy  is  of  all  sciences  the 
only  free  or  liberal  study,  for  it  alone  is  unto  itself  an  end."-'  —  "It 
is  the  business    of  jihilosophy,"  says  Plutarch,   "to   investigate,   to 
admire,   and  to   doubt.""'     You  will   find   in   the   first  book    of  the 
JJt  Au<iuietitls  of  Uacon,^  a  recognition  of  the  principle  "admiratio 


1  1'.  1.05.  —  Ei).  vol    ii.  ^  3.'*5:  ^irti   S*  rov  (pi\o(TO<pt7v,   fov, 

2  Mrtapk.  lib.  i.  c.  2.     See  also  for  a  pussajri-  rb  ^■i)-rt'iv,  rh  davixai^ftv,  tccd  iLVOpfty.  —  Kd 
to  a  similar  flTirt,  liJieluric,  lib.  i.  c.  11.  4  Vol.  \  iii.  \>-  H,  (Montagu's  ed.) 

s  riutarcli,  Tlepl  rov  E»  tov  iv  ix(K(poh, 


56  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  IV 

est  semen  sapientiue,"  and  copious  illustrations  of  its  trutli,  —  illus- 
trations which  I  shall  not  quote,  but  they  deserve  your  private 
study. 

Xo  one,  however,  has  so  fully  illustrated  the  ])lay  and  effect  of 
thLs  motive  as  a  distinguished  philosopher  of  this  country,  Adam 
Smith  ;  although  he  has  attributed  too  little  to  the  principal,  too 
much  to  the  subsidiary,  momenta.  He  seems  not  to  have  been 
aware  of  what  had  been,  previously  to  him,  observed  in  regard  to 
this  pi'inciple  by  others.  You  will  find  the  discussion  among  his. 
posthumous  essays,  in  that  entitled  Tlie  Principles  ichich  lead  and 
direct  Philosop/iiral  Iitquiries,  illustrated  by  the  History  of  As- 
tronomy ; —  to  this  I  must  simply  refer  you. 

We  have  already  remarked,  that  the  principle  of  wonder  affords 

an  explanation  of  the  order  in  which  the  differ- 

Affords an  expiation       ^^^  obiccts  of  philosophv  engaged  the  attention 

of  the  Older  in  which  ,-1        rni  ■  r>     T^      ^  ^^ 

objects  studied.  ^^  mankind.     Ihe  aim  of  all  philosophy  is  the 

discovery  of  i^rineiples,  that  is,  of  higher  causes ;. 
but,  in  the  procedure  to  this  end,  men  first  endeavored  to  explain 
those  phaenomena  which  attracted  their  attention  by  arousing  their 
wonder.  The  child  is  wholly  absorbed  in  the  observation  of  the 
world  without ;  the  world  within  first  engages  the  contemplation  of 
the  man.  As  it  is  with  the  individual,  so  was  it  with  the  species. 
Philosophy,  before  attempting  the  problem  of  intelligence,  endeav- 
ored to  resolve  the  problem  of  nature.  The  spectacle  of  the  exter- 
nal universe  was  too  imposing  not  first  to  solicit  curiosity,  and  to 
direct  upon  itself  the  prelusive  efforts  of  philosophy.  Thalos  and 
Pythagoras,  in  whom  philosophy  finds  its  earliest  representatives^ 
endeavored  to  explain  the  organization  of  the  universe,  and  to  sub- 
stitute a  scientific  for  a  religious  cosmogony.  For  a  season  their 
successors  toiled  in  the  same  course ;  and  it  was  only  after  philoso- 
phy had  tried,  and  tired,  its  forces  on  external  nature,  that  the 
human  mind  recoiled  upon  itself,  and  sought  in  the  study  of  its  own 
nature  tlie  object  and  end  of  philoso])hy.  The  mind  now  became 
to  itself  its  })oint  of  departure,  and  its  principal  object ;  and  its 
progress,  if  less  ambitious,  was  more  secure.  Socrates  was  he  who 
first  decided  this  new  destination  of  philosophy.  From  his  epoch 
man  sought  in  himself  the  solution  of  the  great  problem  of  exist- 
ence, and  the  history  of  })hilosophy  was  henceforAvard  only  a  deveU 
opment,  more  or  less  successful,  more  or  less  complete,  of  the 
inscription  on  the  Delphic  temple  —  Tvd^i  o-ctturdv —  Know  thyself  ' 

1  Plato,  Protagoras,  p.  343.  —  Ed.  ISee  Geruzez,    Nouvfau  Cours  de  Philosophie,  p.  1  1 


LECTURE    V. 

THE   DISPOSITIONS   WITH   WHICH  PHILOSOPHY   OUGHT   TO 

BE   STUDIED. 

Having,  in  the  previous  Lectures,  informed  you, —  1°,  What 
Philosophy  is,  and  2°,  Wliat  are  its  Causes,  I  avouM  now,  in  tlie 
third  place,  say  a  few  Avords  to  you  on  the  T)is])ositions  with  which 
Philosophy  ought  to  be  studied,  for,  without  certain  practical  con- 
ditions a  speculative  knowledge  of  the  most  perfect  Method  of 
procedure,  (our  next  following  question,)  remains  barren  and  unap- 
plied. 

"To  attain  to  a  knoAvledge  of  ourselves,". says  Socrates,  "we 
must  banish  prejudice,  passion,  and  sloth;"'  and  no  one  who  neg- 
lects this  prece])t  can  hope  to  make  any  jtrogress  in  the  ])hil()SO])hy 
of  the  human  mind,  which  is  onlv  another  term  for  the  knuwledire 
of  ourselves. 

In    the    first    place,  tlicn,   all    prejudices,  —  that    is,  all    opinions 

formed    on    irrational   grounds. — ought  to   be 

First  condition  oi'       removed.     A  preliminary  doubt  is  thus  the  fun- 

tlie   study  of   IMiiloso-  ,  ^,  ^..  n      ■<  •^  i  -1,1 

,  •  .■      ,.      damental   conditu)n  ot  i)iulos()i)hv ;  and  the  ne- 

phy, —  renunciution  ol  11.' 

prejudice.  ccssity  of  sucli  a  doubt  is  no  less  apparent  th:in 

is  its  difficulty.  Wc  do  not  approach  the  study 
of  philosoj)hy  ignorant,  but  j)ervertcd.  "There  is  no  one  who  has 
not  grown  up  under  a  load  of  beliefs  —  beliefs  which  he  owes  to 
tlie  accidents  of  country  and  family,  to  the  books  he  has  read,  to  the 
society  he  has  frequented,  to  the  education  lie  lias  received,  and,  in 
general,  to  the  circumstances  which  have  concurred  in  the  formation 
of  his  intellectual  an<l  moral  lial)it>.  These  bflicts  may  be  true,  or 
they  may  be  false,  or,  what  is  nu)re  probabU',  they  may  be  a  medley 
of  truths  and  ei-i-ors.  It  is,  however,  under  llieir  intluence  that  he 
studies,  and  through  them,  as  through  a  prism,  tli.-it  he  views  :nnl 
judges  the  objects  of  kiK)wledge.  Everytliing  i>  tlierefore  seen  by 
him  in  false  colors,  and  in  distorted  relations.     .Vnd  tliis  is  the  rea 

fSeo  (ijiticii-Arnnii't.  Dr"-'-'>i<-  Vifof/tliit/ur.  p.  39.1 

8 


58  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  V. 

son  why  philosophy,  as  the  science  of  truth,  requires  a  renunciation 
of  prejudices,  (prse-judicia,  opiniones  prae-judicatae), -^that  is,  con- 
clusions formed  without  a  previous  examination  of  their  grounds."^ 
In  this,  if  I  may  without   irreverence  compare  things  human  with 

things  divine,  Christianity  and  Philosophy  coin- 
in  this  Christianity       eide^— for   truth   is   equallv   the    end  of  both. 

andriiiloscphyatone.  .  .  *;   .  ...  ^ 

What  IS  tlie  primary  condition  which  our  ba- 
viour  requires  of  his  disciples '?  That  they  throw  off  their  old  pre- 
judices, and  come  with  hearts  willing  to  receive  knowledge  and  un- 
derstandings open  to  conviction,  "Unless,"  He  says,  " ye  become 
as  little  children,  ye  shall  not  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  Such 
is  true  religion  ;  such  also  is  true  philosophy.  Philosophy  requires 
an  emancipation  from  the  yoke  of  foreign  authority,  a  renunciation 
of  all  blind  adhesion  to  the  opinions  of  our  age  and  country,  and  a 
purification  of  the  intellect  from  all  assumptive  beliefs.  Unless  we 
can  cast  off  the  prejudices  of  the  man,  and  become  as  cbildren,  do- 
cile and  unjDerverted,  we  need  never  hope  to  enter  the  temjole  of 
philosophy.  It  is  the  neglect  of  this  primary  condition  which  has 
mainly  occasioned  men  to  wander  from  the  unity  of  truth,  and 
caused  the  endless  A^ariety  of  religious  and  j^hilosophical  sects. 
Men  would  not  submit  to  approach  the  word  of  God  in  order  to 
receive  from  that  alone  their  doctrine  and  their  faith  ;  but  they  came 
in  general  with  jireconceived  opinions,  and,  according]}',  each  found 
in  revelation  only  Avhat  he  Avas  predetermined  to  find.     So,  in  like 

manner,  is  it  in  philosophy.  Consciousness  is  to 
.,    ^"^^'°"^"®^^    ^"         the  philosopher  what  the  Bible  is  to  the  theo- 

tlie  Bible.  -^  "^ 

logian.  Both  are  revelations  of  the  truth,  — 
and  both  afford  the  truth  to  those  who  are  content  to  receive  it,  as 
it  ought  to  be  received,  Avith  reverence  and  submission.  But  as  it 
has,  too  frequently,  fiired  i^'ith  the  one  revelation,  so  has  it  Avith  the 
other.  Men  turned,  indeed,  to  consciousness,  and  professed  to  re- 
gard its  authority  as  paramount,  but  they  Avere  not  content  humbly 
to  accej^t  the  facts  Avhicli  consciousness  revealed,  and  to  establish 
these  Avithout  retrenchment  or  distortion,  as  the  only  principles  of 
their  ])hilosophy  ;  on  the  i-ontrary,  they  came  Avith  opinions  already 
formed,  Avith  systems  already  constructed,  and  Avhile  they  eagerly 
appealed  to  consciousness  Avhen  its  data  supported  their  conclusions, 
they  ma<le  no  scruple  to  overlook,  or  to  misinterpret,  its  facts  when 
these  Avere  not  in  harmony  Avith  their  speculations.  Thus  religion 
and  philosophy,  as  they  both  terminate  in  the  same  end,  so  they 
both  depart  from  the  same  fundamental  condition.     "  Aditus  ad  reo- 

1  [G^tien-ArnouU,  Doct.  Phil.,  pp.  39,  40.] 


l^ECT.  V.  METAPHYSICS.  59 

nura  hominis,  quod  fundatur  in  scientiis,  quam  ad  rcgnum  ccElorum, 
in  quod,  nisi  sub  persona  infantis,  intrai'C  non  datur."  ' 

But  the  influence  of  early  prejudice  is  the  more  dangerous,  inas- 
much as  this  influence  is  unobtrusive.     Few  of 

Influence  of  early       ^^^^  .^^.^^^  perliaps,  fully  aware  of  liow  little  we  owe 

prejudice  unobtrusive.  ,  i  i        •     /i  n 

to  ourselves,  —  how  much  to  the  influence  of 
others.  "Non  licet,"  says  Seneca,  "ire  recta  via ;  trahunt  in  pra- 
vum  parentes ;  trahunt  serAi ;  nemo  errat  uni  sibi  sed  dementiam 
epargit  in  proximos  accii)itque  invicem.  Et  ideo,  in  singulis  vitia 
populorum  sunt,  quia  ilia  populus  dedit ;  dum  facit  quisque  pejorem, 
factus  est.  Didicit  deteriora,  delude  docuit :  eftectacjue  est  ingens 
ilia  nequitia,  congesto  in  unum,  quod  cuique  pessimum  scitur.  Sit 
ergo  aliquis  custos,  et  aurem  subinde  pervellat,  abigatque  rumores  et 
reclamet  populis  laudantibus." - 

Man  is  by  nature  a  social  animal.     "  He  is  more  political,"  says 

Aristotle,  '' than  any  bee  or  ant."  ^     But  the  ex- 
Source  of  the  power       isteucc  of  Society,  from  a  family  to  a  state,  sup- 

of  custom.    Man  a  so-  .^    •       i  i*  *•  ^  't. 

Doses  a  certain  harmonv  oi  sentiinent  among  its 

(.•lal  amnuil.  *  *  .  . 

members ;  and  nature  has,  accordingly,  wisely 
implanted  in  us  a  tendency  to  assimilate  in  opinions  and  habits  of 
thouirht  to  those  with  whom  we  live  and  act.  There  is  thus,  in 
every  society  great  cr  small,  a  certain  gravitation  of  opinions  to 
wards  a  common  centre.  As  in  our  natural  body,  every  part  has  a 
necessary  sympathy  with  every  other,  and  all  together  form,  by  their 
haniionious  consjuration,  a  healthy  whole;  so,  in  the  social  body, 
there  is  always  a  strong  prcdisi)Osition,  in  each  of  its  members,  to 
act  and  think  in  unison  with  the  rest.  This  universal  sympathy,  or 
fellow-feeling,  of  our  social  nature,  is  the  principle  of  the  difleivnt 
spirit  dominant  in  diflereiit  ages,  countries,  ranks,  sexes,  and  periods 
of  life.  It  is  the  cause  why  fishions,  why  jtolitical  and  religious 
enthusiasm,  why  moral  example,  either  for  good  or  evil,  spread  so 
rajiidly,  and  exert  so  powerful  an  influence.  As  men  arc  naturally 
prone  to  imitate  others,  they  conseciuently  regard,  as  important  or 
insi<.niiHcant,  as  honorable  or  disgraceful,  as  true  or  false,  as  good  or 
bad,  what  those  around  them  consider  in  the  same  light.  They  love 
and  hate  what  they  see  others  desire  and  eschew.  This  is  not  to  be 
regretted  ;  it  is  natural,  aii<l,  consequently,  it  is  right.  Iii.h  cd,  w^Tr 
it  otherwise,  society  could  not  subsist,  for  nothing  <an  lu-  more  ap- 
parent than  that  mankind  in  general,  destined  as  they  are  to  occu- 
pations incompatible  with  intellectual  cidtivation,  are  wholly  inca- 
pable of  forming  opinions  for  themselves  on  many  of  the  most  impor- 

1  Bacon,  jVoi-.  Orjj.  HI),  i  .  aj.li.  ixviii.  2  Epist.  xciv.  •''  Polit.  i.  2.  — Ed. 


GO  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  V. 

tant  objects  of  human  consideration.  If  such,  however,  be  the  in- 
tentions of  nature  with  respect  to  the  unenhghtened  classes,  it  is. 
manifest  that  a  heavier  ol)ligation  is  thereby  laid  on  those  who  en- 
joy the  advantages  of  intellectual  cultivation,  to  examine  with  dili- 
gence and  ini))artiality  the  foundations  of  those  ojnnious  which  have 
any  connection  with  the  welfare  of  mankind.  If  the  multitude  must 
be  led,  it  is  of  consequence  that  it  be  led  by  enlightened  conductors. 
That  the  great  multitude  of  mankind  are,  by  natural  disposition,, 
only  Avhat  others  are,  is  a  fact  at  all  times  so  obtrusive,  that  it  could 
not  escape  observation  from  the  moment  a  reflective  eye  was  first, 
turned  upon  man.  "  The  whole  conduct  of  Cambyses,"  says  Hero- 
dotus, ^  the  father  of  history,  "  towards  the  Egyptian  gods,  sanctu- 
aries, and  priests,  convinces  me  that  this  king  was  in  the  highest  de- 
gree insane,  for  otherwise  he  would  not  have  insulted  the  worship 
and  holy  things  of  the  Egyptians.  If  any  one  should  accord  to  all 
men  the  permission  to  make  free  choice  of  the  best  among  all 
customs,  undoubtedly  each  would  choose  his  own.  That  this  would 
certainly  happen  can  be  shown  by  many  examples,  and,  among 
others,  by  the  following.  The  King  Darius  once  asked  the  Greeks 
who  Avere  resident  in  his  court,  at  what  price  they  could  be  induced 
to  devour  their  dead  parents.  The  Greeks  ansAvered,  that  to  this 
no  price  could  bribe  them.  Thereupon  the  king  asked  some  In- 
dians who  were  in  the  habit  of  eating  their  dead  parents,  what  they 
would  take  not  to  eat  but  to  burn  them  ;  and  the  Indians  answered 
even  as  the  Greeks  had  done."  Herodotus  concludes  this  narrative 
Avith  the  observation,  that  "  Pindar  had  justly  entitled  Custom  — 
the  Queen  of  the  World." 

The    ancient    skeptics,    from    the    conformity    of   men    in    every 
country,  their    habits   of   thinking,  feeling,   and 

Skeptical  inference       ^^^^.^j^      ^^^^^  ^.^.^.  ^^  ^,^^  diversity  of  ditfereut  uatious 

from  the  influence  of         .  ^  .        ,  *^  . 

j.„gt(„„  in  these  habits,  inferred  that  nothing  was  by  na- 

ture beautiful  or  deformed,  true  or  false,  good  or 
bad,  but  that  these  dist'nctions  originated  solely  in  custom.  The 
modern  skepticisin  of  ]Montaigne  terminates  in  the  same  assertion  ; 
and  the  sublime  misanthropy  of  Pascal  has  almost  carried  him  to  a 
similar  exaggeration.  "In  the  just  and  •  the  unjust,"  says  he,  "Ave 
find  hardly  anything  Avhich  does  not  change  its  chai-acter  in  chang- 
ing its  climate.  Three  degrees  of  an  elevation  of  the  pole  reverses 
the  Avhole  of  jurisjjrudence.  A  meridian  is  decisive  of  truth,  and 
a  few  years  of  possession.  Fundamental  laws  change.  Right  has 
its  ejiochs.     A  pleasant  justice  Avhich  a  river  or  a  mountain  limits. 

1  Lib.  iii.  37,  38. 


Lect.  V.  METAPHYSICS  61 

Trnth,  on  this  side  the  Pyrenees,  error  on  tlie  other  !  "  ^  This  doc- 
trine is  exaggerated,  but  it  has  a  foundation  in  truth  ;  and  the  most 
zealous  champions  of  the  immutability  of  moral  distinctions  are 
unanimous  hi  acknowledging  the  powerful  infiuence  -wliich  the 
opinions,  tastes,  manners,  atiections,  and  actions  of  the  society  in 
■which  we  live,  exert  upon  all  and  each  of  its  members.  - 

Nor  is  this  influence  of  man  on  man  less  unambiguous  in  times  of 

social  tranquillity,  than  in  crises  of  social  convul- 

This    influence    of        siou.     In  scasous  of  political  and  religious  revo- 

man  on  man  in  times         i    i*  ^i  •  x  i     i     ^  ^i  •   ^ 

lution,  there  arises  a  strufriile  between  tlie  resist- 
both     of    tranquility         _  _  _  '/^ 

and  convulsion.  ^^^S  f<^>'"c<^  of  ancient  habits  and  the  contagious 

symi)athy  of  new  modes  of  feeling  and  thought. 
In  one  portion  of  society,  the  inveterate  influence  of  custom  i)revails 
over  the  contagion  of  example  ;  in  otliers,  the  contagion  of  example 
prevails  over  the  conservative  force  of  antiquity  and  habit.  In 
either  case,  however,  we  think  and  act  always  in  sympathy  with 
others.  "  AVe  remain,"  says  an  illustrious  philosopher,  "  submissive 
so  long  as  the  world  continues  to  set  the  example.  As  we  follow 
the  hei-d  in  forming  our  conceptions  of  what  is  respectable,  so  we 
are  ready  to  follow  the  multitude  also,  when  such  conceptions  come 
to  be  questioned  or  rejected  ;  and  are  no  less  vehement  reformers, 
Avhen  the  current  of  opinion  has  tunuMl  against  former  establish- 
ments, than  we  were  zealous  abettors  while  that  current  continued 
to  set  ill  a  diflereut  direction."^ 

Thus  it  is  that  no  revolution  in  jmblic  opinion  is  the  work  of  an 
individual,  of  a  single  cause,  or  of  a  day.     "When 

Relation  of  the  indi-  ,  ...  •        i      i  i    ' 

.,    ,.        •  1    •  the  crisis  has  arrived,  the  catastroiilie  must  eu- 

YKlii.al  to  socuil  crises.  '  ' 

sue  ;  but  the  agents  through  whom  it  is  appar- 
ently accomplished,  though  they  may  accelerate,  cannot  originate 
its  occurrence.  Who  believes  that  but  for  L.ither  or  Zwingli  the 
Reformation  \\()uld  not  have  been?  Their  individual,  their  per- 
sonal energy  and  zeal,  perhajis,  hastened  by  a  year  or  two  the  event ; 
but  had  the  public  mind  not  been  already  rij)e  for  their  revolt,  the 
fate  of  Luther  and  Zwingli,  in  the  sixteenth  century,  would  have 
been  that  of  IIuss  and  Jerome  of  l*rague  in  the  fifteenth.  Woe  to 
the  revolutionist  who  is  not  himself  a  creature  of  the  revolution  I 
If  he  anticipate,  lie  is  lost;  for  it  requires,  what  no  individual  can 
sujijily,  a  long  and  jtoweri'ul  counter-sympathy  in  a  nation  to  un- 
twine the  ties  of  custom  which  l)iiid  a  i)eople  to  the  established  aud 

1  Pensces,  partie  i.  art.  vi.  §  8,  (vol.  ii.  p.  126,       krd/ln  und  WilUnslcrd/u  ilfs  Mrnschcn,  ii.  32a 
«d.  Faugirc.)  (ed.  IHOC.) 

2  See  Meiners,  Untemuchungen  ilberdie  Denk-  :!  Fcrfrusoii's  Mnml  ami  Pnliliral  Srirnrr,  vol 

i.  part.  i.  cluip.  ii.  5  H,  p.  135. 


62  METAPHYSICS.  LfcCT.  Y 

the  old.     This  is  finely  expressed  by  Schiller,  in  a  soliloquy  from  the 
mouth  of  the  revolutionary  Wallenstein  :  — 

Schiller.         "  What  is  thy  purpose ?    Hast  thou  fairlj' weighed  it? 
Thou  scekest  ev'n  from  its  broad  base  to  shalte 
The  cahn  enthroned  majesty  of  power, 
By  ages  of  possession  consecrate  — 
Firm  rooted  in  tlic  rugged  soil  of  custom  — 
And  witli  the  people's  first  and  fondest  faith. 
As  with  a  thousand  stubborn  tendrils  twined. 
That  were  no  strife  where  strength  contends  with  strength. 
It  is  not  strength  I  fear  —  I  fear  no  foe 
Whom  with  my  bodily  eye  I  see  and  scan; 
Who,  brave  himself,  inflames  my  courage  too. 
It  is  an  unseen  enemy  I  dread, 

Who,  in  the  hearts  of  mankind,  fights  against  me  — 
Fearful  to  me  but  from  his  own  weak  fear. 
Not  that  which  proudly  towers  in  life  and  strength 
Is  truly  dreadful ;  but  the  mean  and  common. 
The  memory  of  the  eternal  yesterday, 
Which,  ever-warning,  ever  still  returns. 
And  weighs  to  morrow,  for  it  weighed  to-day; 
Out  of  the  common  is  man's  nature  framed, 
And  custom  is  the  nurse  to  whom  he  cleaves. 
Woe  then  to  him  whose  daring  hand  profanes 
The  honored  heir-looms  of  his  ancestors! 
There  is  a  consecrating  power  in  time; 
And  what  is  gray  Avith  j^ears  to  man  is  godlike. 
Be  in  possession,  and  thou  art  in  right; 
The  crowd  M^jll  lend  tlicc  nid  to  keep  It  sacred."  i 

This  may  enable  you  to  understand  how  seductive  is  the  influence 
of  example  ;  and  I  .should  have  no  end  were  I  to  quote  to  you  all 
that  philosophers  have  said  of  the  prevalence  and  evil  influence  of 
prejudice  and  o])inion. 

We  have  seen  that  custom  is  called,  by  Pindar  and  Herodotus, 

the  Queen  of  the  World  —  and  the  same  thing 

Testimonies  of  phii-       -^^  exin'osscd  bv  the   adatie  — "Mundus  regitur 

oeophers  to  the  power  .    .       .  ii     \l  r\    •    ■       Vi  ^i  ,. -d  "        i 

of  .^ceived  opinion.  opimonibus.       "Opinion,    says  the  great  Pascal, 

"dis)>oses  of  all  things.  It  constitutes  beauty, 
justice,  haj)piness  ;  and  these  are  the  all  in%ll  of  the  Avorld.  I  would 
with  all  my  heart  see  the  Italian  book  of  which  I  know  only  the 

1   Wallemttein.     (Translated  by  Mr.  George  Moir.)    Act.  i.  scene  4,  p.  15. 


Lect.  V.  METAPHYSICS.  63 

title,  —  a  title,  however,  which  is  itself  worth  many  books  —  Delia 
opinione  regina  del  niondo.  I  subscribe  to  it  implicitly."  ^  "  Cou- 
tume,"  says  Regnier, 

"  C!outuine,  opinion,  rcines  dc  notre  sort, 
Vous  reglcz  des  mortels,  et  la  vie,  et  la  mort!  " 

"  Almost  every  o]nnion  we  have,"  says  the  pious  Charon,  "  we 
have  but  by  authority;  we  believe,  judge,  act,  live  and  die  on  trust, 
as  common  custom  teaches  us;  and  rightly,  for  we  are  too  weak  to 
decide  and  choose  of  ourselves.  But  the  wise  do  not  act  thus."  - 
"  Every  opinion,"  says  Montaigne,  "  is  strong  enough  to  have  had  its 
martyrs;"^  and  Sir  W.  Raleigh  —  "It  is  oj)inion,  not  truth,  that 
travelleth  the  world  without  pass})ort."^  "Opinion,"  says  Heraeii- 
tus,  "is  a  falling  sickness;"'  "and  Luther  —  "O  doxa!  doxa!  quam 
es  communis  noxa."  In  a  word,  as  Honimel  has  it,  "  An  ounce  of 
custom  outweighs  a  ton  of  reason."" 

Such  being  the  recognized  universality  and  evil  effect  of  preju- 
dice, philosophers  have,  consequently,  been  unaii- 
Phiiosopheis  unani-       imous  in  making   doubt  the  first  step  towards 

mous  in  makii)';  doubt  ,  -i  ■,  a     •    .     .1       i  c  i         ^        •      1  • 

,,    ^  ,         r     .  •,        iJhilosoiihy.     Aristotle  has  a  fine  chai)ter  in  his 

the  hrst  step   to  pliil-  . 

osphy.  Metaphysics'  on  the  utility  of  doubt,  and  on  the 

things  which  we  ought  first  to  doubt  of;  and  he 
concludes  by  establishing  that  the  success  of  i)hilosophy  dei>ends  on 
the  art  of  doubting  well.  This  is  even  enjoined  on  us  by  the  Apostle. 
For  in  saying  "Prove"  (which  maybe  more  correctly  translated  tes() 
—  "Test  all  things,"  he  implicitly  commands  us  to  doubt  all  things. 
"  He,"  says  Bacon,  "  who  would  become  philosopher,  must  t-oni- 
mence  by  repudiating:  belief;"  and  he  concludes 

Uacon.  c     i  /•!  •  • 

one  of  the  most  remarkable  jjassages  of  his  writ- 
ings with  the  observation,  that  "  were  there  a  single  man  to  be 
found  with  a  firmuoss  sullicient  to  eftiice  from  his  mind  the  theories 
and  notions  vulgarly  received,  and  to  a))]tly  his  intellect  free  and 
without  prevention,  the  best   hopes    might   be    entertained  of  his 

success."^     "To   philosoi)hize,"  savs   Descartes, 

Descartes.  .  i  i  ■ 

"senouslv,  and  to  cfood  effect,  il  is  necessarv  tor 
a  man  to  renounce  all  prejudices  ;  in  other  words,  to  api)Iy  the  great- 

1  Penscfs,  i)artie  i.  art.  S  vi.  3.  [Vol.  ii.  p.  4  Preface  to  liis  History  o/ihf  IIVW. 

.52,  cd.  Fuiipere.     M.   Fimpere  ha.s  restored  •■;  Piofj.  Laert.  lib.  ix.  5  7. 

tlie  orijiiiial  text  of  Tascal  —  "■•  Im' imagination  <".  [Alex.  v.  .locli  (llommel),  fVr  Belnhnung 

dispose  de  tout.'"     Tlie  ordinary  reading  is  unit  i'fra/>,  p.  111.     See  Krnj;.  Philosopliisrhts 

L'opinion.  — En.]  Lrxi'A-on,  vol.  v.  j).  467.  art.  Grtcohn/ieit .] 

-  Df  la  Sa^fSff,  liv.  i.  cliap.  xvi.  *  Lib.  ii.  c.  1.  —  Kn. 

S  Essais,  liv.  i.  clinp.  xl.  8  "  Xenio  adliuc  tauta  mentis  coustautia  inr 


64  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  V. 

est  care  to  doubt  of  all  his  previous  oj^inions,  so  long  as  these  have 
not  been  subjected  to  a  new  examination,  and  been  recognized  as 
true."'  But  it  is  needless  to  multiply  authorities  in  support  of  so 
obvious  a  truth.  The  ancient  philosophers  refused  to  admit  slaves 
to  their  instruction.  Prejudice  makes  men  slaves;  it  disqualifies 
them  for  the  pursuit  of  truth  ;  and  their  emancipation  from  preju- 
dice is  what  philosoi)hy  first  inculcates  on,  what  it  first  requires  of, 
its  disciples.  ^  Let  us,  however,  beware  that  we  act  not  the  part  of 
revolted  slaves;  that  in  asserting  our  liberty  we  do  not  run  into 
license.     Philosophical  doubt  is  not  an  end  but 

Pliilosopliical  doubt.  ti.ii 

a  mean.  We  doubt  ni  order  that  we  may  be- 
lieve ;  we  begin  that  we  may  not  end  with  doubt.  We  doubt  once 
that  we  may  believe  always  ;  we  renounce  authority  that  Ave  may 
follow  reason  ;  we  surrender  opinion  that  we  may  obtain  knowledge. 
We  must  be  protestants,  not  infidels,  in  philosophy.     "  There  is  a 

great  difference,"  says    Malebranche,  "  between 

Malebnuiche.  -,       ,     ■  i      i       i     .  -rrr         t       i  i  i 

doubting  and  doubtmg. — VV  e  doubt  through 
passion  and  brutality ;  through  blindness  and  malice,  and  finally 
through  fancy  and  from  the  A^ery  Avish  to  doubt ;  but  Ave  doubt  also 
from  prudence  and  through  distrust,  from  Avisdom  and  through 
penetration  of  mind.  The  former  doubt  is  a  doubt  of  darkness, 
which  never  issues  to  the  light,  but  leads  us  always  further  from  it; 
the  latter  is  a  doubt  which  is  born  of  the  light,  and  AAdiich  aids  in  a 
certain  sort  to  produce  light  in  its  turn."  Indeed,  were  the  effect 
of  philoso])hy  the  establishment  of  doubt,  the  remedy  would  be 
Avorse  than  the  dissase.  Doubt,  as  a  permanent  state  of  mind, 
Avould  be,  in  flict,  little  better  than  an  intellectual  death.  The  mind 
lives  as  it  believes,  —  it  lives  in  the  affirmation  of  itself,  of  nature, 
and  of  God  ;  a  doubt  i\pon  any  one  of  these  Avould  be  a  diminution 
of  its  life,  — a  doubt  upon  the  three,  were  it  possible,  Avould  be  tan- 
tamount to  a   mental    annihilation.     It  is  Avell    observed,  by  Mr. 

SteAvart,  "  that  it  is  not  merely  in  order  to  free 

Stewart.  •     i     /»  i        •      » 

the  mmd  from  the  influence  of  error,  that  it  is 
useful  to  examine  the  fouu  lation  of  established  opinions.     It  is  such 


ventus  est,  ut  decreverit,  et  sibi  inii)osuerit,  iilaria  de  integro  applicet,  de  eo  melius  pper- 

theorias  et  iiotiones  communes  peintiis  abo-  andum  est  " — Xat.  Or;?-,  i.  aph.  xcvii. ;  tt'orks, 

lere,  et  intellectum  abrasum  et  a-<|uiim  ad  vol.  ix.  p   252,  (Montagu's  ed.)  See  also  om- 

particularia,  de  integro,  applicare.     Ita<iue  nino  Xov.  Org.  i.  aph.  Ixviii. 

i!la  ratio  Iiumana  quam  habemus,  ex  multa  1  Prin.  Phil,  pars  i.  §  75.     [Cf.  Clauberg, 

tide,  et  multo  etiam  casu,  nee  non  e.K  puerili-  De  Dubitatione  Cartesiana,  cc.  i.  ii.     Opera,  p 

bus.  quas  primo  hausimus,  notionibu.s,  far-  11.31.  —  Elf.] 

rago  quiedam  est,  et  congeries.     Quod  sicjuis  2  [Cf.  Gatien-Arnoult,  Doct.  Phil.,  p.  41.] 

:etate  matura,  et  sensibus  integris,  et  monte  3  Recherche  de  la  V&itc,  liv.  i   chap.  xx.  §  4 

xepurgata,  se  ad  experientiam,  et  ad  partic- 


Lect.    V.  .  METAPHYSICS.  65 

an  examination  alone,  that,  in  an  inquisitive  age  like  the  present, 
can  secure  a  philoso[)her  from  the  d!i!iger  of  unlimited  skepticism. 
To  this  extreme,  indeed,  the  complexion  of  the  times  is  more  likely 
to  give  him  a  tendency,  than  to  implicit  credulity.  In  the  former 
ages  of  ignorance  and  superstition,  the  intimate  association  whicli 
had  been  formed,  in  the  prevailing  systems  of  education,  between 
truth  and  error,  liad  given  to  the  latter  an  ascendant  over  the 
minds  of  men,  which  it  could  never  have  acquired  if  divested  of 
such  an  alliance.  The  case  has,  of  late  years,  been  most  remarkably 
reversed  :  the  common  sense  of  nuinkind,  in  consequence  of  the 
growth  of  a  more  liberal  sjnrit  of  inquiry,  has  revolted  against  many 
of  those  absurdities  which  liad  so  long  held  human  reason  in  captiv- 
ity ;  and  it  Mas,  j»erhaps,  more  than  could  have  been  reasonably  ex- 
pected, that,  in  the  first  moments  of  their  emancipation,  philosoi)hers 
(should  have  stopped  short  at  the  pi-ecise  boundary  which  cooler  re- 
flection and  more  moderate  views  would  have  prescribed.  The  foct 
is,  that  they  have  passed  far  beyond  it ;  and  that,  in  their  zeal  to 
destroy  pi'ojudices,  they  have  attempted  to  tear  up  by  the  roots 
many  of  the  best  and  happiest  and  most  essential  principles  of  our 
nature.  That  imj^licit  credulity  is  a  mark  of  a  feeble  mind,  will  not 
be  disputed  ;  but  it  may  not,  perhaps,  be  as  generally  acknowledged, 
that  the  case  is  the  same  with  unlimited  skepticism  :  on  the  contrary, 
we  are  sometimes  apt  to  ascribe  this  disposition  to  a  more  than 
ordinary  vigor  of  intellect.  Such  a  prejudice  was  by  no  means 
umiatura],  at  that  period  in  the  history  of  modern  Europe,  when 
reason  first  began  to  throw  off  the  yoke  of  authority,  and  when  it 
unquestionably  required  a  superiority  of  understanding,  as  Avell  as 
of  intrepidity,  for  an  individual  to  resist  the  contagion  of  prevailing 
superstition.  But,  in  tlic  present  age,  in  wliich  the  tendency  of 
fashionable  oi)inions  is  directly  opposite  to  those  of  the  vulgar,  the 
philosophical  creed,  or  the  philosopliical  skei)ticism,  of  by  far  the 
greater  number  of  those  Avho  value  themselves  on  an  emancii)ation 
from  ])opular  errors,  arises  from  the  very  same  weakness  witli  the 
credulity  of  tlie  multitude  ;  nor  is  it  going  too  far  to  say,  with  lious- 
seau,  that  'he  who,  in  the  end  of  the  eighteentli  century,  lias 
brought  liiiiisclf  to  abandon  all  his  early  ])rincipk's  without  discrim- 
ination, would  ]>robal)ly  liave  been  a  liigut  in  the  days  of  the 
Leacrue.''  In  tiic  midst  of  these  contrarv  imiudses  of  fashionable 
and  vulgar  ]ii-c)UiruH's,  lie  alone  evinces  the  suju'riority  and  tlie 
strength  of  his  mind,  who  is  able  to  disentangle  trutli  from  error; 
and  to  op]>ose  the  clear  conclusions  of  liis  own  unbiassed  faculties 
to  the  united  clamors  of  superstition  and  of  false  ])]iilosoj>hy. 
Such  are  the  men  whom  nature  marks  out  to  be  the  lights  of  the 

9 


66  METAPHYSICS.  ,  Lect.  V. 

world ;  to  fix  the  wavering  opinions  of  the  multitude,  and  to  im- 
press their  own  characters  on  that  of  their  age.  "^ 

In  a  word,  philosophy  is,  as  Aristotle  has  justly  expressed  it,  not 
the    art   of  doubting,  but   the  art  of  doubting: 

Aristotle.  „  „  °  =>■ 

well.- 
In  the  second  place,  in  obedience  to  the  precept  of  Socrates,  the 
passions,  under  which  we   shall   include   sloth.. 

Second       practical         ^       .^^  ^^^  ^^  Subjugated, 
condition,—  subjuga-  . 

tion  of  the  passions.  ^hesc  ruffle  the  tranquillity  of  the  mmd,  and 

consequently  deprive  it  of  the  jiower  of  carefully 
considering  all  that  the  solution  of  a  question  requires  should  be 
examined.  A  man  under  the  agitation  of  any  lively  emotion,  is 
hardly  aware  of  aught  but  Avhat  has  immediate  relation  to  the  pas- 
sion which  agitates  and  engrosses  him.  Among  the  aftections  which 
influence  the  will,  and  induce  it  to  adhere  to  skepticism  or  error, 

there  is  none  more  dangerous  than  sloth.     The 

Sloth.  .  n  ^   •      1  .        ,.  -, 

greater  proportion  ot  mankind  are  inclined  to 
spare  themselves  the  trouble  of  a  long  and  laborious  inquiry ;  or 
they  fancy  that  a  superficial  examination  is  enough  ;  and  the  slight- 
est agreement  between  a  few  objects,  in  a  few  petty  points,  they  at 
once  assume  as  evincing  the  correspondence  of  the  whole  throughout 
Others  apply  themselves  exclusively  to  the  matters  which  it  is  ab- 
solutely necessary  for  them  to  know,  and  take  no  account  of  any 
oj^inion  but  that  which  they  have  stumbled  on,  —  for  no  other  rea- 
son than  that  they  have  embraced  it,  and  are  unwilling  to  recom- 
mence the  labor  of  learning.  They  receive  their  opinion  on  the 
authority  of  tliose  who  have  had  suggested  to  them  their  own  ;  and 
they  are  always  facile  scholars,  for  the  slightest  probability  is,  foi- 
them,  all  the  evidence  J,hat  they  require. 

Pride  is  a  powerful  impediment  to  a  progress- 
in  knowledge.  Under  the  influence  of  this  pas- 
sion, men  seek  honor,  but  not  truth.  They  do  not  cultivate  what  is 
most  valuable  in  reality,  but  what  is  most  valuable  in  opinion^ 
They  disdain,  perhaps,  what  can  be  easily  accomplished,  and  apply 
themselves  to  the  obscure  and  recondite  ;  but  as  the  vulgar  and 
easy  is  the  foundation  on  which  the  rare  and  ai'duous  is  built,  they 
fail  even  in  attaining  the  object  of  their  ambition,  and  remain  with 
only    a  farrago    of  confused   and   ill-assorted   notions.     In    all   its 


1  Coll.  Works,  vol.  ii.;  Elements,  vol.  i.  book  ^  y^p  {ia-rtpov  eviropia  \v(tls  twv  nrpSrepot 
ii.  }  1,  p.  68,  et  seq.  aTropovfjLfvwv  ftTTi,  \vfii/  5'  oitK  fCTTiv  ayvo~ 

2  Metaph.  ii.  1.    "Eo-tj    5e   rois   (inropriaai  ovvras  rbf  Stafj.ov.  —  KD. 
PovKofxtyoiS  irpotipyov  rh  Siatropriaai  Ka\ws' 


Lect.  V.  METAPHYSICS.  67 

phases,  self-love  is  an  enemy  to  philosophical  progress ;  and  the  his- 
tory of  ])hilosophy  is  filled  with  the  illusions  of  which  it  has  been 
the  source.  On  the  one  side,  it  lias  led  men  to  close  their  eyes 
against  the  most  evident  truths  which  were  not  in  harmony  with 
their  adopted  opinions.  It  is  said  that  there  was  not  a  j^hysician  in 
Europe,  above  the  age  of  forty,  who  would  admit  Harvey's  discovery 
of  the  circulation  of  the  blood.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  finely  ob- 
served by  Bacon,  that  "  the  eye  of  human  intellect  is  not  dry,  but 
receives  a  suffusion  from  the  will  and  from  the  affections,  so  that  it 
may  almost  be  said  to  engender  any  sciences  it  pleases.  For  what 
a  man  wishes  to  be  true,  that  he  prefers  believing." '  And,  in 
another  place,  "if  the  hum'an  intellect  hath  once  taken  a  liking  to 
any  doctrine,  either  because  received  and  credited,  or  because  other- 
wise pleasing,  —  it  draws  everything  else  into  harmony  with  that 
doctrine,  and  to  its  support ;  and  albeit  there  may  be  found  a  more 
powerful  array  of  contradictory  instances,  these,  however,  it  eitner 
does  not  observe,  or  it  contemns,  or  by  distinction  exte^tuates  and 
rejects."^ 

1  Vov.  Org.Ub  i.  aph.zlix  *  ^^  xlvi 


LECTURE    YI. 

THE    METHOD    OF    PHILOSOPHY. 

The  next  question  we  proceed  to  consider  is,  —  What  is  the 
true  Method  or  Methods  of  Pliilosopli^'? 

There  is  only  one  possible  method  in  ])hilosophy;  and  what  have 
been  called  the  different  methods  of  different  philosophers,  vary 
from  each  other  only  as  more  or  less  perfect  applications  of  this 
one  Method  to  the  objects  of  knowledge. 

All  method  1  is  a  rational  progress, —  a  progress  towards  an  end; 

and  the  method  of  philosophy  is  tlie  procedure 

et  o    a  progress       conducive  to   the    end  which    i)hilosoi)hv  pi'o- 

towards  an  end.  '■  i     j     i 

poses.  The  ends,  —  the  final  causes  of  i>hiloso- 
phy,  —  as  we  have  seen,  —  are  two;  —  first,  the  discovery  of  efti- 
cient  causes;  secondly,  the  generalization  of  our  knowledge  into 
unity;  —  two  ends,  however,  which  foil  together  into  one,  inas- 
mucli  as  the  higher  we  isroceed  in  the  discovery  of  causes,  we 
necessarily  approximate  more  and  more  to  unity.  The  detection 
of  the  one  in  the  many  might,  therefore,  be  laid  down  as  the  end 

to  which  philosoj)hy,  though  it  can  never  reach 

'***"r,  ^    ^   .**        it,  tends  continually  to  approximate.     But,  con- 
one  possible  method.  _        _  ^  i  i  > 

sidjering  philosophy  in  relation  to  both  these 
ends,  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  you  that  it  has  only  one  j^ossible 
method. 

Considering  philosophy,  in  the  first  place,  in  relation  to  its  first 

end,  —  the  discovery  of  causes,  —  we  hav6  seen 

•rins  shown  in  reia-       ^^^^^  ^.^  (taking  that  term  as  svnonymous 

tion  to  the  first  end  of  i,        •   ,  ,  •    ,       ,  ^ 

Philosophy.  ^^^'  '^'^  Without  winch  the  effect  would  not  be,) 

are  only  the  coefficients  of  the  effect ;  an  effect 
being  nothing  more  than  the  sum  or  complement  of  all  the  partial 
causes,  the  concurrence  of  which  constitute  its  existence.  This 
being  the  case,  —  and  as  it  is  only  by  experience  that  we  discover 


1  [On  the  difference   between  Order  and  post  aliam;  Methodus  ut  unam  per  aliam." 

Method,   see    J'acciolati,    Rudimenta  Lo^icer.,  Cf.  Zabarella,  O/).  Log.,  pp.  139,  149,  223,  225; 

parsiv.  c.  i.  note:  "  Methodus  differt  ab  Or-  Molinseus,  Log.,  p.  234  et  seq.  p.  244  et  seq.,  ed. 

dine;  quia  ordo  facit  ut  rem  unam  discamus  1613.] 


Lect.  VI.  METAPHYSICS.  69 

what  particular  causes  must  conspire  to  produce  siich  or  such  an 
effect, —  it  follows,  that  nothing  can  become  known  to  us  as  a  cause 
except  in  and  through  its  effect;  in  other  words,  that  we  can  only 
attain  to  the  knowledge  of  a  cause  by  extracting  it  out  of  its  effect. 
To  take  the  example,  we  formerly  employed,  of  a  neutral  salt. 
This,  as  I  observed,  was  made  up  by  the  conjunction  of  three 
proximate  causes, — viz.  an  acid,  —  an  alkali,  —  and  the  force  which 
brought  the  alkali  and  the  acid  into  the  recpxisite  aj^proximation. 
This  last,  as  a  transitory  condition,  and  not  always  the  same,  we 
shall  throw  out  of  account.  Xow,  though  we  might  know  the 
acid  and  the  alkali  in  themselves  as  distinct  pha?nomena,  we  could 
never  know  them  as  the  concurrent  causes  of  the  salt,  unless  m'o 
had  known  the  salt  as  their  effect.  And  though,  in  this  example, 
it  hapj)ens  that  we  are  able  to  compose  the  effect  by  the  union  of 
its  causes,  and  to  decompose  it  by  their  separation,  —  this  is  only 
an  accidental  circumstance ;  for  the  far  greater  numbei-  of  the 
objects  presented  to  our  observation,  can  only  be  decompose<l, 
but  not  actually  recomposed,  and  in  those  Avhich  can  be  recom- 
posed,  this  possibility  is  itself  only  the  result  of  a  knowledge  of 
the  causes  previously  obtained  by  an  original  decomposition  of  the 
effect. 

In  so  far,  therefore,  as  philosophy  is  the  research  of  causes,  the 
one  necessary  condition  of  its  possibility  is  the 

Analysis.  ••««>  •  i.  '• 

decomposition  or  effects  into  their  constituted 
causes.  This  is  the  fundamental  procedure  of  philosophy,  and  ig 
called  by  a  Greek  term  Analysis.  But  though  analysis  be  the 
fundamental  ])rocedure,  it  is  still  only  a  mean  towards  an  eii<^ 
We  analyze  only  that  we  may  comprehend ;  and  we  comju-eheii 
only  inasmuch  as  we  are  able  to  reconstruct  in  thought  the  com- 
plex effects  Avhich  we  have  analyzed  into  their  elements.  This 
mental  reconstruction  is,  therefore,  the  final,  the  c«»iisuminative 
procedure  of  philosophy,  and  it  is  familiarly  known  by  the  (Tieek 

term  Sunthesls.    Analysis  and  svnthesis,  thouiih 

Synthesis.  '  • 

commonly  treated  as  two  different  methods,  arc, 
if  properly  understood,  only  the  two  necessary  parts  of  the  same 
method.  Each  is  the  relative  and  the  correlative  of  the  other. 
Analysis,  without  a  subse<pient  synthesis,  is  incomplete ;  it  is  a 
mean  cut  off  from  its  end.  Synthesis,  without  a  j)revious  analysis, 
is  baseless;  for  synthesis  receives  from  analysis  tlie  elements  which 
it  recomposes.  And,  as  synthesis  su|)p(»ses  analysis  as  the  pre- 
requisite of  its  possibility,  —  so  it  is  also  dependent  on  analysis  for 
the  (|ualities  of  its  existence.  The  value  of  every  s}'Tithesis  de- 
pends uj)on  the  value  of  the  foregoing  analysis.     Tf  the  precedent 


70  METAPHYSICS  Lkct.  VL 

analysis  afford  false  elements,  the  subsequent  synthesis  of  these 
elements  will  necessarily  afford  a  false  result.  If  the  elements 
furnished  by  analysis  are  assumed,  and  not  really  discovered,  —  in 
other  words,  if  they  be  hypothetical,  the  synthesis  of  these  hypo- 
thetical elements  Avill  constitute  only  a  conjectural  theory.  The 
legitimacy  of  every  synthesis  is  thus  necessarily  dej)endent  on  the 
legitimacy  of  the  analysis  which  it  pre-sujij^oses,  and  on  which  it 
founds. 

These  two  relative  procedures  are  thus  equally  necessary  to  each 
other.     On  the  one  hand,  analysis  without  syn- 

Constitute  a   single         ^i       •       n-      i  i  i  i  • 

thesis  aftords  only  a  commenced,  only  an  incom- 

method.  ■'  .         . 

l)lete,  knowledge.  On  the  other,  synthesis  with- 
out analysis  is  a  false  knowledge, —  that  is,  no  knowledge  at  all. 
Both,  therefore,  are  absolutely  necessary  to  ])hilosophy,  and  both 
are,  in  philosophy,  as  much  parts  of  the  same  method  as,  in  the 
animal  body,  inspiration  and  expiration  are  of  the  same  vital  func- 
tion. But  though  these  operations  are  each  requisite  to  the  other, 
yet  were  we  to  distinguish  and  compare  what  ought  only  to  be 
considered  as  conjoined,  it  is  to  analysis  that  the  preference  must 
be  accorded.  An  analysis  is  always  valuable ;  for  though  now 
without  a  synthesis,  this  synthesis  may  at  any  time  be  added ; 
whereas  a  synthesis  without  a  previous  analysis  is  radically  and 
ab  initio  null. 

So  far,  therefore,  as  regards  the  first  end  of  philosophy,  or  the 
discovery  of  causes,  it  appears  that  there  is  only  one  possible 
method,  —  that  method  of  which  analysis  is  the  foundation,  syn- 
thesis the  completion.  In  the  second  place,  considering  philosophy 
Vi  relation  to  its  second  end,  the  carrying  up  our  knowledge  into 
unity, — the  same  is  equally  apparent. 

,  Everything  presented  to  our  observation,  whether  external  or 
internal,  whether  through  sense  or  self-conscious- 

Oniy  one  possible       ness,  is  presented  in  complexity.    Through  sense,, 

method  shown  in  rela-         ^i  -,  .      ^  -,  .,  •!•  ^^•^      i 

..     ^  ..  ^     ,       the  obiects  crowd  upon  the  mmd  ni  multitudes, 

non  to  the  second  end  j  i  ' 

of  Philosophy.  and   each   sejiarate   individual   of  these   multi- 

tudes is  itself  a  congeries  of  many  various  qual- 
ities. The  same  is  the  case  with  the  phaanomena  of  self-conscious- 
ness. Every  modification  of  mind  is  a  complex  state;  and  the 
different  elements  of  each  state,  manifest  themselves  only  in  and 
through  each  other.  Thus,  nothing  but  multiplicity  is  ever  pre- 
sented to  our  observation;  and  yet  our  .faculties  are  so  limited 
that  they  are  able  to  comprehend  at  once  only  the  very  simplest 
conjunctions:  There  seems,  therefore,  a  singular  disproportion 
between  our  powers  of  knowledge  and  the  objects  to  be  known. 


Lect.   VI.  METAPHYSICS.  71 

How  is  the  equilibrium  to  be  restored  ?  This  is  the  great  jirobleni 
proposed  by  nature,  and  whicli  analysis  and  synthesis,  in  combina- 
tion, enable  us  to  solve.  For  example,  I  perceive  a  tree,  anion l; 
other  objects  of  an  extensive  landscape,  and  I  wish  to  obtain  a  full 
and  distinct  concepti(jn  of  that  tree.  What  ought  I  to  do?  JJirlJr 
et  impera:  I  must  attend  to  it  by  itself,  that  is,  to  the  exclusion 
of  the  other  constituents  of  tlie  scene  before  me.  I  thus  analyze 
that  scene ;  I  separate  a  petty  portion  of  it  from  the  rest,  in  order 
to  consider  that  portion  apart.  But  this  is  not  enoiigh,  the  tree 
itself  is  not  a  unity,  but,  on  the  contrary,  a  com])lex  assemblage 
of  elements,  far  beyond  what  my  powers  can  master  at  once. 
I  must  <'nrrv  mv  analvsis  still  farther.  Accordincflv,  I  consider 
successively  its  height,  its  breadth,  its  shape ;  T  then  proceed  to 
its  trunk,  rise  irom  that  to  its  branches,  and  follow  out  its  different 
ramifications;  I  now  i;\  my  attention  on  the  leaves,  and  severally 
^ixamine  their  form,  color,  etc.  It  is  only  after  having  thus,  by 
analysis,  detached  all  these  parts,  in  order  to  deal  with  thcin  one 
by  one,  that  I  am  able,  by  reversing  the  process,  fully  to  compre- 
hend them  again  in  a  series  of  synthetic  acts.  By  synthesis,  rising 
from  the  ultimate  analysis  step  by  step,  I  view  the  parts  in  relation 
to  each  other,  and,  finally,  to  the  whole  of  which  they  are  the 
^constituents;  I  reconstruct  tbem  ;  and  it  is  onlv  throuiih  these  two 
counter-processes  of  analvsis  and  synthesis  that  I  am  able  to  con- 
vert  the  confused  perception  of  the  tree,  which  I  obtained  at  fii-st 
sight,  into  a  clear,  and  distinct,  and  comprehensive  knowledge.^ 

But  if  analysis  and  synthesis  be  required  to  afford  us  a  perfect 
knowle<lge  even  of  one  individual  object  of  sense,  still  more  are 
they  re(]uired  to  enable  the  mind  to  reduce  an  indefinite  multitude 
of  objects,  —  the  infinitude,  we  may  say,  of  nature,  —  to  the  limits 
of  its  oAvn  finite  comj^reliension.  To  accomplish  this,  it  is  requisite 
to  extract  the  one  out  of  the  niany,  and  thus  to  recall  multitude 
to  unity,  —  confusion  to  order.  And  how  is  this  jx-i-formed?  The 
one  in  the  many  being  that  in  which  a  j>lurality  of  objects  agree, — 
or  that  in  which  they  may  be  considered  as  the  sume;  and  the 
agreement  of  objects  in  any  common  (|UMlity  being  discoverable 
only  by  :ni  (»bs»>rvati(>n  and  CDniparison  of  tlic  ol)jccts  themselves, 
it  follows  tliat  a  knowledge  of  the  one  can  only  be  evolved  out  of 
a  foregoing  knowled<;e  of  tlie  man  v.  But  this  evolution  can  onlv 
be  accomplished  by  an  analysis  and  a  synthesis.  I5y  .inalysis,  from 
the  infinity  of  objects  presente<l  to  our  observation,  we  select  some 
These  we  consider  ajxirt,  .md,  further,   only  in    certain    points  ot 

1  lOnthe  subject  of  analysis  and  synthesis,  compare  Condillac,  Locr'l"^,  cc.  i   ii.) 


72  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.   VI. 

view, — .111(1  we  compare  these  objects  with  others  also  considered 
in  the  same  points  of  view.  So  far  the  procedure  is.  analytic. 
Having  discovered,  liowever,  by  this  observation  and  comparison, 
that  certain  objects  agree  in  certain  respects,  we  generalize  the 
qualities  in  which  they  coincide,  —  that  is,  from  a  certain  number 
of  individual  instances  we  infer  a  general  law ;  we  perform  what 

is  called  an  act  of  Induction.     This  induction  is 

Induction.  .  .... 

erroneously  viewed  as  analytic;  it  is  purely  a 
synthetic  process.^  For  example,  from  our  experience,  —  and  all 
experience,  be  it  that  of  the  individual  or  of  mankind,  is  only 
finite,  —  from  our  limited  ex2)erience,  I  say,  that  bodies,  as  observed 
by  us,  attract  each  other,  we  infer  by  induction  the  unlimited  con- 
clusion that  all  bodies  gravitate  towards  each  other.  Now,  hero 
the  consequent  contains  much  more  than  was  contained  in  the 
antecedent.  Experience,  the  antecedent,  only  says,  and  only  can 
say,  this,  that,  and  the  other  body  gravitate,  (that  is,  some  bodies 
gravitate)  ;  the  consequent  educed  from  that  antecedent,  says, — ■ 
all  bodies  gravitate.  The  antecedent  is  limited,  —  the  consequent 
unlimited.  Something,  therefore,  has  been  added  to  the  antecedent 
in  order  to  legitimate  the  inference,  if  we  are  not  to  hold  the  con- 
sequent itself  as  absurd ;  for,  as  you  will  hereafter  learn,  no  con- 
clusion must  contain  more  than  was  contained  in  the  premises 
from  which  it  is  drawn.  What  then  is  the  something.^  If  we 
considc'r  the  inductive  jarocess,  this  will  be  at  once  apparent. 

The  affirmation,  this,  that,  and  the  other,  body  gravitate,  is  con- 
nected with  tlie  affirmation,  all  bodies  gravitate,  only  by  inserting 
between  the  two  a  third  affirmation,  by  which  the  two  other  affirma- 
tions are  connected  into  reason  and  consequent,  —  that  is,  into  a 
logical  cause  and  effect.  What  that  is  I  shall  explain.  All  scien- 
tific induction  is  foufided  on  the  presumption  that  nature  is  uniform 
in  her  operations.  Of  the  ground  and  origin  of  this  presumption, 
I  am  not  now  to  s^3cak.  I  shall  only  say,  that,  as  it  is  a  principle 
which  we  suppose  in  all  our  inductions,  it  cannot  be  itself  a  product 
of  induction.  It  is.  therefore,  interpolated  in  the  inductive  reason- 
ing by  the  mind  itself.  In  our  example  the  reasoning  will,  at^'ord- 
ingly,  run  as  follows : 

This,  that,  and  the  other  body,  (some  bodies,)  are  observed  to 
gi-avitate ; 


1  It  may  be  ccnsidered  as  the  one  or  the  simpler  an(ll  more  convenient  point  of  view: 

other,  according  as  the  wiiole  and  its  parts  and  in  this  respect  induction  is  properly  syn- 

«re  viewed  in  the  relations  of  comprehension  tlietic.     See  the  Author's  i>(\.sci(Siio«5,  p.  173. 

or  of  extension.    The  latter,  however,  is  the  — Ed. 


Lkct;  YI.  METAl'IIYSICS.  7S 

But,  (as  nature  is  uniform  in  lier  operations,)  this,  that,  and  the 
other  body-,  (some  bodies,)  represent  all  bodies,  — 

Therefore  all  bodies  gravitate. 

Now,  in  this  and  other  exanijdes  of  induction,  it  is  the  mind 
.Avhich  binds  up  the  separate  substances  observed  and  collected 
into  a  whole,  and  converts  what  is  only  the  observation  of  many 
particulars  into  a  universal  law.  This  i)rocedure  is  manifestly  syn- 
thetic. 

Now,  you  will  remark  that  analysis  and  synthesis  are  here  abso- 
lutely dependent  on  each  other.  The  previous  observation  and 
comparison,  —  the  analytic  foundation,  —  are  only  instituted  for 
the  sake  of  the  subsequent  induction,  —  the  synthetic  consumma- 
tion. What  boots  it  to  observe  and  to  compare,  if  the  uniformities 
we  discover  among  objects  are  never  generalized  into  laws  ?  We 
have  obtained  an  historical,  but  not  a  philosophical  knowledge. 
Here,  therefore,  analysis  without  synthesis  is  incomi>lete.  On  the 
other  hand,  an  induction  which  does  not  proceed  upon  a  compe- 
tent enumeration  of  particulars,  is  either  doubtful,  improbable,  or 
null;  for  all  synthesis  is  dependent  on  a  foi*egone  analysis  for 
whatever  degree  of  certainty  it  may  pretend  to.  Thus,  considering 
philosophy  in  relation  to  its  second  end,  unity  or  system,  it  is  mani- 
fest that  the  method  by  which  it  accomplishes  that  end,  is  a  method 
involvimr  both  an  analvtic  and  a  svnthetic  process. 

Now,  as  philosophy  has  only  one  possible  method,  so  the   His- 
tory of  philosophy  only  manifests  the  conditions 

The  history  of  phi-       ^f  ^]^jg  q,-,^  method,  more  or  less  accurately  ful- 

losonliv  manifests  the  „,,     ,         r^n  i_  i-  •        ^i  il       1 

'  •    ,  filled.     There  arc  aberrations  in  tlie  method, — 

tiiore  or  less  accurate 

fuiHiment  of  thecon-       no  aberrations  from  it. 

<iitioiis   of  the    one  "  Philoso{)hy  commenced  with  tlie  first  act  of 

•^'''"""^-  reflection   on   the  objects  of  sense  or  self-con- 

Karliest  i)r<)l)l(ni  ol  "  />  i    •     •  t 

i.hiiosophy  sciousness,  for  the  ])urpose  of  explauung  them. 

And  with  that  first  act  of  reflection,  the  method 
of  philosophy  began,  in  its  ap]>lication  of  an  analysis,  and  in  i».v 
application  of  a  synthesis,  to  its  object.  The  first  pliilosophers 
naturally  endeavored  to  explain  the  enigma  <>f  external  nature. 
The  magnificent  spectacle  of  the  material  universe,  and  the  mar- 
vellous demonstrations  of  j>ower  and  Misdom  which  it  c/erywhere 
exhibited,  were  the  objects  whicli  cMlIi-d  forth  the  earliest  efforts 
of  speculation.  Philosoj)hy  was  thus,  at  its  (•(.iiimenc(Mneii.,  phys- 
ical, not  ])sycholouic:il  ;  it  was  imt  the  prulih'iii  dftli.'  roul,  but 
the  ])rol)lem  of  the  world,  which   it  first  atti-mpfed   to  80)\e. 

'•Atid  what  was  tlie  procedure  of  ])liili>sophy  in  its  tjolution  of 
this  j)r<)bh"nr:'     Diil  it   first  decompose  t!ie  whok-  into  its  parts,  in 

](> 


74  METAPHYSICS.  LecT.  VL 

order  again  to  reconstruct  tliem  into  a  system  V  This  it  could  not 
accomplish ;  but  still  it  attempted  this,  and  nothing  else.  A  com- 
plete analysis  was  not  to  be  expected  from  the  first  efforts  of  intel- 
ligence; its  decompositions  were  necessarily  partial  and  imperfect; 
a  ]>artial  and  imperfect  analysis  afforded  only  hypothetical  ele- 
ments; and  the  synthesis  of  these  elements  issued,  consequently, 
only  in  a  one-sided  or  ei'roneous  theory. 

"  Thales,  the  founder  of  the  Ionian  j)hilosoi)hy,  devoted  an 
especial  study  to  the  phenomena  of  the  mate- 

Thales  and  the  Ionic  •    i  •  j       ^        i         '^1     ^i  „ 

rial  universe ;  and,  struck  with  the  appearances 
of  power  which  water  manifested  in  the  forma- 
tion of  bodies,  he  analyzed  all  existences  into  this  element,  which 
he  viewed  as  the  universal  principle,  —  the  universal  agent  of  cre- 
ation. He  proceeded  by  an  incomplete  analysis,  and  generalized 
by  hypothesis  the  law  which  he  drew  by  induction  from  the  obser- 
vation of  a  small  series  of  phaenomena. 

"The  Ionic  school  continued  in  the  same  jiatli.  They  limited 
themselves  to  the  study  of  external  nature,  and  sought  in  matter 
the  ]>rinciple  of  existence.  Anaximander  of  Miletus,  the  country- 
man and  disciple  of  Thales,  deemed  that  he  had  traced  the  primary 
cause  of  creation  to  an  ethereal  principle,  which  occupied  space, 
and  whose  different  combinations  constituted  the  universe  of  mat- 
ter. Anaximenes  found  the  original  element  in  air,  from  which, 
by  rarefaction  and  condensation,  he  educed  existences.  Anaxa- 
goras  carried  his  analysis  farther,  and  made  a  more  discreet  use 
of  hypothesis;  he  rose  to  the  conception  of  an  intelligent  first 
cause,  distinct  from  the  phaenomena  of  nature ;  and  his  notion  of 
the  Deity  was  so  far  above  the  gross  conceptions  of  his  contempo- 
raries, that  he  was  accused  of  atheism. 

"Pythagoras,  the  founder  of  the  Italic  school,  analyzed  the  jiroper- 
ties  of  number;    and   the  relations  which  this 

\t  iagora.s  an.  t  ic       aualvsis  revealed,  he  elevated  into  principles  of 

Italic  Scliool.  "  .  .  ^  '  . 

the  mental  and  material  universe.  Mathematics 
were  his  only  objects ;  his  analysis  was  partial,  and  his  synthesis 
was  consecpiently  hypothetical.  The  Italic  school  developed  the 
notions  of  Pythagoras,  and,  exclusively  preoccupied  with  the  rela- 
tions and  harmonies  of  existence,  its  disciples  did  not  extend  their 
.sjieeulation  to  the  consideration  either  of  substance  or  of  cause. 

"  Thus,  these  earlier  schools,  taking  external  nature  for  theit 
point  of  departure,  proceeded  by  an  imperfect  analysis,  and  a  pre- 
sumptuous synthesis,  to  the  construction  of  exclusive  systems, — 
in  which  Idealism,  or  Materialism,  preponderated,  according  to  the 
kind  of  data  on  which  thev  founded 


Lect.  VI.  METAPHYSICS.  75 

"The  Eleatic  school,  which  is  distinguishcrl  into  two  branches, 
the  one  of  Physical,  the  other  of  Metai)hysical, 
speculation,  exhibits  the  same  character,  the 
same  point  of  departure,  the  same  tendency,  and  the  same  errors. 

"These  errors  led  to  the  skepticism  of  the  Sophists,  which  was 
assailed  by  Socrates, — the  sage  who  determined 

The  Sophiste.     Soc-  ,.  ,.,  ,,         ,.        ,.  , 

a  new  e})och  in  philosophy  by  directmg  obser- 
vation on  man  himself,  and   henceforward  the 
study  of  mind  becomes  the  prime  and  central  science  of  philosoj)hy. 
"  The  point  of  departure  was  changed,  but  not  the  method.     The 
observation  or  analysis  of  the  human  mind,  thougli  often  profound, 
remained   always    incomplete.      Fortunately,  the   first   disci])k'S   of 
Socrates,  imitating  the  prudence  of  their  master,  and  warned  by 
the  downfldl  of  the  systems  of  the  Ionic,  Italic,  and  Eleatic  schools, 
made  a  sparing  use  of  synthesis,  and  hardly  a  pretension  to  system. 
"  Plato   and   Aristotle   directed   their   observation   on   the  pha3- 
nomena    of   intelligence,    and   we    caimot    too 

riuto  and  Aristotle.         ,.,,  i.  i^        n       t  n     ^     •  -i      • 

highly  admire  the  proiundity  or  their  analysis, 
and  even  the  sobriety  of  their  synthesis.  Plato  devoted  himself 
more  [)articularly  to  the  higher  faculties  of  intelligence ;  and  his 
disciples  were  led  by  the  love  of  generalization,  to  regard  as  the 
intellectual  Avhole,  those  portions  of  intelligence  which  their  master 
had  analyzed ;  and  this  exclusive  spirit  gave  birth  to  systems  false, 
not  in  themselves,  but  as  resting  upon  a  too  narrow  basis.  Aris- 
totle, on  the  other  hand,  whose  genius  was  of  a  more  ])Ositive 
chai-acter,  analyzed  with  admirable  acuteness  those  operations  of 
mind  which  stand  in  more  immediate  relation  to  the  senses ;  and 
this  tendency,  which  among  his  followers  became  often  exclusive 
and  exaggerated,  naturally  engendered  systems  whicli  more  or  less 
tended  to  materialism." ' 

The  school  of  Alexandria,  in  which  the  systems  resulting  from 

those  opposite  tendencies  were  combined,  en- 

,  .  deavorcd  to  reconcile  and  to  luse  them  into  a 

.ina. 

still  more  comprehensive  system.  Eclecticisnu 
—  conciliation,  —  union,  were,  in  all  things,  the  grand  aim  of  tlu' 
Alexandrian  school.  Geographically  situated  between  Greeci'  antl 
Asia,  it  e'ndeavored  to  ally  Greek  with  Asiatic  genius,  religion  with 
philos(^phy.       lli'iicc    the    Xeoplatonic    systt-m.    of  which    the    last 

great    it  pi cscntativi'    is    Proclus.      This   system 

is  the  result   of  the  long  labor  of  the   Socratic 

schools.     It  is  an  edifice  reared  by  synthesis  out  of  the  materialji 


1  G6ruzez.  rfotivfttu  Coinx  df  P/iilosophie.  p.  4-8.    Paris,  If&i,  (2d  e«l.| 


76  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  Vt 

Avhich  analysis  had  collected,  proved,  and  accumulated,  from  Soc 
rates  down  to  Plotinus. 

But  a  synthesis  is  of  no  greater  value  than  its  relative  analysis; 
and  as  the  analysis  of  the  earlier  Greek  philosophy  was  not  com- 
))lete,  the  synthesis  of  the  Alexandrian  school  Avas  necessarily  im- 
perfect. 

In  the  scholastic  philosophy,  analysis  and  observation  were  too 

often   neglected   in   some  departments   of  phi- 

The  Scholastic  Phi-       losophv,  and  too  often  carried  rashly  to  excess 

losophy.  , 

in  Others. 
After  the  revi\  al  of  letters,  during  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth 
centuries,  the  labors  of  philosophy  were   prin- 
Phiiosophy   from       ^.j     .j^^   occupied   in    restoring    and    illustrating 

the  revival   of  letters.  A        ,  i    •  m      , 

the  Greek  systems;    and  it  was  not  until  the 
seventeenth    century,  that  a   new  epoch  was   determined  by   the 

genius  of  Bacon  and  Descartes.     In  Bacon  and 
Bacon  and  De.car-       j)q^^..^^,^q^  Q^,y  luodeni  philosophy  may  be  said 

to  originate,  inasmuch  as  they  were  the  first 
who  made  the  doctrine  of  method  a  principal  object  of  considera- 
tion. They  both  proclaimed,  that,  for  the  attainment  of  scientific 
knowledge,  it  is  necessary  to  observe  Avith  care,  —  that  is,  to  an- 
alyze; to  reject  every  element  as  hypothetical,  which  this  analysis 
does  not  spontaneously  afibrd;  to  call  in  experiment  in  aid  of 
observation ;  and  to  attempt  no  synthesis  or  generalization,  until 
the  relative  analysis  has  been  completely  accomplished.  They 
showed  that  previous  philosophers  had  erred,  not  by  rejecting 
either  analysis  or  synthesis,  but  by  hurrying  on  to  synthetic  induc- 
tion from  a  limited  or  specious  analytic  observation.  They  pro- 
])ounded  no  new  method  of  philosophy,  they  only  expounded  the 
conditions  of  the  old.  They  showed  that  these  conditions  had 
rarely  been  fulfilled  by  philosophers  in  time  past ;  and  exhorted 
them  to  their  fulfilment  in  time  to  come.  They  thus  explained 
the  petty  progress  of  the  past  philosophy;  —  and  justly  antici2)ate(7 
a  gigantic  advancement  for  the  future.  Such  w;is  their  precept,, 
but  such  unfortunately  was  not  their  example.  There  are  no  phi- 
losophers who  merit  so  much  in  the  one  respect,  none,  perhaps, 
who  deserve  less  in  the  other. 

Of  philoso])hy  since   Bacon  and   Descartes,  we   at  present  say 

nothing.     Of  that  we  shall  hereafter  have  fre- 

Resnlt  of  fliis  liis-  ,  ..  ^         u    j.  j.  1,1. 

<juent  occasion  to  speak.     But  to  sum  up  what 

torical  sketch  of  i>lu-  ...  .  . 

losophy.  ^^'^'"^  historical  sketch  was  intended  to  illustrate. 

There  is  but  one   possible  method   of  philoso- 
phy,—  a  combination  of  analysis  and  synthesis;   and  the  purity 


Lect.  VI.  METAPHYSICS.  7,7 

and  equilibrium  of  these  two  elements  constitute  its  perfection. 
The  aberrations  of  philosophy  have  been  all  so  many  violations 
of  the  laws  of  this  one  method.  Philosophy  has  erred,  because  it 
built  its  systems  upon  incomplete  or  erroneous  analysis,  and  it  can 
only  proceed  in  safety,  if  from  accurate  and  unexclusive  observa- 
tion, it  rise,  by  successive  generalization,  to  a  comprehensive  sys- 
tem. 


LECTURE    VII, 

THE    DIVISIONS    OF    PHILOSOPHY. 

I  HAVE  already  endeavored  to  afford  you  a  general  notion  of 
what  Philosophy  comprehends:  I  now  proceed  to  say  something 
in  reirard  to  the  Parts  into  which  it  has  been  divided.  Here, 
liowever,  I  must  limit  myself  to  the  most  famous  distributions, 
and  to  those  which,  as  founded  on  fundamental  principles,  it  more 
immediately  concerns  you  to  know.  For,  were  I  to  attempt  an 
enumeration  of  the  various  Divisions  of  Philosophy  wliich  have 
been  proposed,  I  should  only  confuse  you  with  a  multitude  of  con- 
tradictory opinions,  with  the  reasons  of  which  you  could  not,  at 
present,  possibly  be  made  acquainted. 

Seneca,  in  a  letter  to  his  young  friend  Lucilius,  expresses  the 
wish  that  the  whole  of  philosophy  might,  like 

xpe  Jencj  o  a    i-       ^^^q  sijectaclc  of  the  universe,  be  at  once  sub- 

vision  of  Philosophy.  _        '  _  _       ' 

mitted  to  our  view.  "  tJtinam  quemadmodum 
universi  mundi  facies  in  conspectum  venit,  ita  philosophia  tota 
nobis  posset  occurrere,  simillimum  mundo  spectaculum."^  But  as 
we  cannot  survey  the  universe  at  a  glance,  neither  can  we  con- 
template the  whole  of  philosophy  in  one  act  of  consciousness. 
We  can  only  master  it  gradually  and  piecemeal ;  and  this  is  in 
fact  the  reason  why  philosophers  have  always  distributed  their 
science,  (constituting,  though  it  does,  one  organic  whole,)  into  a 
plurality  of  sciences.  The  expediency,  and  even  necessity,  of  a 
division  of  philosoj)hy,  in  order  that  the  mind  may  be  enabled  to 
embrace  in  one  general  view  its  various  parts,  in  their  relation  to 
each  other,  and  to  the  whole  which  they  constitute,  is  admitted  by 
every  philosopher.  '•  Res  utilis,"  continues  Seneca,  "  et  ad  sapi- 
entiam  properanti  utique  necessaria,  dividi  philosophiam,  et  ingcns 
corpus  ejus  in  membra  disponi.  Facilius  enim  per  partes  in  cog- 
nitionem  totius  adducimur."^ 

But,  although  philosophers  agree  in  regard  to  the  utility  of  such  a 
distribution,  they  are  almost  as  little  at  ©ne  in  regard  to  the  parts, 
as  they  are  in  respect  to  the  definition,  of  their  science  ;  and,  indeed, 
their  differences  in  reference  to  the  former,  mainly  arise  from  their 

1  Epiat.  Ixxxix.  2  Ejiist.  Ixxxix. 


Lect.  VII.  METAPHYSICS.  7& 

« 
discrepancies  in  reference  to  the  latter.     For  they  who  vary  in  their 

comprehension  of  the  whole,  cannot  agree  in  their  division  of  the 
parts. 

The  most  ancient  and  universally  recognized  distinction  of  philo- 
sophy, is  into  Theoretical  and  Practical.    These 
The  most  ancient  di-       .^,  ^  discriminated  by  the  different  nature  of  their 

vision  info  Theoretical  1,^,1  •       i  11     i    i-i  •  1      • 

and  Practical  ends.     Theoretical,  called  likewise    speculative, 

and  contem})lative,  philosophy,  has  for  its  high- 
est end  mere  truth  or  knowledge.  Practical  ))hilosophy,  on  the 
other  hand,  has  truth  or  knowledge  only  as  its  ])roxhnate  end, — 
this  end  being  subordinate  to  the  ulterior  end  of  some  practical  ac- 
tion. In  theoretical  philosophy,  avc  know  for  the  sake  of  knowing, 
scimus  ut  sciamus :  in  practical  philosophy,  we  know  for  the  sake  of 
acting,  scimus  ut  operennir}  I  may  here  notice  the.  poverty  of  the 
English  language,  in  the  want  of  a  word  to  express  that  practical 

activitv  Avhich  is  contradistinguished  from  mere 

The  term  Active.  .         ,,  ,  ,    ,  •  '  1      ^    ^i 

intellectual  or  sjieculative  energy,  —  what  the 
Greeks  express  by  Trpdaaeiv,  the  Germans  by  han<JeJii.  The  want  of 
si.3!i  a  word  occasions  frequent  ambiguity ;  Ibr,  to  express  the 
species  which  has  no  approj)riate  word,  we  are  com])elled  to  employ 
the  generic  term  active.  Thus  our  ]ihilosophers  divide  the  i)Owers 
of  the  mind  into  Intellectual  and  Active.  They  do  not,  liowever, 
thereby  mean  to  insinuate  that  the  powers  called  intellectual  are  a 
whit  less  energetic  than  those  specially  denominated  active.  But, 
from  the  want  of  a  better  word,  they  are  compelled  to  employ  a 
term  which  denotes  at  once  much  more  and  much  less  than  they  are 
desirous  of  exjiressing.  I  ought  to  oljserve  that  the  term  practical 
has  also  obtained  with  us  certain  collateral  significations,  which 
render  it  in  some  respects  unfit  to  supply  the  want.-     But  to  return. 

This  distinction  of  Theoretical  and  Practical  jthilosopliy,  was  first 
explicitly  (nniiiiccd   by  Aristotle  ;"  and  the   at- 

llistoiy  ot  11.0  dis-        temi)ts  of  till'  Intel-   I'laldiiists  to  cmitv  it   up  to 

tinction  of  riii'iircticul  -^,  ,  i»       1  ..  ,  i_ 

,  ,,     ..    ,  Plato  and  even  to  Pvthairoras,  aiv  not  worthy 

of  statement,  far  less  of  refutation.  Once  pro- 
mulgated, the  division  was,  however,  soon  generally  recognized. 
The  Stoics  borrowed  it,  as  maybe  sren  from  Seneca:* — "  Pliilo- 
Bophia  et  contemplativa  est  et  activa;  spectat,  simulque  agit.''     It 

1  &(wp-rrTiKTts  fif^'  i-iri(TTfjn-ns  Tf\oi  aXrid-  fi  iroivriKr)  fl  ^tupvrtK'f].  Cf.  Mfinph.  x.  T: 
tio,  TrpaKTiKfjs  h'  tpyov.  Arist.  J\Mn/,/i.  A  7V,,7.  vi.  f,,  viii.  .3.  Kiif  the  divii^ion  had  been 
minor,  c.  1;  "  or  11s  Avirroes  has  it.  P<r syrtv-  af  lensf  intimafed  h>  I'lato:  Polilinn.,  p.  2.18: 
lativnm  scimus  ul  scinmm.pfr  pmctiram  scimus  Tavrrt  roivvv,  (Tvntrdffa^  iiri(rrTina%  5<a/p«., 
ut  optremiir.-' —  Discussions,  p.  134.  —  Ed.  t^  fifv  irpaKTi^V  wpoatirruv,  T^v  Si  fxiivot 

2  Cf.  Reiifs  Works,  p  511.  u.  t-  —  Ei>.  yvwcTT iKi)v .  —  Ed. 
X  Metaph.  V.  I;  T\a.<Ta    htavoia   ?)   TrpoKTiK))  *  Kp.  xcv.  10. 


bO  M1:T  A  PHYSICS.  Lkct.  VIL 

was  also  adopted  by  the  Epicureans  ;  and,  in  general,  by  those 
Greek  and  Roman  philosophers  Avho  viewed  their  science  as  versant 
either  in  the  conteni])lation  of  nature  {<t>vaLKT^),  or  in  the  regulation 
of  human  action  (rj&tKr])  ;^  for  hy  nature  tliey  did  not  denote  the  ma- 
terial universe  alone,  but  their  Physics  included  Metaphysics,  and 
their  Ethics  embraced  Politics  and  Economics.  There  was  thus 
only  a  difference  of  nomenclature  ;  for  Physical  and  Theoretical,  — ■ 
Ethical  and  Practical  Philosophy,  —  were  with  them  terms  abso- 
lutely equivalent. 

I  regard  the  division  of  philosophy  into  Theoretical  and  Practical 

as  unsound,  and  this  for  two  reasons. 
The  division  of  Phi-  The  first  is,  that  jihilosophy,  as  philosophy,  is 

losopby  into  Theoret-       ^^.    cognitive,  —  Only  theoretical ;  whatever  lies 

ical  and  Practical  un-  .'        o  ./ 

gound.  beyond  the  sphere  of  speculation  or  knowledge, 

transcends  the  sphere  of  philosophy ;  conse- 
quently, to  divide  philosophy  by' any  quality  ulterior  tO  speculation, 
is  to  divide  it  by  a  difference  which  does  not  belong  to  it.  Now, 
the  distinction  of  practical  philosophy  from  theoretical,  commits  this 
error.  For,  while  it  is  admitted  that  all  philosophy,  as  cognitive,  is 
theoretical,  some  philosophy  is  again  taken  out  of  this  category  on 
the  ground,  that,  beyond  the  mere  theory,  —  the  mere  cognition, — 
it  has  an  ulterior  end  in  its  application  to  practice. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  this  difference,  even  were  it  admissible, 
would  not  divide  j^hHosophy ;  for,  in  point  of  fact,  all  pliilosophy 
must  be  regarded  as  practical,  inasmuch  as  mere  knowledge,  — that 
is,  the  mere  possession  of  truth,  —  is  not  the  highest  end  of  any 
philosophy,  but,  on  the  contrary,  all  truth  or  knowledge  is  valuable 
only  inasmuch  as  it  determines  the  mind  to  its  contemj^Iation, — 
that  is,  to  pi-fictical  energy.  Speculation,  therefore,  inasmuch  as  it 
is  not  a  negation  of  thought,  but,  on  the  contrary,  the  highest  energy 
of  intellect,  is,  in  point  of  fact,  preeminently  practical.  The  practice 
of  one  branch  of  philosophy  is,  indeed,  different  from  that  of  another ; 
but  all  are  still  practical ;  for  in  none  is  mere  knowledge  the  ulti- 
mate,—  the  highest  end. 

Among  the  ancients,  the  principal  difference  of  opinion  regarded 
the  relation  of  Logic  to  Philosophy  and  its  branches.  But  as  this 
controversy  is  of  veiy  subordinate  importance,  and  hinges  upon 
distinctions,  to  explain  which  would  require  considerable  detail,  I 

1  Sext.  Emp.  Artv.  Math.,   vii.  14:    Ttif   he  Tarrovaiv  is  /col  rrjv  Kojiktjv  beaipiav  4k- 

difiepTj  t})v  (piKoTocpiau  vnoarriaaixivoiv  s.fv-  ^aWovra.    Seneca,  Ep.  ixxxix. :  "  Epicure! 

o<pdi'ijs  fxfv  6  KoXoodvios,  rb   OvffiKhv  a/xa  quas  partes  philosophije  putaverunt  esse,  Nat- 

tai    \oyiK6f,    ws    <paai    Tivts,    utryp^eTo,  uralem,  atriie  Moralcin :  liationalem  remov- 

AfXf^aoi    Se   d  A^va7os    rh    (pvffiKhv   koI  «runt."  —  Ed. 
itdiKOi/'   fifd'   oj    Tti'fs   Kol    rhv   ^iriKOVpoy 


Lkct.  YIL  METAPHYSICS.  81 

shall  content  myself  with  saying,  —  that,  by  the  Platonists,  Logic 

was  regarded  hoth  as  a  part,  and  as  the  instru- 
Controversy  among       mcnt,    of   philosophy;  —  by    the    Aristotelians. 

ancients  recrardiiiKtlie  /■  i    •  j.    ^^      \  •  ii.>    •        •!       i\  •      ^ 

^  .  (Aristotle  hiniseli   is  silent),  as   an  instrument, 

relation  of    Logic  to         ^  '_ 

riiii  )s(ii.iiy.  hut    not   as   a  part,   of   philosophy;  —  by   the 

Stoics,  as  forming  one  of  the  three  parts  of  philo- 
sojthy,  —  Physics,  or  theoretical,  Ethics,  or  practical  ])hilosophy, 
being  the  other  two.  ^  But  as  Logic,  whether  considered  as  a  part 
of  j)hilosophy  ]»'oper  or  not,  was  by  all  included  under  the  philoso- 
phical sciences,  the  division  of  these  sciences  which  latterly  prevailed 
aintjiig  tlie  Academic,  the  Peripatetic,  and  the  Stoical  sects,  was 
into  Logic  as  tlie  subsidiary  or  instrumental  doctrine,  and  into 
the  two  princii)al  branches  of  Theoretical  and  Practical  Philo- 
sophy. ^ 

It  is  manifest  that  in  our  sense  of  the  tenn  practical.,  Logic,  as  an 
instrumental  science,  would  be  comprehended  under  the  head  of 
practical  philosophy. 

I  shall  take  this  oj^j^ortunity  of  explaining  an  anomaly  which  you 
Avill  find  explained  in  no  work  with  which  I  am 

pp  ica  ion  o      10       acquainted.     Certain  branches  of  philosophical 

termg  Art  and  Science.  ^  '■  '■ 

knowledge  are  called  Arts,  —  or  Arts  and 
Sciences  indifterently  ;  others  are  exclusively  denominated  Sciences. 
Were  this  distinction  coincident  with  the  distinction  of  sciences 
speculative  and  sciences  practical,  —  taking  the  term  practical  in  its 
ordinary  acceptation,  —  there  would  be  no  difficulty;  for,  as  every 
practical  science  necessarily  involves  a  theory,  notliing  could  be 
more  natural  than  to  call  the  same  branch  of  knowledge  an  art, 
when  viewed  as  relative  to  its  practical  application,  and  a  science, 
when  viewed  in  relation  to  the  theorj  which  that  application  sup- 
poses. But  this  is  not  the  case.  The  speculative  sciences,  indeed, 
are  never  deiiominated  arts;  we  may,  therefore,  throw  them  aside. 
The  difficulty  is  exclusively  confined  to  the  i)ractical.  Of  these 
some  never  receive  the  name  of  arts;  others  are  called  arts  and 
sciences  indilferently.  Thus  the  sciences  of  Ethics,  Economics, 
Politics,  Tlieology,  etc.,  though  all  practical,  are  never  denominated 
arts  ;  whereas  thi.^.  appellation  is  very  usually  ai)plied  to  the  practical 
sciences  of  Logic,  lihetoric.  Grammar,  etc. 

1  Alexander  Apliiodisiensis, //I  Anal.  Prior.  Lacrtiiis,  vii.  39;  rseudo-riutai-cli.   P^  P'.nt 

p.  2,  (cd.  1520).     Ammpnius,  In  Categ.  c.  4;  PA//.  I'roucm.    It  is.'iomctimis,  but  nppnrcntly 

Philoponiis,   In  AnaX.    Prior,  f.  4;   Cramer's  without  much  reason,  attributed   to  I'lato. 

Arucilom,  vol.  i\ .  p.  417.     Compare  the  Au-  .'^ee  Cicero,  ylc<i'/.  Qii<Tst.  i.  5;  Euscbius,  Pr<rf. 

thor's    Discussions,  p.  132.     The  divi.Moii   of  Evan.  xi.  1;  Augu.^lin,   De  Civ.  Dei.  viii.  i 

riiilocophy  into  Logic,  Physics,  and  Ktliics,  — Ed. 

probably  originated   with  the   Stoics.     See  2  Sext.  Empir.  a/c.  .UuM.  vii.  16.— Ed. 

11 


82  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  VII. 

That  the  term  art  is  with  us  not  coextensive  with  pi'actical  science, 
is  thus  manifest ;  and  yet  these  are  frequently  confounded.  Thus, 
for  example,  Dr.  Whately,  in  his  definition  of  Logic,  thinks  that 
Logic  is  a  science,  in  so  far  as  it  institutes  an  analysis  of  the  process 
of  the  mind  in  reasoning,  and  an  art,  in  so  far  as  it  affoixls  practical 
rules  to  secure  the  mind  from  error  in  its  deductions ;  and  he  de- 
fines an  art  the  application  of  knowledge  to  practice.  ^  Now,  if  this 
view  were  correct,  art  and  practical  scienco  would  be  convertible 
tenns.  But  that  they  are  not  employed  as  synonymous  expressions 
is,  as  we  have  seen,  shown  by  the  incongruity  we  feel  in  talking  of 
the  art  of  Ethics,  the  art  of  Religion,  etc.,  though  these  are  emi- 
nently practical  sciences. 

The  question,  therefore,  still  remains.  Is  this  restriction  of  the 
term  art  to  certain  of  the  practical  sciences  the  result  of  some  acci- 
dental and  forgotten  usage,  or  is  it  founded  on  any  rational  principle 
which  we  are  able  to  trace  ?  The  former  alternative  seems  to  be  the 
common  belief;  for  no  one,  in  so  far  as  I  know,  has  endea^^ored  to 
account  for  the  apparently  vague  and  capricious  manner  in  which 
the  terms  art  and  science  are  applied.  Tlie  latter  alternative,  how- 
ever, is  the  true ;  and  I  shall  endeavor  to  explain  to  you  the  reason 
of  the  application  of  the  term  art  to  certain  practical  sciences,  and 
not  to  others. 

You  are  aware  that  the  Aristotelic  philosophy  was,  for  many  cen- 
turies, not  only  the  prevalent,  but,  during  tlic 

Its  historical  origin.  •  t  m  i  i      •  i  -i  i         • 

middle  ages,  the  one  exclusive  philosophy  in 
Europe.  This  philoso]diy  of  the  middle  ages,  or,  as  it  is  commonly 
called,  the  Scholastic  Philosophy,  has  exerted  the  most  extensive 
influence  on  the  languages  of  modern  Europe ;  and  from  this  com- 
mon source  has  been  principally  derived  that  community  of  ex])res- 
sion  Avhich  these  languages  exhibit.  Now,  the  peculiar  ajDplication 
of  the  term  art  was  introduced  into  the  vulgar  tongues  from  the 
scholastic  philoso])hy;  and  was  borrowed  by  that  ])]iilosophy  from 
Aristotle.  This  is  onlv  one  of  a  thousand  instances  which  might  be 
alleged  of  the  unfelt  influence  of  a  single  powerful  mind,  on  the  as- 
sociations and  habits  of  thought  of  generations  to  the  end  of  time ; 
and  of  Aristotle  is  preemhiently  true,  Avhat  has  been  so  beautifully 
said  of  the  ancients  in  general : — 


o^ 


"Thegrc.ntofold! 
The  dead  but  .sceptred  sovrans  who  still  rule 
Our  spirits  from  their  urns."  2 

Now,  then,  the  application  of  the  term  art  in  the  modern  Ian- 

1  See  Duicussions,  p.  131.  —  En.  -  I$yroii"s  Man/rni,  Act.  iii.  Scene  iv 


Lect.  VII.  METAPHYSICS.  83 

guages  being  mediately  governed  by  certain  distinctions  wliich  tlie 
capacities  of  the  Greek  tongue  allowed  Aristotle  to  establisli,  these 
distinctions  must  be  explained. 

In  tlie  Aristotelic  philosophy,  the  terms  Trpafis  and  TrpaKriKos, — 
that  is,  practice  and  nracticuL  were  eninloved 
both  ni  a  generic  or  looser,  and  in  a  special  or 
stricter  signification.  In  its  generic  meaning  Trpa^is,  practice,  was 
ojiposed  to  theory  or  sj)eculation,  and  it  coin})rehended  under  it, 
practice  in  its  special  meaning,  and  another  coordinate  term  to 
which  practice,  in  this  its  stricter  signification,  was  opposed.     This 

term   was  Troiqa-K;,  M'hicli   Ave  may  inadecpiately 

Xloirjffis.  ,  ,  -  .  rni        *  T      •  •  V 

tninslate  by  production.  1  lie  aistiiiction  of 
irpaKTLK6<i  and  #rot7;riKos  consisted  ill  this:  the  former  denoted  tlvit 
action  wliich  terminated  in  action,  —  the  latter,- that  action  which 
resulted  in  some  permanent  product.  For  example,  dancing  and 
music  are  practical,  as  leaving  no  work  after  their  performance ; 
whereas,  painting  and  statuary  arc  productive,  as  leaving  some 
product  over  and  above  their  energy.^ 

Now  Aristotle,  in  formally  defining  art,  defines  it  as  a  habit  pro- 
ductive, and  not  as  a  habit  ]»ractical,  l^t?  -troi-q- 
Why  Ethics,  I'oii-       ^j^^  ^^f^j^  Xoyou;  —  and,  tliougli  lie  has  not  always 
ics,  e  c,     esigna  e         hiiiiself  adhered   strictly   to  this  limitation,  his 

Sciences;  Logic,  Rhe-  _   _  ^  •'  _ 

toric,  etc..  Arts.  definition  was  adopted  by  liis  followers,  and  tiie 

terra  in  its  application  to  tlie  practical  sciences, 
(the  term  practical  being  here  used  in  its  generic  meaning),  came 
to  be  exclusively  confined  to  those  whose  end  did  not  n^sult  in 
mere  action  or  energy.  ^Accordingly  as  P]thics,  Politics,  etc.,  ]>ro- 
posed  ha])piness  as  their  end,  —  and  as  happiness  was  an  energy,  or 
at  least  the  concomitant  of  energy,  these  sciences  terminated  in 
action,  and  were  consequently  pntctical,  not  productire.  On  the 
other  hand.  Logic,  Rhetoric,  etc.,  did  not  terminate  in  a  mere,  —  an 
evanescent  action,  but  in  a  ]>cniiaiiciit,  —  an  enduring  ]>r<^duct. 
For  the  end  of  Logic  was  tlie  production  of  a  reasoning,  the  end 
of  Rhetoric  the  pro(biction  of  an  oiation,  and  so  forth.-  This  dis- 
tinction is  not  i>eihaps  beyond  the  rea<h  of  criticism,  and  I  am  not 
liere  to  vindicate   its  coirectness.      3Iy  only  aim   is  to  make  you 

1  See  Eth.   Nir.  i.  1.     Aia<J)opa  5*  tij  <pai-  piiWll    materia  opti8    aIii|iio(l   cfficitur  <iuod 

vfTai  ruiv  T(\a>u-  to  ni,>  -yap  tiVij/  ivfpyfiai  *'''""  I'i>-'^t  nctioiicni  iH-iiiuuKt.     Nam  Tootica 

Tk   hi    Trap'    alnhs    ipya  Tivd.     Vn,l.    vi.    4;  '''''"'  '>(  OTrJ)  toO  Trmfr^  .Ilia- taiiU'i.   imlii.il)i- 

Mngnn  Mornlia,  i.  .3r>.      (f.    (Juiiililian,  Ixsl,-  '''"  i'>:H«'i'H"   """  tniotat.  ii.-<in«'  opus  fucit 

(u(.  lib.  ii   c   18  Kn  '1'^"   ''"*'•••'   ticlionc  <luriil)iliiis.     tjuoil  I'liiin 

1!  Cf.  nurf.er!.<iyck,  Inslilut.  Log.  lib.  i.  §  fi.  Ih*'""!"  HiiMThint.  id  lion  est  ab  ca  actione 

Lofrica  dicitiir  Troifri/,  id  est, /ncrrp  sive  f^r.r^  <!"«  efflciuiitur  sid  a  scriptioiie.    At.jue  haec 

Byll»Ki8iiioK,  tldiiiiliones,    etc.     Np()iie    enim  de  j?eiicre.     See  also  SclieibJer,  Opfo.  Tract 

verum  est,  (jiiod  tiiiidniM  aiuiit,  n-oi(?(/  k'iii|ht  rnxxim.  §  iii.  p.  6.  —  Eu 
eignificrre   ejusmudi  actioncni,  qua   f.\  pal- 


84  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  Vlt 

aware  of  the  grounds  of  the  distinction,  in  order  that  you  may 
comprehend  the  principle  which  originally  determined  the  applica- 
tion of  the  term  art  to  some  of  the  practical  sciences  and  not  to 
others,  and  without  a  knowledge  of  which  principle  the  various 
<'mploynient  of  the  term  must  appear  to  you  capricious  and  unintel- 
ligible. It  is  needless,  ]>erhaps,  to  notice  that  the  rule  applies 
only  to  the  philoso])hical  sciences,  —  to  those  which  received  their 
form  and  denominations  from  the  learned.  The  mechanical  dexter- 
ities were  beneath  their  notice;  and  these  were  accordingly  left  to 
receive  their  appellations  from  those  who  knew  nothing  of  the  Aris- 
totelic  pro])rieties.  Accordingly,  the  term  art  is  in  them  applied, 
without  distinction,  to  ])roductive  and  unproductive  operations. 
We  speak  of  the  art  of  rope-dancing,  equally  as  of  tiie  art  of  rope- 
making.     But  to  leturn. 

The  division  of  philosophy  into  Theoretical  and  Practical  is  the 
most  important  that  has  been  made ;  and  it  in 

Universality  of  the  that  which  has  entered  into  nearly  all  the  dis- 
division   of  I'liiioso-       tributions   attempted   by   modern   philosophers. 

^  „     ^.    ,  Bacon  was  the  first,  after  the  revival  of  letters, 

and  Practical.  ... 

Bacon.  who  essayed  a  distribution  of  the  sciences  and 

of  philosophy.  He  divided  all  human  knowl- 
edge into  History,  Poetry,  and  Philosophy.  Philosophy  he  dis- 
tinguished into  branches  conversant  about  the  Deity,  about  Nature, 
and  about  Man  ;  and  each  of  these  had  their  subordinate  divisions, 
which,  however,  it  is  not  necessary  to  j^articularize.^ 

Descartes  ^  distributed  philosophy  into  theoretical  and  practical, 
with    various    subdivisions ;    but    his    followers 

Descartes    and    liis  ,       i.     ^     l.^  ~\-     •    •  i?T        •         "nr^i 

adopted    the    division    ot    Lioo-ic,   iuetai)hysics, 

followers.      ^  '  _        ^  .  . 

Physics,  and  Ethics.^  Gassendi  recognized,  like 
the  ancients,  three  parts  of  philosophy.  Logic,  Physics,  and  Ethics,^ 

and  this,  along  with  many  other  of  Gassendi's 
(.assendi;    Locke;       f|o(.trines,  was  adopted  bv  Locke.5     Kant  dis- 

Kant:     Ficlite.  .  .  ,        .        *     ,  .      , 

tinguished  philosophy  into  theoretical  and  prac- 
tical, with  various  subdivisions;'^  and  the  distribution  into  theoreti- 
cal and  practical  was  also  established  by  Fichte. " 

1  Advancement  of  hearning,  IFort.s,  vol.  ii.  \}\i.  ica,  et  a  Rationali  snu  Logica,  necnon  a  Morall 
100,  124,  (ed.  Jlontagu.)  De  Augmentis  Scien-  seu  Practica.  Disput.  Phys.  i.,  Opera,  p.  54. 
tiarum,  lib.  ii.  c.  1,  lib.  iii.  c.  1;   Works,  vol.       — Ed. 

■  Tiii.  pp.  87,  152.  —  Ed.  4  Syntagmn  Philosophium,  Lib.  Prooem.  c.  9. 

2  See  the  Prefatory  Epistle  to  the  Principia.  [Opera.  Lugduni,  1658,  vol.  i.  p.  29.) — Ed. 
—  Ed.  5  EssOy,  book  iv.  ch.  21.  —  Ed. 

3  See  Sylvain  Regis,  Cours  entier  de  Philoso-  tJ  Kriti/c  der  reinen  Vemunft,  Metbodeulehre, 
pAi>.  contenant  la  Logique,  la  Jletaphy.sique,  c.  3.  —  Ed. 

la  Physique,  et  la  Morale.     C'f.  Clauberg: —  "   Grundlage  der gesammten  Wi.isencha/lsUfire, 

"  Physica  ....  Philasophia  Naturalis  die-       54.  (Herif,  vol.  i.  p.  126.)  —  Ed. 
itur;  distiucta  a  Supernaturali  sou  Metaphys- 


Lect.    Vn.  METAPHYSICS.  85 

I  have  now  concluded  the  Lectures  crenernlly  introductory  to  the 

proi)er  business  of  the   Coiu'se.     In   these  lec- 

Ccnclusion  of  In-       ^^^^.^^^  f^.^^^^  ^,1^,  o^nieral  nature  of  the  subjects, 

troductory  lectures.  ,i     V~"  •    •  i       ■        '  i 

I  was  conipelleu  to  anticipate  conclusions,  and 
to  depend  on  your  being  able  to  supply  a  good  deal  of  what  it  was 
impossible  for  me  articulately  to  explain.  I  now  enter  upon  the 
consideration  of  the  matters  which  are  hereafter  to  occupy  our 
attention,  with  comparatively  little  apprehension,  —  for,  in  these,  we 
shall  be  able  to  dwell  more  ujwn  details,  while,  at  the  same  time, 
the  subject  will  open  upon  us  by  degrees,  so  that,  every  step  that 
we  proceed,  we  shall  find  the  progress  easier.  But  I  have  to  warn 
you,  that  you  Avill  prol)ably  find  the  very  commencement  the  most 
arduous,  and  this  not  only  because  you  will  come  less  inured  to 
difficulty,  but  because  it  will  there  be  necessary  to  deal  with  prin- 
ciples, and  these  of  a  general  and  abstract  nature  ;  whereas,  having 
once  mastered  these,  every  subsequent  step  will  be  comparati\  ely 
easy. 

"Without  entering  upon   details,  I  may  noAV  summarily  state  to 

you  the  order  whicli  I  propose  to  follow  in  the 

Order  of  the  Course.  .  ^  mi  •  •  t      • 

ensuing  Course.      11ns  requires  a  preliminary 

exposition  of  the  different  departments  of  Philosophy,  in  order  that 

you  may  obtain  a  comprehensive  view  of  the  proper  objects  of  our 

consideration,  and  of  the  relations  in  which  they  stand  to  others. 

Science  and  ])hiloso])hy   are    conversant  either  about   3Iin<l   or 

about  Matter.     The  former  of  these  is  Philoso- 

Distribution  of  the       j^|jy  properly  so  called.      With  the  latter  we 

IMiilasophical  Sci-  i  •  ^        i  j.    •  r  •.. 

have  nothina:  to  do,  except  in  so  tar  as  it  mav 
enable  us  to  throw  light  upon  the  former,  for 
Metaphysics,  in  whatever  latitude  the  term  be  taken,  is  a  science, 
or  complement  of  sciences,  exclusively  ocgupied  with  mind.  Xow 
the  Philosophy  of  Mind,  —  Psychology  or  ^Metaphysics,  in  the 
widest  signification  of  the  terms,  —  is  tJivPffoUl:  for  the  object  it 
immediately  proposes  for  consideration  may  be  either,  1°,  Ph.k- 
xoMENA  in  general;  or,  2°,  Laws;  or,  3°,  Lxfeuencks,  —  Resii.ts. 
This  I  will  endeavor  to  explain. 

The  whole  of  philosojihy  is  the  answer  to  these  three  questions: 

r,   What   are  the  Facts  or  Pha?nomena  to  be 

The   three   grami       obscrvcd  V     2°,  AVliat  are  the  Laws  which  regu- 

<|UOtition8     of    I'hilos-  ,  ,  .  ,  ^  ■    ^      j.\  \  ^ 

^^,^^.  late  these  facts,  or  under  wliicli  these  jiluvnoni- 

ena  a]i]>ear?  ."J",  AN'liat  are  (lie  real  Kosults, 
not  immediately  manifested,  which  these  facts  or  phenomena  war- 
rant us  in  drawing  ? 

If  we  consider  the  min<l  merely  with  the  view  of  observing  and 


86  METAPHYSICS.  Lk.ct.  VIL 

generalizing  the  various  plifenomena  it  reveals, — that  is,  of  analyz- 
ing them  into  capacities  or  faculties,  —  we  have 
.    ,  one  mental  science,  or  one  department  or  men- 

of  Mind  .  1     ,  • 

tal  science ;  and  this  Ave  may  call  the  Pii.enome- 
NOLOGY  OF  Mind.  It  is  commonly  called  Psychology  —  Empir- 
ical Psychology,  or  the  Inductive  Philosophy  of  Mind  ;  we 
misrht  call  it  Ph^knomenal  Psychology.  It  is  evident  tliat  the 
divisions  of  this  science  will  be  determined  by  the  classes  into 
which  the  pha^nomena  of  mind  are  distributed. 

If,  again,  we  analyze  the  mental  phaenomena  with  the  view  of 
discovering  and  considering,  not  contingent  aj)- 

,■  '  """^  "^^   °        pearances,  but  the  necessary  and  ummrsal  facts, 

—  /.  e.  the  Laws,  by  which  our  Acuities  are  gov- 
erned, to  the  end  that  we  may  obtain  a  criterion  by  which  to  judge 
or  to  explain  their  })rocedures  and  manifestations,  —  we  have  a 
science  which  we  may  call  the  Nomology  of  Mind,  —  nomological 
psYCHOLO(iY.  Now,  there  will  be  as  many  distinct  classes  of  Nomo- 
logical Psvchology,  as  there  are  distinct  classes 

Its  subdivisions.  *  -i  i        -ni 

of  mental  phfenomena  under  the  Phaenomeno- 
logical  division.  I  shall,  hereafter,  show  you  that  there  are  Three 
great  classes  of  these  phaenomena,  —  viz.  1°,  The  phfenomena  of 
our  Cognitive  faculties,  or  faculties  of  Knowledge ;  2°,  The  phae- 
nomena  of  our  Feelings,  or  the  phrenomena  of  Pleasure  and  Pain  ; 
and,  3°,  The  phrenomena  of  our  Conative  powers,  —  in  other  words, 
the  phfpnomena  of  Will  and  Desire.  (These  you  must,  for  the 
present,  take  upon  trust). ^  Each  of  these  classes  of  phrenomena 
hiis  accordingly  a  science  which  is  conversant  about  its  LaAvs.  For 
as  each  projioses  a  different  end,  and,  in  the  accomplishment  of  that 
end,  is  r^ulated  by  peculiar  laws,  each  must,  consequently,  have  a 
different  science  conversant  about  these  laws,  —  that  is,  a  different 
Nomology. 

There  is  no  one,  no  Nomological,  science  of  the  CognitiA'e  facul- 
ties   in    general,   though    Ave    have    some    older 

.  .  omo  <)g\  o   tie       treatises  which,  thoucrh  partial  in  their  subject, 

Co^'uitivc  faculties.  .  J         ' 

afford  a  name  not  unsuitable  for  a  nomology  of 
the  cognitions,  —  viz.  Gnoseologia  or  Gnostologia.  Tliere  is  no 
independent  science  of  the  laAvs  of  Perception  ;  if  there  Avere,  it 
might  be  called  ^Esthetic,  Avhich,  hoAvever,  as  Ave  shall  see,  would 
be  ambiguous.  Mnemonic,  or  the  science  of  the  laws  of  Memory, 
has  been  elaborated  at  least  in  numerous  treatises ;  but  the  name 
.Vnamnestic,  the  art  of  Recollection  op  Reminiscence,  might  be 
equally  well  applied  to  it.     The  laAA'-s  of  the  Representative  fiiculty, 

1  See  infra.  Lect.  XI.  p.  183,  et  seg.  — Ed. 


Lkct.  VII.  METATHYSICS.  87 

^ —  that  is,  the  hiAVs  of  Association,  have  not  yet  been  elevated  into 
a  separate  nomological  science.  Neither  have  the  conditions  of  the 
Re<fuhitive  or  Leiiishitive  faculty,  the  faculty  itself  of  Laws,  been 
fully  analyzed,  fai-  less  reduced  to  system;  though  we  have  several 
deservedly  forgotten  treatises,  of  an  older  date,  under  the  inviting 
name  of  JVoologies.     The  only  one  of  the  cognitive  faculties,  whose 

laws  constitute  the  object-matter  of  a  separate 
science,  is  the  Elaborative,  —  the  Understand- 
ing Special,  the  faculty  of  Relations,  the  faculty  of  Thought 
Proper.  This  nomology  has  obtained  the  name  of  Logic  among 
other  appellations,  but  not  from  Aristotle.  The  best  name  would 
have  been  Dianoetic.  Logic  is  the  science  of  the  laws  of  thought, 
in  relation  to  the  end  which  our  cognitive  faculties  propose,  —  i.  e. 
the  TuuK.  To  this  head  might  be  referred  Grammar,  —  Universal 
Grammar, — Philosophical  Grammar,  or  the  science  conversant  with 
the  laws  of  Language,  as  the  instrument  of  tliought. 

The  Nomology  of  our  Feelings,  or  the  science  of  the  laws  whicli 
govern  our  capacities  of  enjoyment,  in  relation 

2.  Nomology  of  tl.e         ^-^    ^,^^.     ^^^^^^     ^^.j^j^.j^     ^j^^.^.    j„.op,,se,  —  /.    e.    the 
feelings.  i  i  *     •        i 

Pleasurable,  —  has  obtained  no  precise  name 
in  our  language.  It  has  been  called  the  Philosophy  of  Taste,  and, 
on  the  Continent  especially,  it  has  been  denominated  ^Esthetic. 
Neither  name  is  unobjectionable.  The  first  is  vague,  meta])lK)rical, 
and  even  delusive.  Li  regard  to  the  second,  you  are  aware  that 
ato-.^r;o-ts  in  Greek  means  feeling  in  general,  as  well  as  sense  in  par- 
ticular, as  our  term  f fell  tig  means  either  the  sense  of  touch  in 
particular,  or  sentiment,  —  and  the  capacity  of  the  pleasurable  and 
painful  in  general.  Hotli  terms  are,  therefore,  to  a  certain  extent, 
ambiguous;  but  this  objection  can  rarely  be  avoided,  and  ^Esthetic, 
if  not  the  best  expression  to  be  found,  has  already  been  long  and 
genernlly  em])loyed.  It  is  now  ucaily  a  century  since  Baumgarten, 
a  celebrated  })hiIosopher  of  the  Leibnitzio-Woltian  scliool,  first 
apj>lied  the  term  urEsthetic  to  the  doctrine  which  we  \  aguely  and 
jieriphrastically  denominate  tlie  Philosophy  of  Taste,  the  theory  ot 
the  Fine  Aits,  the  science  of  the  Beautiful  and  Sublime,^  etc., — 
and  this  term  is  now  in  general  acceptance,  not  only  in  Germany, 
but  throughout  the  other  i-ountries  of  Europe.  Tiie  tenn  Aj)olaustic 
would  have  been  a  more  appro])riate  designation. 

Finally,  the  Nomology  of  our  Conativc  powers 
3.  Nomology  on  he       j^  Practical  Philosopln-,  iTonerlv  so   called;  for 

ConiU  i\  o  rowers.  ,'.•.',         , "  .  ... 

practienl  pliilosopliy  is  sinijdv  the  science  or  the 
laws    regulative  of  our  \\\\\   .in-l  Desires,  in  relation  to    the    end 

1  Baumgni ten's  work  on  this  subject,  entitleil  .Esthfiica  (two  vols.),  was  jiublished  iu  1750 
68.- El.. 


88  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  VII 

A'hich  our  conative  powers  propose,  —  i.  e.  the  Good.     This,  as  it 
considers  these  laws  in  relation  to  man  as  an 

Ktliics;  Politics.  .,..,,  .  ,      . 

individual,  or  iii  i-olation  to  man  as  a  member 
of  society,  will  be  divided  into  two  braiiohes,  —  Ethics  and  Poli- 
tics ;  and  these  again  admit  of  various  subdivisions. 

So  much  for  those  j^ai'ts  of  the  Philosophy  of  Mind,  whicli  are 
conversant  about  Phoenoraena,  and  about  Laws.  The  Third  great 
branch  of  this  philosophy  is  that  which  is  engaged  in  the  deduction 
of  Inferences,  or  Results. 

In  the  First  branch,  —  the  Phjenomenology  of  mind,  —  philo.so- 
phy  is  properly  limited  to  the  facrts  afforded  in 

HI.    Ontology,    or  •  •  i  i  i       •       i        •        ^i 

"• '  consciousness,  considered  exclusively  m  them- 

Metaphysics  Proper. 

selves.  But  thege  facts  may  be  such  as  not  only 
to  be  objects  of  knowledge  in  themselves,  but  likeAvise  to  furnish  us 
with  grounds  of  inference  to  something  out  of  themselves.  As 
effects,  and  effects  of  a  certain  character,  they  may  enable  us  to 
infer  the  analogous  character  of  their  unknown  causes  ;  as  phaMiom- 
ena,  and  phaenomena  of  peculiar  qualities,  they  may  Avai'rant  us  in 
drawing  many  conclusions  regarding  the  distinctive  character  of 
that  unknown  principle,  of  that  unknoAvn  substance,  of  which  they 
are  the  manifestations.  Although,  therefore,  existence  be  only 
revealed  to  us  in  phrenomena,  and  though  we  can,  therefore,  have 
only  a  relative  knowledge  either  of  mind  or  of  matter;  still,  by 
inference  and  analogy,  we  may  legitimately  attempt  to  rise  above 
the  mere  appearances  whicli  experience  and  observation  afford. 
Thus,  for  example,  the  existence  of  God  and  the  Immortality  of  the 
Soul  are  not  given  us  as  phaenomena,  as  objects  of  immediate 
knowledge ;  yet,  if  the  j^hjBnomena  actually  given  do  necessarily 
require,  for  their  rational  explanation,  the  hypotheses  of  immortality 
and  of  God,  Ave  are  assuredly  entitled,  from  the  existence  of  the 
former,  to  infer  the  reality  of  the  latter.  Now,  the  science  con- 
versant about  all  such  inferences  of  unknown  being  from  its  known 
manifestations,  is  called  Oxtology,  or  Metaphysics  Phopee.  We 
might  call  it  Ixferential  Psychology. 

The  following  is  a  tabular  view  of  the  distribution  of  Philosophy 
as  here  proposed  :  — 


Mind  or 

Conacioiisnew 

affords 


,,    ^         ,,,  .  {  Cognitions, 

tacts,  —  PhasnomenoIOKy,     \  ^    ,. 

x^      .  ■     .  «      ■    ,      =•"     J  Feelings. 

Empirical  Psychology.        J  *        r>  ,n'n       i  r>    •    % 

(  Conative  Powers  (A\  ill  and  Desire). 

/'  Cognitions,  —  Logic. 

Laws.  —  >'omology ,  Rational  ^  Feelings,  —  Esthetic. 

Psychology.  1  rr.„Si,r^  p^wo.v,    (  Moral  Philosophy. 

(  Conative  Po^vei^.  |  ^,„y^^i^^^  Philosophy 

Results,  — Ontology,     Infer-  (  Being  of  God. 

ential  Psychology.  |  Inimoi-talify  of  the  Soul,  etc. 

In  this  distribution  of  the  philosophical  sciences,  you  will  observe 


Lect.  VII.  METAPHYSICS.  8i> 

that  I  take  little  account  of  the  celebrated  division  of  2)hilosophy 

into  Speculative    and    Practical,  which  I  have 

Meauiiigoftiie  term.  i    •        i 

already  explained  to  you,'  for  I  call  only  one 
minor  division  of  philosophy  practical,  — ■  viz.  the  Nomology  of  the 
Conative  powers,  not  because  that  science  is  not  equally  theoretical 
Avith  any  other,  but  simply  because  these  powers  are  properly  called 
practical,  as  tending  to  practice  or  overt  action. 

Such  is  the  distribution  of  Philosophy,  which  I  venture  to  pro 
pose  as  the  sim})lest  and  most  exhaustive,  and  I  shall  now  proceed, 
in  reference  to  it,  to  specify  the  particular  branches  whicli  form  the 
objects  of  our  consideration  in  the  present  course. 

The  subjects  assigned  to  the  various  chairs  of  the  Philosophical 

Faculty,  in  the  different  Universities  of  Europe, 

Distribution  of  sub-       -ware  not  Calculated    upon   any  comprehensive 

jucts    in     Fiiciiltv    of  •  i^   ii  i         J?      1  •!  1  1       />    ii      • 

;,.,       ,    .    ,  ■„  .        View  ot  the  ])arts  oi  philosophv,  and  of  their 

J'lulosoptiy  in  tlie  Uni-  *        _  '■  .  . 

versities  of  Europe.  natural     connection.       Our     universities    were 

foundetl  when  the  Aristotelic  philosophy  was 
the  dominant,  or  rather  the  exclusive,  system,  and  the  ])arts  distrib- 
uted to  the  different  classes,  in  the  faculty  of  Arts  or  Philosophy,, 
were  recfulated  bv  the  contents  of  certain  of  the  Aristotelic  books, 
and  by  the  order  in  which  they  were  studied.  Of  these,  there  were 
always  Four  great  divisions.  There  was  first  Logic,  in  relation  to 
the  Organon  of  Aristotle ;  secondly,  ^f<>taphysics,  relative  to  his 
books  under  that  title;  thirdly.  Moral  Philosophy,  rclatiAC  to  his 
Ethics,  Politics,  and  Econcjmics ;  and,  fourthly,  Physics,  relative  to 
his  Physics,  and  the  collection  of  treatises  styled  in  the  schools  the 
Panui  Naturali((.  But  every  university  had  not  a  full  comi)lement 
of  classes,  that  is,  did  not  devote  a  separate  year  to  each  of  the 
four  subjects  of  study;  and,  accordingly,  in  those  seats  of  learning 
where  three  years  formed  the  curriculum  of  philosophy,  two  of 
these  branches  were  combined.  In  this  university.  Logic  and  Met- 
a])hysics  were  taught  in  the  same  year;  in  others,  Metajthysics  and 
Moral  Philosophy  Avere  conjoined;  and,  when  the  old  practice  Avas 
abandoned  of  the  several  Regents  or  Professors  carrying  on  their 
students  through  every  departnieiit,  the  tAvo  branches  which  had 
been  taught  in  the  same  year  were  assigned  to  the  s.ime  chair. 
What  is  most  curious  in  the  matter  is  this,  —  .Vristotle's  treatise 
(hi  the  Sol//  being,  (along  Avith  his  lesser  treatises  on  Mi mori/  mn/ 
J{e)niniscenci,o\\  Sc/isc  <'/t.i/  its  O'lji  rts,  vtr.,)  iiiclmlrd  in  the  I'ltmt 
JVaturalHi,  and,  he  having  declared  that  tlie  consideration  of  tin* 
soul  Avas  ]»art   of  the  philoso]>hy  of  nature.-  the    science    of   Mind 

1  SveniiU.  |i  8).  —  K:>.  -mpl  \^i>x~ii,  ?)  iriffrjj  *;   t"s  Toiavrjis.      Cf 

2  De  Aiiinid,  i.  1.      ♦ytriiroi'   to  dfu'p'trat       Mrifi]ili.  \  .\      ^'\oi' n^i.'i  ^>.i  iv  Toli  <pvmKOiS 

12 


DO  MKTAl'IIYSICS.  Lect.  Til 

was  always  treated  along  Avith  Physics.  The  professors  of  Natural 
Philosophy  have,  however,  long  abandoned  the  philosophy  of  mind, 
and  this  branch  has  been,  as  more  a]>proj)riate  to  their  departments, 
taught  both  by  the  Professors  of  Moral  Philosophy  and  by  the  Pro- 
fessors of  Logic  and  Metaphysics,  —  for  you  are  not  to  suppose  that 
metaphysics  and  psychology  are,  though  vulgaily  used  as  synon- 
ymous expressions,  by  any  means  the  same.  So  much  for  the  his- 
torical accidents  which  have  affected  the  subjects  of  the  different 
chairs.  • 

T  noAV  return  to  the  distribution  of  philosophy,  which  I  have 
given   you,  and,  first,  by  exclusion,  I  shall  tell 

Subjects  appiopn-         ^^^   what  docs  not  Concern  us.     In  this  class, 

ate  to  this  Chair.  "^  ,  ' 

we  have  nothing  to  do  with  Practical  Philoso- 
phy, ^ — -that  is.  Ethics,  Politics,  Economics.  But,  with  this  excep- 
tion, there  is  no  other  branch  of  philosophy  which  is  not  either 
specially  allotted  to  our  consideration,  or  Avhich  does  not  fall  nat- 
urally within  our  sphere.  Of  the  former  description,  are  Logic, 
and  Ontology  or  Metaphysics  Proper.  Of  tlie  latter,  are  Psychol- 
ogy, or  the  Philosophy  of  Mind  in  its  stricter  signification,  and 
^Esthetic. 

These   subjects  are,  however,  collectively  too   extensive   to  be 

overtaken  in  a  single  Course,  and,  at  the  same 
(impie  leiiMon  ai         time,  somc  of  them  are  too  abstract  to  afford 

ortkr  of  the  Courst. 

the  proper  materials  for  the  instruction  of  those 
only  commencing  the  study  of  philosophy.  In  fact,  the  depart- 
ment allotted  to  this  chair  comprehends  the  two  extremes  of  phi- 
losophy, —  Logic,  forming  its  appro])riate  introduction,  —  Meta- 
physics, its  necessary  consummation.  I  propose,  therefore,  in  order 
fairly  to  exhaust  the  business  of  the  chair,  to  divide  its  subjects 
between  two  Courses,  —  the  one  on  Phienomenology,  Psychology, 
or  Mental  Philosophy  in  general;  the  other,  on  Nomology,  Logic, 
or  the  laws  of  the  Cognitive  Faculties  in  particular.^ 

Tb  Tj  eart  Cv'^f'^"  kcu  6pi(f(r^aL,  Koi  Siori  Koi  phy,  strictly  so  called,  witli  the  geience  which 

vepl  \^jvxvs  eVi'as  ^eaipriaai  rov  (jivcTLKov,  bar)  is  conversant  with  the  Manifestations  of'Mind, 

fi^  6,p(u  TTJs  uA.Tjs  iariv.  —  Ed.  — Thainomenology,  or  I'sychology.    I  sh.-'ll 

1  From  the  following  sentences,  which  ap-  then  proceed  to  Logic,  the  science  which  con- 
pear  in  the  manuscript  lecture  as  superseded  siders  the  Laws  of  Thought;  and  finally,  to 
by  the  paragraph  given  in  the  text,  it  is  obvi-  Ontology,  or  Metaphysics  proper,  the  philos- 
ous  that  tlie  Author  liad  orighially  designed  ophy  of  Results.  jKstlietic,  or  the  theory  of 
to  discuss  specifically,  and  with  greater  detail,  the  Pleasurable,  I  should  consider  subse- 
the  three  grand  departments  of  I'hilosophy  quently  to  Logic,  and  previously  to  Ontol- 
indicatcd  in  tlie  distribution  proposed  by  him  :  ogy"  —  On  the  propriety  of  according  to  Psy- 
—  "The  plan  which  1  propose  to  adopt  in  the  chology  the  first  place  jn  the  order  of  tliephil- 
distribution  of  the  Course,  or  rather  Courses,  osophical  sciences,  see  Cousin,  Cours  de  I'  Hi.i- 
is  the  following  :  toire  de  la  Philosophie,  Deuxieme  Serie,  torn,  ii 

"  I  shall  commence  with  Mental   Philoso-  p.  71-73  (ed.  1S4T).  —  Eu. 


LECTURE     Yin. 

PSYCHOLOGY,  ITS  DEFINITION.    EXPLICATION  OF  TERMS. 

I  NOW  pass  to  the  First  Division  of  my  subject,  -which  will  occu2)y 
the  present  Course,  and  commence  with  a  definition  of  Psychol- 
ogy,—  The  PnyENOMENOLoGY  OF  Mind. 

Psychology,  or  the  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  strictly  so 
denominated,   is   the   science    conversant   about 

I)ctiiiition    of  Psv-         ^i  7  y^      j*  j    j.  c 

the  plimnonieud.  or  inoamcations.  or  st((tes  or 
the   3fiiid,   or    Conscious- Subject^   or   SouJ,   or 
Spirit.,  or  Self.,  or  JlJyo, 

In  this  definition,  you  will  observe  that  I  have  purposely  accumu- 
lated  a  variety  of  expressions,  in  order  that  I 

Explication  of  term.s.  ■    -,       ■,  1  i-  •  n         ^  • 

might  have  the  earliest  opportunity  ot  making 

you  acciTrately  acquainted  Avith  their  meaning;  for  they  are  terms 
of  vital  importance  and  frequent  use  in  philosophy.  —  Before,  there- 
fore, proceeding  furtlier,  I  shall  pause  a  moment  in  exjihination  of 
the  terms  in  which  this  definition  is  expressed.  Without  restrict- 
ing myself  to  the  tbllowing  order,  I  shall  consider  the  word  Psy- 
chologi/  •  the  correlative  terms  siihject  and  SKhstance,  j>h(i'uome)wn, 
rnodifiratloiu  stdte,  etc.,  and,  at  the  same  time,  take  occasion  to 
exjiliiin  another  correlative,  the  expression  object.,  and,  finally,  the 
words  mind.,  soid,  sjnrit,  self,  and  effo. 

Indeed,  after  considering  these  terms,  it  may  not  l)e  improj)cr 
to  take  u)»,  in  one  series,  the  i)hilosophical  expressions  of  principal 
importance  and  most  ordinary  occurrence,  in  order  to  render  less 
fre(jii('nt  the  necessity  of  interrujiting  the  course  of  our  procedure, 
to  afford  the  recpiisite  verbal  explanations. 

The  t((rm  P.-<ijchol<>tii/,  is  of  Greek  compound,  its  elements  i/txV» 
signifying  .><oul  or  mind,   and   Ao'yo?,  signifying 

Tlif  term  I'svcliolo-  ,.         '  t      ,    .  t-»        1     1  ^i^        1' 

.   ,.       ,        dixc<)iir.'<r   or   doctroie.      Psycliologv,  therefore, 

Ity :  Its  use  vMuliiatiil.  j  ^,  ^ 

is  tilt'  iHscnin'si'  or  dotlrine  treatin;/  of  tin  Im- 
tnnn  'mind.  J>ut,  though  composed  of  Greek  elements,  it  is,  like 
the  greater  number  of  the  comi>ounds  of  Xoyo?,  of  motlcrn  combi- 
mition.  I  may  be  asked,  —  why  use  an  exotic,  a  technical  name? 
Why  not  be  contenteil  with  the  more  popular  terms,  Pliilnsopliy 
of  Mind,   or   Mental    IMiilosojihy,  —  Science    of  ]\Iind    or   MentiJ 


92  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   VLU. 

Science? — expressions  by  which  this  department  of  knowledge 
has  been  usually  designated  by  those  who,  in  this  country,  have 
cultivated  it  with  the  most  distinguished  success.  To  tliis  there 
are  several  answers.  In  the  first  place,  philosophy  itself,  and  all,  or 
almost  all,  its  branches,  have,  in  our  language,  received  Greek 
technical  denominations;  —  why  not  also  the  most  important  of 
all,  the  science  of  mind?  In  the  second  place,  the  term  psychology 
is  now,  and  has  long  been,  the  ordinary  expression  for  the  doctrine 
of  mind  in  the  philosojjhical  language  of  every  other  European 
nation.  Nay,  in  point  of  fact,  it  is  now  naturalized  in  English,, 
psychology  and  psychological  having  of  late  yeai's  come  into  com- 
mon use ;  and  their  employment  is  warranted  by  the  authority  of 
the  best  English  writers.  It  was  familiarly  employed  by  one  of 
our  best  Avriters,  and  nujst  acute  metaphysicians,  Principal  Camp- 
bell of  Aberdeen;^  and  Dr.  Beattic,  likewise,  has  entitled. the  first 
part  of  his  Elements  of  Moral  Science^  —  that  which  treats  of  the 
mental  foculties,  —  Psychology.  To  say  nothing  of  Coleridge,  the 
late  Sir  James  Mackintosh  was  also  an  advocate  for  its  employ- 
ment, and  justly  censured  Dr.  Brown  for  not  using  it,  in  place  of 
his  very  reprehensible  expression,  —  Physiology  of  Mind^  the  title 
of  his  imfinished  text-book.^  But  these  are  reasons  in  themselves 
of  comparatively  little  nioment :  they  tend  merely  to  show  thnt,^ 
if  otherwise  expedient,  the  nomenclature  is  permissible  ;  and  that 
it  is  expedient,  the  following  reasons  Avill  prove.  For,  in  the  tliird 
place,  it  is  always  of  consequence  for  the  sake  of  precision  to  be 
able  to  use  one  word  instead  of  a  plurality  of  wtjrds,  —  especially^" 
where  the  frequent  occurrence  of  a  descriptive  appellation  might 
occasion  tedium,  distraction,  and  disgust ;  and  this  must  necessarily 
occur  in  the  treatment  of  any  science,  if  the  science  be  able  to 
possess  no  single  name  vicarious  of  its  definition.  In  this  respect, 
therefore,  Psychology  IS  preferable  Xo  Philosophy  of  Mind.  But, 
in  the  fourth  place,  even  if  the  employment  of  the  description  for 
the  name  could,  in  this  instance,  be  tolerated  when  used  substan- 
tively, what  are  we  to  do  when  we  require,  (which  we  do  unceas- 
ingly,) to  use  the  denomination  of  the  science  adjectively?  For 
example,  I  have  occasion  to  say  a  ^psychological  fiict,  a  psychological 
law,  a  ])sychological  curiosity,  etc.  How  can  Ave  express  these  by 
the  descrij)tive  appellation  ?  A  psychological  fact  may  indeed  be 
styled  a  fact  considered  relatively  to  the  philosophy  of  the  human 
mind, —  a  ])S}chological  law  nuiy  be  called  a  law  by  which  the 


1  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric,  vol.  i.  p.  143,  (1st     losophy.  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica,  vol 
ed.);  p.  123,  (ed.  1816.)— Kd.  i.  p.  399.,  (7th  ed.)  — Ed. 

2  Dissertation  on  the  progress  of  Ethical  Phi- 


Lect.  VIII.  ^i  r.  T  A  r  1 1 Y  s  I  c  s .  93 

mental  phaenomcna  are  governed,  —  a  psychological  curiosity  may 
be  rendered  —  by  what,  I  reaUy  do  not  know.  But  liow  iniserably 
weak,  awkward,  tedious,  and  affected,  is  the  comnnitation  wlien  it 
r.m  be  made;  not-only  do  the  vivacity  and  precision  of  the  original 
evaporate,  the  me:iuin<^  itself  is  not  even  adequately  conveyed. 
But  this  defect  is  still  more  manifestly  shown  when  we  wish  to 
place  in  contrast  the  matters  proper  to  this  science,  with  the  mat 
ters  proper  to  others.  Thus,  for  example,  to  say,  —  this  is  a  psy- 
chological, not  a  ])hysiological,  doctrine  —  this  is  a  psychological 
observation,  not  a  logical  inference.  How  is  the  contradistinction 
to  be  expressed  by  a  periphrasis?  It  is  impossible,  —  for  the  inten- 
sity of  the  contrast  consists,  first,  in  the  two  opposite  terms  being 
single  words,  and  second,  in  their  being  both  even  technical  and 
precise  Greek.  This  necessity  has,  accordingly,  compelled  the 
adoption  of  the  terms  psychology  and  psychological  into  the  phi- 
losophical nomenclature  of  every  nation,  even  where  tlie  same 
necessity  did  not  vindicate  the  employment  of  a  non-Acrnacular 
-expression.  Thus  in  Germany,  though  the  native  language  affords 
a  facility  of  composition  only  inferior  to  the  Greek,  and  though  it 
}>ossesses  a  word  {Seelenlehre)  exactly  correspondent  to  xjwxoXoyLa,  yet 
because  thi&  substantive  did  not  easily  allow  of  an  atljective  flexion, 
the  Greek  terms,  substantive  and  adjective,  were  both  adopted,  and 
have  been  long  in  as  familiar  use  in  the  Empire,  as  the  terms  geog- 
raphy and  geograpliical, — physiology  and  physiological,  are  with  us. 
What  I  have  now  said  may  suffice  to  show  that,  to  supply  neces- 
sity, we  must  introduce  these  words  into  our 
The  terms  riiysioi-  philosophical  vocal)ulary.  But  the  propriety  of 
ogy  and  I'hysics,  i>s       ^]^-^^  j^.   g^jij  f^^y^l^^.^.  J,), own  by  the  inauspicious 

applied  to  tlu' jiliiioso-  i  i  i  i  i  i 

phy  of  mind,  iuappro-       attempts  that  havc  bccu  recently  made  on  the 
priate.  name  of  the  science.     As  I  have  mentioned  be- 

fore, Dr.  Blown,  in  the  very  title  of  the  abridg- 
ment of  his  lect»nes  on  mental  philosophy,  has  styled  this  pliiloso- 
phy,  "77^^  P/ii/sio/f>f/i/  oftlir  Ihnuim  ^fiiid;^''  an<l  I  have  also  seen 
two  English  pul)lications  of  Tuodern  date, — one  entitled  the  '■'■Pln/s- 
ics  of  the  Soul"  the  other  ^'■InfeUectual  JPhi/sirs.''^^  Now  the  term 
nature^  (^vat?,  /m/'ira,)  though  in  common  language  of  a  moi'c 
extensive  meaning,  has,  in  gi'ncral,  l)y  ])liilosopliers,  bi-i'U  applird 
appropriately  to  denote  the  laws  which  govern  the  appearances  of 
the  material  univei-se.  .Vnd  the  words  Physiology  and  Physics 
have  been   specially  limitc<l   to   denote    sciences   conversant   about 

\  InteUfctual  Physics,  an  Essay  concerning  the      concerning  the  Nature  of  Being.   1803.    By  Gcv> 
Nature  of  Btins:  anil  thf  Prntp-fssion  ofrristenrf.      eriior  I'ownall.  —  El>. 
London,  1795.      Inlellertual  Physics,  an  Essay 


94  METAPHYSICS.  Legt.  VIIL 

these  laws  as  regulating  the  phjenomena  of  organic  and  inorganic 
bodies.  Tlie  empire  of  nature  is  the  enijnre  of  a  mechanical  neces- 
sity; the  necessity  of  nature,  in  philosophy,  stands  op})Osed  to  the 
liberty  of  intelligence.  Those,  accordingly,  who  do  not  allow  that 
mind  is  matter, — who  hold  that  there  is  in  man  a  principle  of  action 
superior  to  the  deteniiinations  of  a  physical  necessity,  a  brute  or 
blind  fote  —  must  regard  the  application  of  the  terms  Physiology 
and  Physics  to  the  doctrine  of  the  mind  as  either  singuhirly  ina|)- 
yropriate,  or  as  significant  of  a  fiilse  hypothesis  in  regard  to  the 
character  of  the  thinking  principle. 

Mr.  Stewart  objects^  to  the  term  SpirU,  as  seeming  to  imj)ly  an 
h^niothesis  concerning  the  nature  and  essence 

Spirit,  Soul.  _     ,  .  1  •    1  •  ••11  1 

01  the  sentient  or  thinking  principle,  altogether 
unconnected  with  our  conclusions  in  regard  to  its  phaenomena,  and 
their  general  laws;  and,  for  the  same  reason,  he  is  disposed  to  object 
to  the  words  Pneumatology  and  Psychology ;  the  former  of  which 
was  introduced  by  the  schoolmen.  In  regard  to  Spirit  and  Pneu- 
matology, Mr.  Stewart's  criticism  is  perfectly  just.  They  are  un- 
necessary ;  and,  besides  the  etymological  metaplior,  they  are  asso- 
ciated with  a  certain  theological  limitation,  which  sjioils  them  as 
expressions  of  philosophical  generality.^  But  this  is  not  the  case 
with  Psychology.  For  though,  in  its  etymology,  it  is  like  almost 
all  metaphysical  terms,  originally  of  physical  application,  still  this 
had  been  long  forgotten  even  by  the  Greeks ;  and,  if  we  were  to 
reject  philosophical  expressions  on  this  account,  we  should  be  left 
without  any  terms  foi*  the  mental  phaenomena  at  all.  The  term 
soul,  (and  what  I  say  of  the  term  soul  is  true  of  the  term  spirit^ 
though  in  this  country  less  employed  than  the  term  mind,  may  be 
regarded  as  another  synonym  for  the  unknown  basis  of  the  mental 
phajnomena.  Like  neai'ly  all  the  words  significant  of  the  internal 
world,  there  is  here  a  metaphor  borrowed  from  the  exteraal ;  and 
this  is  the  case  not  merely  in  one,  but,  as  far  as  we  can  trace  the 

analogy,  in  all  languages.  You  are  aware  that 
orrespon  ing  erms       ^v-^-n,  tlic  Greek  term  for  soul,  comes  from  lAuYO), 

in  other  languages.  j    /\ »  t    /\ 

I  breathe  or  blow,  —  as  irvevfjia  in  Greek,  and 
spiritus  in  Latin,  from  verbs   of  the  same   signification.      In   like 

\  Philosophical  Essays,   Prelim.   Dissert,  ch.      spiritual    substances,  —  God. — Angels,    and 

1;   Works,  vol.  V.  p.  20.  Devils,  —  and  Man.    Thus  — 

,,            .  1  [  1- Theologia  (Naturalis), 

Pneumatolo-  „     .        ,  ,  .       r> 

2  [The  terms  Psychology  and  Pneumatolnsy,         prjaorPneu-  J         Angelographia,    Daemon- 

or  Piifinnntic.  are  not  equivalents.    The  latter         matica  '       "'"S'^- 

word  was  used  tor  the  doctrine  of  spirit  in                     '  i  ^"  P*ychologia. 

general,   which  wa.s   subdivided    into   three     — See  Theoph.  Gale,  Gale    Logica,   p.  455- 

branches,  as  it  treated  of  the  three  orders  of      (1681).] 


Lect.  viii.  metaphysics.  95 

manner,  anlma  and  anhnns  are  words  wliieli,  though  in  Latin  they 
have  lost  their  primary  signification,  and  are  only  known  in  their 
secondary  or  metaphorical,  yet,  in  their  original  physical  meaning, 
are  preserved  in  the  Greek  ave/Ao?,  ^oind  or  air.  The  English  smd, 
and  the  German  Seele^  come  from  a  Gothic  root  sair<(I<i^  \\\\\c\\ 
signifies  to  storm.  Ghost,  the  old  English  Avonl  for  sjjirit  in  gen- 
eral, and  so  used  in  our  English  version  of  the  Scriptures,  is  the 
same  as  the  German  6V/.s^,-  and  is  derived  from  Gas,  or  Gesc/it, 
which  signifies  air.  In  like  manner  the  two  words  in  Hebrew  for 
soul  or  spirit,  nephesh  and  ruach,  are  derivatives  of  a  root  wliich 
means  to  breathe;  and  in  Sanscrit  the  word  atmd  (analogous  to 
tlie  Greek  dr/xos,  vapor  or  air)  signifies  both  mind  and  loind  or  «//•;" 
Sapientia,  in  Latin,  originally  meant  only  the  i)ower  of  tasting;  as 
sagacitas  only  the  faculty  of  scenting.  In  French,  penser  comes 
from  the  Latin  pendere,  through  pensare  to  weigh,  and  the  terms, 
attentio,  intoitio,  (entendeme)d,)  coinprehensio,  apjpreJiensio,  pene- 
tndio,  tmderstanding,  etc.,  are  just  so  many  bodily  actions  trans- 
ferred to  the  expression  of  mental  energies.* 

There  is,  therefore,  on  this  ground,  no  reason  to  reject  such  use- 
ful lQvxi\%Q.&  psychology  audi  psychological ;  terms, 
ijy  whom  the  appei-       ^^^^  ^^^^^  -^^  such  general  acceptation  in  the  i)hi- 

lation  I'svchology  first         ,  ,  r.    -n  t  i  i  i 

J    ^^  losophy  of  Europe.     1  may,   however,  add   an 

historical  notice  of  their  introduction.  Aristo- 
tle's principal  treatise  on  the  jihilosoithy  of  mind  is  entitled  IIcpi 
^vyyj^',  but  the  first  author  who  gave  a  treatise  on  the  subject  under 
the  title  Fsychologia,  (which  I  have  observed  to  you  is  a  modern 
compound),  is  Otto  Casmann,  who,  in  the  year  1504,  published  at 
Ilanau  his  very  curious  work,  "  Fsychologia  Anthropologica,  sice 
A7iimm  Ilumanm  J)octriiia."  This  was  followed,  in  two  years,  by 
his  '■'■AidJiropologim  Pars  fl.,  hoc  eM,  d.e  fahrica  ILimaid  0>r- 
poris^  This  author  had  the  merit  of  first  giving  the  name  Afifhro- 
pologia  to  the  science  of  man  in  general,  which  he  diviile<l  into  two 
parts,  —  the  first,  Psy<-ho/>tg/<(,  the  doctrine  of  the  Ilunian  Mind; 
the  second,  Somatologia,  the  doctrine  of  the  Human  Body ;  and 
these  thus  introduced  and  apjdied,  still  continue  to  be  the  usual  ap- 
pellations of  these  branches  of  knowledge  in  Germany.  I  would 
not  say,  however,  that  Casmann  was  the  true  author  of  the   It-rni 

1  See  Grimm,  Deutsche  Gmmmntik.  vol.  ii.  p.  Gale,  Philmtopkia  Generalh.  pp.  321,322.  Prich. 
99.  In  Anglo-Sa.xon,  Sawet,  Sawal,  Sawl,  ard.  Review  of  the  Doctrine  of  a  Vital  Principle^ 
Saul.  — ElK  p.  5,  e.] 

2  Scotch,  Ghnist.  Gastlij.  4  [On  this  point  see  Leibnitz,  Nouv.  Ess.  lib 

3  [See  H.  Schmid,  Versuch  einer  Metnphysik  iii.  c.  i.  §5;  Siew&rX,  Phil.  Essays  — Works.  \o\ 
d'r  innrren  Xnlur.  p.  60,  note.  Scheidlers  Puj-  v.  Essay  v.;  Brown,  Human  UniUrstanding, 
thologie,   pp.  299  .3(11,   320.  W  seg.     Cf.  Thi-op.  ji.  3SS,  ft  .'(?.] 


^6  MKT  A  PHYSICS.  Lect.    VIIL 

psycholo(jii^  for  his  master,  tlie  celebrated  Rudolphiis  Goclenius  of 
Marburg,  published,  also  in  1594,  a  work  entitled,  ">I'v;!(oXoyta,  Aoc 
est^  de  Jroinhiis  Perfections,  A)ihna,  etc,''  being  a  collection  of  dis- 
sertations on  the  subject ;  in  1596  another,  entitled  "Z>e  ^yrceclpiiis 
Materiis  Psycfiolofiicisr  and  in  1597  a  third,  entitled  "  Anthores 
Varii  de  Psyehologia^''  —  so  that  I  am  inclined  to  attiibute  the 
origin  of  the  name  to  Goclenius.  ^  Subsequently,  the  term  became 
the  usual  title  of  the  science,  and  this  chiefly  through  the  authority 
*  of  "Wolf,  whose  two  principal  Avorks  on  the  subject  are  entitled 
"  Psycliohxjia  Empirical''  and  '■'•  PsycJiologia  Patio7ialisP  Charles 
Bonnet,  in  his  "  Essai  de  Psychologies''  ^  familiarized  the  name  in 
France  ;  where,  as  well  as  in  Italy,  —  indeed,  in  all  the  Continental 
countries,  —  it  is  now  the  common  appellation. 

In  the  second  place,  I  said  that  Psychology  is  conversant  about 
the  pJiwnomena  of  the  thinking  subject,  etc.,  and  I  now  proceed  to 
expound  the  import  of  the  correlative  terms  phmnomenon,  subject, 
etc. 

But  the  meaning  of  these  terms  will  be  best  illustrated  by  now 
stating  and  explaining  the  great  axioin,  that  all  human  knowledge, 
consequently  that  all  human  philoso})liy,  is  only  of  the  relatiA»e  or 
j)h{Tenomenal.  In  this  proposition,  the  term  relative  is  opposed  to 
the  term  absolute  ;  and,  therefore,  in  saying  that  we  know  only  the 

relative,  I  virtuallv  assert  that  we  know  nothing 

The  correlative  terms  ,,  ,."  ..  iii  i* 

Pha^uomenon.     Sub-  absolutc,  —  uothmg  cxistmg  absolutely  ;  that  is, 

ject,  illustrated  by  re-  in  and  for  itsclf,  and  without  relation  to  us  and 

ference  to  the  rciativ-  om-  taculties.     I  shall  illustrate  this  by  its  appli- 

1  >  o    lumau    now  -  cation.     Our  knowledo-e  is  either  of  matter  or 

edge.  •^ 

of  mind.  Now,  what  is  matter  ?  What  do  we 
know  of  matter  ?  Matter,  or  body,  is  to  us  the  name  either  of  some- 
thing known,  or  of  something  unknown.  In  so  for  as  matter  is  a 
name  for  something  known,  it  means  that  which  appears  to  us  under 
the  forms  of  extension,  solidity,  divisibility,  figure,  motion,  rough- 
ness, smoothness,  color,  heat,  cold,  etc. ;  in  short,  it  is  a  common 
name  for  a  certain  series,  or  aggregate,  or  complement,  of  aj:)pear- 
ances  or  phaenomena  manifested  in  coexistence. 

But  as  the  phoenomena  apj)ear  only  in  conjunction,  we  are  com- 
pelled by  the  constitution  of  our  nature  to  think  thoni  conjoined  in 
and  by  something;  and  as  tliey  are  phtenomena,  we  cannot  think 
them  the  phaenomena  of  notliing,  but  must  regard  them  as  the  pro- 
perties or  qualities  of  something  that  is  extended,  solid,  figured,  etc. 
But  this  something,  absolutely  and  in  itself,  —  /.  e.  considered  apart 

1  [The  term  psychology  is,  however,  used  by       cnrum   Cnmmuniinn,   prefixed   to   liis   Ciceron 
Joannes  Thomas  Freigius  in  the  Catnlogus  Lo-      ianu^,  1575.     S'.'e  also  Gale,  Logica,  p.  455. J 

2  Publislied  in  1755.  —  Ed. 


Lkct.  viit.  metaphysics.  97 

from  its  phajnomena, — is  to  us  as  zero.  It  is  only  in  its  qualities, 
only  in  its  effects,  in  its  relative  or  pha^nomenal  existence,  that  it  is 
cognizable  or  conceivable ;  and  it  is  only  by  a  law  of  thought,  which 
compels  us  to  think  something,  absolute  and  unknown,  as  the  basis 
or  condition  of  the  relative  and  known,  that  this  something  obtains 
a  kind  of  incomprehensible  reality  to  us.  Now,  that  which  mani- 
fests its  (pialities,  —  in  other  words,  that  in  which  the  appearing 
causes  inhere,  that  to  which  they  belong,  is  called  their  si(hjecf,  or 
substance,  or  substratum.  To  this  subject  of  the  pha^nomena  of  ex- 
tension, solidity,  etc.,  the  term  matter  or  material  substance  is  com- 
monly given ;  and,  therefore,  as  contradistinguished  from  these 
qualities,  it  is  the  name  of  something  unknown  and  inconceivable. 

The  same  is  true  in  regard  to  the  term  mind.  In  so  far  as  mind 
is  the  common  name  for  the  states  of  knowing,  Avilling,  feeling,  de- 
siring, etc.,  of  Avhich  I  am  conscious,  it  is  only  the  name  for  a  certain 
series  of  connected  pha?noniena  or  qualities,  and,  consequently,  ex- 
]iresses  only  what  is  known.  But  in  so  far  as  it  denotes  that  sub- 
ject or  substance  in  which  the  phainomena  of  knowing,  willing,  etc., 
inhere,  —  something  behind  or  under  these  phaenomenn,  —  it  ex- 
]ir(isses  what,  in  itself  or  in  its  absolute  existence,  is  unknown. 

Thus,  mind  and  matter,  as  known  or  knowable,  are  only  two  dif 
ferent  series  of  pluenomena  or  qualities;  mind  and  matter,  as  un- 
known  and  unknowable,  are  the  two  substances  in  which  these  two 
different  series  of  phaenomena  or  qualities,  are  supposed  to  inhere. 
The  existence  of  an  unknown  substance  is  only  an  inference  we  are 
compelled  to  make,  from  the  existence  of  known  phenomena  ;  ami 
the  distinction  of  two  substances  is  only  inferred  from  the  seeming 
incomi)atibility  of  the  two  series  of  pluenomena  to  coinherc  in  one. 

Our  Avhole  knowledge  of  mind  and  matter  is  thus,  as  we  havo 
said,  only  relative  ;  of  existence,  .ibsolutely  and  in  itself,  we  know 
nothim;;  and  we  may  say  of  man  what  Viriiil  savs  of  ^neas,  con- 
templating  in  the  prophetic  sculpture  of  his  shield  the  future  glories 
of  Rome  — 

"  Kerumquo  ignarus,  imagine  gaudct."i 

This  is,  indeed,  a  truth,  in  the  admission  of  which  ])hilosophers,  In 

general,  have  been  singularly  h.arnxniious ;  and 

General  liaimoi.y  of       the  ]>raise  that  lias  l)een   lavished   on  Dr.  Kei<l 

philosoplii'is     regard-         i>.i-         i  ^-  ■  iii  • ..     i        1 

.      ,,       ,  ..  .        ,       for  tins  ouservatu)!!,   is   wliollv  innnented.     In 

in>;    the   rt'lativity    of 

human  knowiod-c.  .  fict,  I  am   hardly  aware  of  the  philosoj^her  who 

has  not  proceeded  on  the  supposition,  and  there 
are  few  mIio  have   not  explicitly  enounced   the  observation.      It  is 

1  ^Eneid,  viii.  730.  —  Kd. 

13 


98  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  VIIL 

only  since  Reid's  death  that  certain  speculators  have  arisen,  who 
have  obtained  celebrity  by  their  attempt  to  found  philoso])hy  on  an 
immediate  knowledge  of  the  absolute  or  unconditioned,  I  shall 
quote  to  you  a  fcAV  examples  of  this  general  recognition,  as  they 
happen  to  occur  to  my  recollection  ;  and,  in  order  to  manifest  the 
better  its  universality,  I  purj)0sely  ovci-look  the  testimonies  of  a 
more  modern  philosophy. 

Aristotle,  among  many  similar  observations,  remarks  in  regard  to 
matter,  that  it  is  incognizable  in  itself;'  while 

Testimonies,  -  of  -^    ^.^  ^    ^^    ^^^j^^^j    J,,/ ^.,y^    u  ^l^.j^    tl,e    intellect 

Aristotle.  ^  .  „     '. 

does  not  know  itself  directly,  bvit  only  in- 
directly, in  knowing  other  things ; "  -  and  he  defines  the  soul  from 
its  ]thaenomena,  "  the   principle  by  which  we  live,  and   move,  and 

perceive,  and  understand."^     St.  Augustin,  the 

St.  Augustin.  1  •      1       n    1        /^i     •     •         /»    1 

most  plnlosophical  oi  the  Christian  lathers,  ad- 
mirably says  of  body,  —  "  Materiam  cognoscendo  ignorari,  et  igno- 
rando  cognosci  ;"*  and  of  mind,  —  "Mens  se  cognoscit  cognoscendo 
se  vivere,  se  meminisse,  se  intelligere,  se  velle,  cogitare,  scire,  judi- 

care."^     "Non    incuiTunt,"    says    Melanchthon, 

Melanchthon.  ,  ,  .        .  ,  ,  , 

"  ipsae  substantiae  m  oculos,  sed  vestitse  et  oi-ii- 
atae  occidentibus  ;  hoc  est,  non  possumus,  in  hac  vita,  acie  oculorum 
perspicere  ipsas  substantias :  sed  utcunque,  ex  accidentibus  qua^  in 
sensus  exteriores  incurrunt,  ratiocinamur,  quomodo  inter  se  differant 
substantiae." " 

It  is  needless  to  multiply  authorities,  but  I  cannot  refrain  fi-om 

adducing  one  other  evidence  of  the  genei*al  con- 

The  elder  Scaliger.  ^      -,  •■,  ,  ,  i      •  i  r. 

sent  01  philosophers  to  the  relative  character  oi 

our  knowledge,  as  affording  a  graphic  specimen  of  the  manner  of  its 

ingenious  author.     "  Substantias  non  a  nobis  cognoscuntur,"  says  the 

elder  Scaliger,  "  sed  earum  accidentia.     Quis  enini  me  doceat  quid 

sit  substantia,  nisi  miseris  illis  verbis,  res  subsistens  f  Seientiam 
ergo  nostram  constat  esse  umbram  in  sole.     Et  sicut  vulpes,  elusa  a 

ciconia,  lambendo  vitreum  vas  jiultem  baud  attingit :  ita  nos  externa 

tantuiu  accidentia  percipiendo,  formas  intenias  non  cognoscimus." '^ 

1  Metapli.  lib.  vii.  (vi.)  c.  10:  f^  D'Aij  SY^oxr-      mana  cogitatio,  conetur  earn  (materiam)  vel 

V     '.->         ^,-T^  1  iiosse    ignoraudo    vel    ignorare    noscendo." 

—  El> 

2  Metaph.^  xii.  ixi.)  7.     Avrhu  5^  you  6  yovs  .  j.^^^  ^,,^  ^p^^^^,^^  ^^^^^.^^  attributed  to 

Kara   /xiraW^'^w   tov    yovroV    yorjThs    yap  ^^   ^^^^,j,^^  entitled   De  Spiritu  a  Anima,  c. 

-yiyv^Tai S,iryavo,u  koL  vowv'  Cf.    De  Amrna,  ^,  ^,^j  ^^^.  ^^^  Tri,uu,te.  lib.  x.  (  16,  torn.  viii. 

iii.  4.     Kal   ainhs  Ze  v(rt)Tos  icniv  Sxrirfp  ra  p.  897.  (ed.  Ben.)    • 

voTjra.  —  Ed.  ,.  Emteniatn  Diali-ctic-.s,  lib.  i.,  Pr.  Substan- 

S  De  Anima,  Jjib.  il.  c.  2.    'H  if/nxv  '''ov-rois  tin.     [Thiff  is  the  text  in  the  edition  of  Strige- 

Spi(7Taj,  dperrTiKiS,  alff^rjriKw   SiavortTiKtS,  lius.     It  varies  considerably  in  different  edi- 

KivTjfffi. — Ed.  tious.  —  Ed.] 

i  Confess,  xii.  5.     "  Dum  sibi  haec  dicit  hu-  '  De  Suhtllitau,  Ex.  cccvii.  §'21 


Lect.  VIII.  METAPHYSICS.  99 

So  far  there  is  no  difference  of  opinion  among  philosophers  in  gen- 
eral. We  know  mind  and  matter  not  in  themselves,  but  in  their 
accidents  or  phaenomena.^ 

Thus  our  knowledge  is  of  relative  existence  only,  seeing  that  ex- 
istence in  itself,  or  absolute  existence,  is  no  ob- 
Aii   relative  exist-      ject  of  knowledge. "     But  it  does  not  follow  that 

ence  not  comprised  in  n        ,      •  •    .  •  i    .•  i  „ 

,  , .      ,  ,•     f    ,         !^11  relative   existence  is  relative  to  v/.s  ,•  that  a  i 

what  IS  relative  to  us.  -> 

that  can  be  known,  even  by  a  limited  intelli- 
gence, is  actually  cognizable  by  us.  We  must,  therefore,  more  pre- 
cisely limit  our  sphere  of  knowledge,  by  adding,  that  all  we  know  is 
known  only  under  the  special  conditions  of  our  faculties.  This 
is  a  truth  likewise  generally  acknowledged.  "Man,"  say;^  Pro- 
tagoras, "  is  the  measure  of  the  imiverse,"  (Trdi'Twv  )(pr]fxdTMv  /xeVpov 
av^/jwTTos), — .a  truth  which  Bacon  has  well  expressed  :  ''  Oiiines  per- 
ceptiones  tam  sensus  quani  mentis,  sunt  ex  analogia  hominis,  non  ex 
analogia  universi :  estque  intellectus  humanus  instar  speculi  inac^ualis 
ad  radios  rerum,  qui  suaiu  uaturam  natura3  rerum  immiscet,  eamque 
distorquet  et  inficit."''  "Omiu'  (|uod  cognoscitur,"  says  Boethius, 
"  npn  secundum  sui  vim,  sed  secundum  cognoscentiuni  potius  com- 
prehenditur  facultatem  ;"  •*  and  this  is  expressed  almost  in  the  sanm 
terms  by  the  two  very  opposite  philosophers,  Kant  and  Condillac, 
— "In  ])erception"  (to  quote  only  the  former)  "  everything  is  known 
according  to  the  constitution  of  our  fiiculty  of  sense."  ^ 

Now  this  principle,  in  which  i)hilosopliers  of  the  mo^^t  opposite 
opinions  equally  concur,  divides  itself  into  two 

This  principle  has       ]„..j„,.],j.j,.    J,,  , ]'„,  first  placc,  it  would  be  uni.Iiil- 

two  branches.  •■  .       ,  1111  •  n 

osophical  to  conclude  that  the  properties  ot 
existence  necessarily  are,  in  number,  only  as  the  number  of  our 
faculties  of  a])])rehending  them  ;  or,  in  the  second,  that  the  jnoper- 
ties  known,  are  known  in  their  native  purity,  and  without  a<ldition 
or  modification  from  our  organs  of  sense,  or  our  capacities  of  intel- 
ligence.    I  shall  illustrate  these  in  their  order. 

In  regard  to  the  first  assertion,  it  is  evident  that  nothing  exists 
for  us,  exce])t  in  so  far  as  it  is  known  to  us,  and  th;it  nothing  is 
known  to  us,  excei)t  certain  ])roi)erties  or  modes  of  existence, 
which  are  relative  or  analogous  to  our  faculties.  Beyond  these 
modes  we  know,  and  can   assert,  the   reality  of  no  existence.     But 

1  For  additional  testimonies  on  this  jioint,  -I  iVoci»m  Organiim,  lih.  i..  K\i\\.  xli.  — Ed. 

see  the  Anihor's  7)i>»m;o(1.s  P- Ci-li.  — l-n-  i  Dr  Cnnsnl.     P/nV.  lih.  v.  I'r.  4.     Quoted  in 

•i  [  .\hsoIuti-  in  two  senses  :  V,  As  opposed  to  Disnissinns,  p.  645.  —  Kl>. 

partial;  2'-'.  As  opi)osid  to  relative.     Hetter  if  •■>  AVi/i/tf/crrein'H  I'-MiKii/^t,  Vorrede  zur /w.i. 

I  had  said  that  our  knowledge  not  of  absolute,  ten  Auflape.     Quoted    in    Disru^^ion^,    n    Mi 

nnd,  therefore,  only  of  the  partial  and  rela-  Cf.  iWi/.  Transc  .iisfh.  4  8.  —  E.i>- 
live.]  —  Pencil  Jotting  on  Blank  Leaf  0/ Lecture. 


100  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   VIII 

if,  on  the  one  hand,  we  are  not  entitled  to  assert  as  actually  exist- 
ent except  what  we  know ;  neither,  on  the  other, 
1.  The  number  of       are  we  Warranted  in  denying,  as  possibly  exist- 
ihe  properties  of  ex-       g^t^  ^.j^at  wc  do  not  know.     The  universe  may 

jsteiice  not  necessarily         ,  .        ■,  ,  n  t  -i 

.,  u      r  '>e  conceived  as  a  polycfon  oi  a  thousand,  or  a 

•dg  tlie  number  of  our  l       JO  ' 

powers  of  apprehen-       hundred  thousand,  sides  or  facets,  —  and  each  of 
''io"  these  sides  or  facets  may  be  conceived  as  rep- 

resenting one  sj^ecial  mode  of  existence.  Now, 
of  these  thousand  sides  or  modes  all  may  be  equally  essential,  but 
three  or  four  only  may  be  turned  towards  us  or  be  analogous  to  our 
organs.  One  side  or  facet  of  the  universe,  as  holding  a  relation  to 
the  opgan  of  sight,  is  the  mode  of  luminous  or  visible  existence; 
another,  as  propoitional  to  the  organ  of  liearing,  is  the  mode  of 
sonorous  or  audible  existence ;  and  so  on.  But  if  every  eye  to  see, 
if  every  ear  to  hear,  were  annihilated,  the  modes  of  existence  to 
which  these  organs  now  stand  in  relation,  —  that  M'hich  could  be 
seen,  that  Avhich  could  be  heard,  would  still  remain  ;  and  if  the  in- 
telligences, reduced  to  the  three  senses  of  touch,  smell,  and  taste, 
were  then  to  assert  the  inijjossibility  of  any  modes  of  being  except 
those  to  which  these  three  senses  were  analogous,  the  procedure 
would  not  be  more  unwarranted,  than  if  we  now  ventured  to  deny 
the  possible  reality  of  other  modes  of  material  existence  than  those 
to  the  perception  of  which  our  five  senses  are  accommodated.  I 
will  illustrate  this  by  an  hypothetical  parallel.  Let  us  suj)pose  a 
block  of  marble,^  on  which  there  are  four  different  inscriptions, — 
in  Greek,  in  Latin,  in  Persic,  and  in  Hebrew,  and  that  four  trav- 
ellers approach,  each  able  to  read  only  the  inscription  in  his  native 
toumio.  The  Greek  is  deliijhted  with  the  information  the  marble 
aifords  him  of  the  siege  of  Troy.  The  Roman  finds  interesting 
matter  regarding  the  expulsion  of  the  kings.  The  Persian  deciphers 
an  oracle  of  Zoroaster.  And  the  Jew  is  surprised  by  a  commemo- 
ration of  the  Exodus.  Here,  as  each  inscription  exists  or  is  signifi- 
cant only  to  him  who  possesses  the  corresponding  language ;  so  the 
several  modes  of  existence  are  manifested  only  to  those  intelli- 
gences who  possess  the  corresponding  organs.  And  as  each  of  the 
four  readers  would  be  rash  if  he  maintained  that  the  marble  could 
be  significant  only  as  significant  to  him,  so  should  we  be  rash,  were 
we  to  hold  that  the  universe  had  no  other  phases  of  being  than  the 
few  that  are  tui-ned  towards  our  faculties,  and  which  our  five  senses 
enable  us  to  perceive.  • 

1  This  illustration  is  taken  from  F.  Hemsterhuis,  Sophyle  ou  de  la  PhilosophU  —(Euvrti  Phil 
•fophiques,  vol.  i.  p.  281,  (ed.  1792.)—  Ed. 


I-ECT.  VIII.  METAPHYSICS.  101 

Voltaire,  (ah'i'd  ageudo).,  has  ingoiiiously  expressed  this  truth  in 

one  of  his  pliilosophical  romances.     "  Tell  me," 

Illustrated  from  Vol-  Microme<ras,  an  inhabitant  of  one   of  the 

(aire. 

planets  of  the  Dog-Star,  to  the  secretary  of  the 
Academy  of  Sciences  in  the  planet  Saturn,  at  which  he  had  re- 
cently arrived,  in  a  journey  through  the  heavens,  —  "  Tell  me,  Imw 
many  senses  have  the  men  on  your  globe?  "  —  "  We  have  seventy- 
two  senses,"  answered  the  academician,  "  and  we  are,  every  day, 
comjjlaining  of  the  smallness  of  the  number.  Our  imagination 
foc's  far  beyond  our  wants.  AVhat  are  seventv-two  senses  !  and 
how  ])itiful  a  boundary,  even  for  beings  with  such  limited  jtercep- 
tions,  to  be  cooped  up  within  our  ring  and  our  five  moons.  In  spite 
of  our  curiosity,  and  in  spite  of  as  many  passions  as  can  result  from 
six  dozen  of  senses,  we  find  our  hours  hang  very  heavily  on  our 
hands,  and  can  always  find  time  enough  for  yawning."  —  "I  can 
\-ery  well  believe  it,"  says  Micromegas,  "  for,  in  our  globe,  we  have 
very  near  one  thousand  senses;  and  yet,  with  all  these,  Ave  feel  con- 
tinually a  sort  of  listless  inquietude  and  vague  desire,  which  are 
forever  telling  us  that  we  are  nothing,  and  that  there  are  beings 
infinitely  nearer  perfection.  T  have  travelled  a  good  deal  in  the 
universe.  I  have  seen  many  classes  of  mortals  far  beneath  us,  and 
many  as  much  superior ;  but  I  have  never  had  the  good  fortune  to 
meet  with  any  who  had  not  always  more  desires  tlian  real  necessi- 
ties to  occupy  their  life.  And  pray,  how  long  may  you  Saturnians 
live,  with  your  few  senses?"  continued  the  Sirian.  "Ah!  but  a 
very  sliort  time  indeed  !  "  said  the  little  man  of  Saturn,  with  a  sigh. 
"  It  is  the  same  with  us,"  said  the  traveller ;  "  we  are  forever  com- 
])laining  of  the  shortness  of  life.  It  must  be  an  uniNcrsal  law  (tf 
nature."  —  "Alas!"  said  the  Saturnian,  "Ave  live  only  Ww  Imndred 
great  revolutions  of  the  sun,  (which  is  })retty  much  aliout  fiftceu 
thousand  years  of  our  counting).  You  see  Avell,  that  this  is  t(^  die 
almost  the  moment  one  is  born.  Our  existence  is  a  point, —  our 
duration  an  instant,  —  our  globe  an  atom.  Scarcely  have  Ave  begun 
to  i)ick  up  a  little  knowledge,  Avhen  death  rushes  in  upon  us,  Itefore 
we  can  have  acquired  anything  like  experience.  As  for  me,  I  can- 
not venture  even  to  think  of  any  ])roject.  I  feel  myself  but  like  a 
drop  of  Avater  in  the  ocean  ;  an<l,  especially  now,  Avhen  I  look  to 
you  and  to  myself,  I  really  feel  quite  ashamed  of  the  ridiculous 
a[>))earance  Avhich  I  cut  in  the  uni\ersc." 

"  If  I  did  not  know  you  to  be  a  philosophei,"'  replied  Microme- 
gas, "  I  should  be  afraid  of  distressing  you,  Avhen  1  tell  you,  that 
our  life  is  seven  hundred  times  longer  than  yours.  But  Avhat  is 
even  that?  and,  when  we  come  to  the  last  moment,  to  have  lived  a 


102  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  VIIL 

single  day,  and  to  have  lived  a  whole  eternity,  amount  to  the  same 
thing.  I  have  been  in  countries  where  they  live  a  thousand  times 
longer  than  with  us ;  and  I  have  always  found  them  murmuring, 
just  as  we  do  ourselves.  But  you  have  seventy-two  senses,  and 
they  must  have  told  you  something  about  your  globe.  How  many 
properties  has  matter  Avith  you  ?  "  —  "  If  you  mean  essential  prop- 
erties,"" said  the  Saturnian,  "  without  Avhich  our  globe  could  not 
subsist,  we  count  three  hundred,  —  extension,  impenetrability,  mo- 
bility, gravity,  divisibility,  and  so  forth."  —  "That  small  nimiber," 
replied  the  gigantic  traveller,  "  may  be  sufficient  for  the  views 
which  the  Creator  must  have  had  with  respect  to  your  narrow  hab- 
itation. Your  globe  is  little  ;  its  inhabitants  are  so  too.  You  have 
few  senses  ;  your  matter  has  few  qualities.  In  all  this,  Providence 
has  suited  you  most  haj^pily  to  each  other." 

"  The  academician  was  more  and  more  astonished  with  every- 
thing which  the  traveller  told  him.  At  length,  after  communicating 
to  each  other  a  little  of  what  they  knew,  and  a  great  deal  of  what 
they  knew  not,  and  reasoning  as  well  and  as  ill  as  philosophers 
usually  do,  they  resolved  to  set  out  together  on  a  little  tour  of  the 
universe."  ^ 

Before  leaving  this  subject,  it  is  perhaps  projier  to  observe,  that 
had  we  faculties  equal  in  number  to  all  the  possible  modes  of  exist- 
ence, whether  of  mind  or  matter,  still  would  our  knowledge  of 
mind  or  matter  be  only  relative.  If  material  existence  could  ex- 
hibit ten  thousand  phaniomena,  and  if  we  ])ossessed  ten  thousand 
senses  to  ap])rehend  these  ten  thousand  i^liaenomcna  of  material 
existence, —  of  existence  absolutely  and  in  itself,  we  should  be  then 
as  ignorant  as  we  are  at  present. 

But  the  consideration  that  our  actual  faculties  of  knowledge  are 

probal)ly  wholly  inadequate  in  number  to  the 

:2.  The  properties  of       possible  modes  of  being,   is  of  comparatively 

existence   not  known  .  i  i  i  .  ,  . 

in  their  native  purity.       ^^^^  nupoitance  tluiu  the  Other  consideration  to 

which  we  now  proceed,  —  that  whatever  we 
know  is  not  known  as  it  is,  but  only  as  it  seems  to  us  to  be  ;  for  it 
is  of  less  importance  that  our  knowledge  should  be  limited  than 
that  our  knowledge  should  be  pure.  It  is,  therefore,  of  the  highest 
moment  that  we  should  be  aware  that  what  we  know  is  not  a  sira- 
]»le  relation  apprehended  betAveen  the  object  known  and  the  subject 
knowing,  —  but  that  every  knowledge  is  a  sum  made  up  of  several 
elements,  and  that  the  great  business  of  philoso])hy  is  to  analyze 
and  discriminate  these  elements,  and  to  determine  from  whence 
these    contributions   have   been   derived.     I  shall  explain   what   1 

1  Mieromcgas,  chap,  ii   —  Ed. 


Lect.  Vm.  METAPHYSICS.  108 

mean,  by  an  example.     In  the  perception  of  an  external  object,  the 

mind  does  not  know   it  in  immediate  relation 
Illustrated  by  ti.e       ^^  j^^^j^^^  ^^^^^   mediatolv  in  relation  to  the  ma- 
act  of  perception.  '  tc  ^v.        ^ 

terial  organs  oi  sense.  It,  thereiore,  we  were  to 
throw  these  organs  out  of  consideration,  and  did  not  take  into 
account  whnt  they  contribute  to,  and  how  they  modify,  our  knowl- 
edge of  that  object,  it  is  evident,  that  our  conclusion  in  regard  to 
the  nature  of  external  })erceptiou  would  be  erroneous.  Again,  an 
object  of  ])erception  may  not  even  stand  in  immediate  relation  to 
the  org.in  of  sense,  but  may  make  its  impi-ession  on  that  organ 
throufrh  an  interveninir  medium.  Now,  if  this  medium  be  thrown 
out  of  account,  and  if  it  l>e  not  considered  that  the  real  external 
object  is  the  sum  of  all  that  externally  conti'ibutes  to  aftcct  the 
sense,  we  shall,  in  like  manner,  run  into  error.  For  example,  I  see 
a  book,  —  I  see  that  book  through  an  external  medium,  (what  that 
medium  is,  we  do  iiot  now  imjuirc,) — and  I  see  it  through  my 
organ  of  sight,  the  eye.  Now,  as  the  full  object  presented  to  the 
mind  (observe  that  I  say  the  mind),  in  j^erception,  is  an  object 
<-()nipoundcd  of  the  external  object  emitting  or  reflecting  light,  /.  t . 
niodifving  the  external  medium,  — of  this  external  medium,  —  and 
of  the  living  organ  of  sense,  in  their  mutual  relation,  —  let  us  sup- 
pose, in  the  example  I  have  taken,  that  the  full  or  adequate  object 
)  crceived  is  equal  to  twelve,  and  that  this  amount  is  made  up  of 
three  several  parts, — of  four,  coiitributctl  by  the  book,  —  of  four, 
contribnt('(l  by  all  that  intervenes  between  the  book  and  tlie  organ, 
and  of  lour,  contributed  by  the  living  organ  itself.^ 

I  use  tliis  illustration  to  show,  that  the  ])lKenomen()n  of  the  ex- 
ternal object  is  not  presented  immediately  to  the  mind,  but  is 
known  by  it  only  as  moditicd  through  certain  intermediate  agencies; 
and  to  show  that  sense  itself  may  be  a  source  of  error,  if  we  do 
not  analyze  and  distinguish  what  elements,  in  an  act  of  j)erception, 
belong  to  the  outward  reality,  what  to  the  outwaiil  ineijium,  and 
wliat  to  the  action  of  sense  itself  But  this  source  of  error  is  not 
limited  to  our  ]>erceptions ;  and  we  are  liable  to  be  deceived,  not 
merely  by  not  distinguishing  in  an  act  of  knowledge  what  is  con- 
tributed by  sense,  but  by  not  distinguishing  what  is  contributed  by 
the  mind  itself  Tliis  is  the  nutst  difficult  and  ini|iortant  function  of 
philosophy;  and  the  greater  number  of  its  higlur  prolilems  arise  in 
the  attempt  to  determine  the  shares  to  which  the  knowing  subject, 
and  the  object  known,  may  pretend  in  the  total  act  of  cognition. 
For  according  as  we  attribiUe  a  large  r  ov  a   smaher  proportion  to 

1  This  illustrntion   is   borrowed    in    un   im-      Snphylf  oh  ilt  In  Philosophif  —  CSufrrx  Philoso 
proved  form  from  F.  Hemsterlniis.     See  his      phiqurf.  i.  279.  —  Ed. 


104  MKTAPHYSICS.  Lkct.    VI  I 

each,  we  either  run  into  tlie  extremes  of  Idealism  and  Mnteriaiisni, 
or  maintain  an  equilibrium  between  the  two.  But,  on  this  subject, 
it  would  be  out  of  place  to  say  anything  further  at  present. 

From  what  has  been  said,  you  Avill  be  able,  I  hope,  to  understand 

what  is  meant  by  the  ])r:)position,  that  all  our 

In  what  senses  hu-       knowledge  Is  Only  relative.     It  is  relative,  1°, 

man  knowledge  is  rel-  ,  .  •      i  i         i       i         i 

^jjyg  because  existence  is  not  cognizable,  absolutely 

and  in  itself,  but  only  in  special  modes;  2°, 
Because  these  modes  can  Ue  known  only  if  they  stand  in  a  certain 
relation  to  our  faculties ;  and,  3°,  Because  the  modes,  thus  relative 
to  our  faculties,  are  presented  to,  and  known  by,  the  mind  only 
under  modifications  determined  by  these  faculties  themselves.  This 
general  doctrine  being  j^remised,  it  Avill  be  proper  now  to  take  some 
special  notice  of  the  several  terms  significant  of  the  relative  nature 
of  our  knowledge.  And  here  there  are  two  opposite  series  of  ex- 
pressions, —  1°,  Those  Avhich  denote  the  relative 
Two  opposite  series       ^^^  ^^^  known  ;    2°,  Thosc   which  denote  the 

of  terms  as  applied  to  /^r^      i         r 

human  knowledge.  absolute    and   the    unknown.      Ot    the   tormer 

class,  are  the  woixls  p/i/t^iw/nenon,  mocfe,  modifi- 
c:atioH,  state,  —  words  which  are  employed  in  the  definition  of  Psy- 
chology ;  and  to  these  may  be  added  the  analogous  terms,  —  quaUty, 
iwoperty,  attribute,  accident.  Of  the  latter  class,  —  that  is,  the  abso- 
lute  and  the  imknown,  —  is  the  word  subject,  which  mc  have  to 
explain  as  an  element  of  the  definition,  and  its  analogous  expres- 
sions, substance  and  substraticii}.  These  opposite  classes  cannot  be 
explained  apart ;  for,  as  each  is  correlative  of  the  other,  each  can 
be  comprehended  only  in  and  through  its  correlative. 

The    term    subject    (subjectmn,   vTroo-racrts,    viroKeifxevov)    is    used    tO 
denote  the  unknown  basis  which  lies  under  the 

The  term  Subject.  .  •  r.       i  •    i 

various  jihaenomena  or  properties  ot  which  we 
become  aware,  whether  in  our  internal  or  external  experience.  In 
tlie  more  recent  philosophy,  es])ecially  in  that  of  Germany,  it  has^ 
however,  been  principally  employed  to  denote  the  basis  of  the 
various  mental  phaiiiomena ;  but  of  this  special  signification  we  are 

hereafter  more  particularly  to  speak.'  The  word 
substance  {substantia)  may  be  employed  in  two^ 
but  two  kindred,  meanings.  It  may  be  used  either  to  denote  that 
which  exists  absolutely  and  of  itself;  in  this  sense  it  may  be  viewed 
as  derived  from  subsiste/zdo,  nnd  as  meaning  ens  per  se  subsistens/ 
or  it  may  be  viewed  as  the  basis  of  attributes,  in  which  sense  it  may 
be  regarded  as  derived  from  substando,  and  as  meaning  id  quod 

1  For  the  liistory  and  various  meanings  of      note,  lit  (V/'s  IVurlcs,  p.  806.    See  also  Trendel. 
the  terms  Subject  and  Object,  see  the  Author's      enburg.  Elrmfnta  Logices  AristoteliceK,^  1. — Ed. 


Lkct.   VIII.  METAPHYSICS.  105 

substat  aecidentibus^  like  the  Greek  {m-oo-Tao-is,  viroKUfxevov.  In  eitlver 
case  it  will,  however,  signify  the  same  thing,  viewed  in  a  different 
aspect.  In  the  former  meaning,  it  is  considered  in  contrast  to,  and 
independent  of,  its  attribntes ;  in  the  latter,  as  conjoined  with  these, 
and  as  affording  them  the  condition  of  existence.  In  different  rela- 
tions, a  thing  may  be  at  once  considered  as  a  substance,  and  as  an 
(ittri-bute,  quality,  or  mode.  Tliis  |)aper  is  a  substance  in  i-elation  to 
the  attribute  of  white;  but  it  is  itself  u  mode  in  rcl.itiou  to  the  sub- 
stance, matter.  Substance  is  thus  a  term  for  the  substivitum  we  are 
obliged  to  think  to  all  that  we  variously  denominate  a  modcy  a  state., 
a  quality,  an  attribute,  ^property,  an  accident,  ^ pfianumienon,  an  ap)- 
pearance,  etc.  These,  though  expressions  generically  the  same,  are, 
however,  used  with  S2)ecific  distinctions.  The  terms  mode,  state, 
quality,  attribute,  pi'opjerty,  accident,  are  employed  \\\  reference  to  a 
substance,  as  existing ;  the  terms  phfunoraenon ,  aj)pearance^  etc.  in 
reference  to  it,  as  known.    But  each  of  these  expressions  has  also  its 

peculiar  signification.  .V  )node  is  the  manner  of 
the  existence  of  a  thing.  Take,  for  example,  a 
piece  of  wax.  The  wax  may  be  round,  or  square,  or  of  any  other 
definite  figure  ;  it  may  also  be  solid,  or  fluid.  Its  existence  in  any 
of  these  modes  is  not  essential;  it  may  change  from  one  to  the 
other  without  any  substantial  alteration.  As  the  mode  cannot  exist 
without  a  substance,  we  can  accord  to  it  only  a  secondary  or  preca- 
rious existence  in  relation  to  the  substance,  to  which  we  accord  the 
privilege  of  existing  by  itself,  ^9er  se  e'xistere;  but  though  the  sub- 
stance be  not  astricted  to  any  particular  mode  of  existence,  we 
must  not  su])pose  that  it  can  exist,  or,  at  least,  be  conceived  by  us 
to  exist  in  none.  All  modes  are,  tlierefore,  variable  states;  and 
though  some  mode  is  necessary  for  the  existence  of  a  thing,  any 

individual  mode  is  accidental.    Tlio  word  inodl- 

ModificatiDii.  ...  i  i         i     •        •  i  •  •     ^ 

pcation  IS  jirojxTly  the   bnugmg  a  tiling  into  a 
certain  mode  of  existence,  but  it  is  vciy  commonly  em|iloyed  for 

the  mode  of  existence  itself.     State  is  a  term 
nearlv  svnonvmous  with  mode,  l)ut  of  a  mean- 
ing  more  e\tiMisiv(\  as  not  exclusively  limitc*!  to  the  mutable  ami 
contingent. 

Quidity  is,  likewise,  a  Avord  of  a  wider  signification,  for  therr  an- 
essential  and  a<(idcntal  qualities.'  Tlic  essential  (|ualities  of  a  thing 
are  those  ajilitudes,  those  inMuncis  of  existence  and  action,  whi<-li 
it  cannot  lose  without  ceasing  to  be.  For  examph'.  in  man  the 
faculties  of   sense    mid    intelligence;    in    body,   the    dimensions  of 

1  Till'  ffrm  i/iKi'iii/  ,-li<)!i'.«!.  i:i  .-1:  ic":  i->- .  be   ciaiJlu-d    In   acc-iiV-iital   jittributes.     Sep   the 
Author's  nolo,  Keift's  Wtirk-s   \>   t^i'-  —  l-,i>. 

u 


106  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  VIIL 

length,  breadth,  and  thickness ;  in  God,  the  attributes  of  eternity, 

omniscience,  omnipotence,  etc.      By  accidental 
(juaiity,    Essential       qualities,  are  meant  those  aptitudes  and  manners 

and    accidental.  ^  i  •  i  •    i  i 

of  existence  and  action,  which  substances  have 
at  one  time  and  not  at  another ;  or  which  they  liave  always,  but 
may  lose  Avithout  ceasing  to  be.  For  example,  of  the  transitory 
class  are  the  whiteness  of  a  wall,  the  health  which  we  enjoy,  the 
fineness  of  the  weather,*  etc.  Of  the  permanent  class  are  the  grav- 
ity of  bodies,  the  periodical  movement  of  the  planets,  etc. 

The  term  attribute  is  a  word  properly  convertible  with  quality, 

for  cA'cry  quality  is  an  attribute,  and  every  at- 

Attribute.  „  .  i'-.  i      ,      •  ^ 

tribute  IS  a  quality ;  but,  in  our  language,  cus- 
tom has  introduced  a  certain  distinction  in  their  application.  Attri- 
bute is  considered  as  a  word  of  loftier  significance,  and  is,  there- 
fore, conventionally  limited  to  qualities  of  a  higher  application. 
Thus,  for  example,  it  would  be  felt  as  indecorous  to  speak  of  the 
qualities  of  God,  and  as  ridiculous  to  talk  of  the  attributes  of 
matter. 

Property  is  correctly  a  synonym  for  peculiar  quality  ;^  but  it  is 

frequently  used  as  coextensive  with  quality  in 

Property.    Accident.  i  <       .  t  i  •  i 

general.  Accident^  on  the  contrary,  is  an  ab- 
breviated expression  for  accidental  or  contingent  quality. 

Phcenomenon  is  the  Greek  word  for  that  which  ai)pears,  and  may 
therefore  be  translated  by  (qyyearance.  There 
IS,  however,  a  distinction  to  be  noticed.  In  the 
first  place,  the  employment  of  the  Greek  term  shows  that  it  is  used 
in  a  strict  and  philosophical  application.  In  the  second  i)lace,  the 
English  name  is  associated  Avith  a  certain  secondary  or  imijlied 
meaning,  Avhich,  in  some  degree,  renders  it  inappropriate  as  a  pre- 
cise and  definite  expression.  For  the  terra  appearance  is  used  to 
denote  not  only  tliat  Avhieh  reveals  itself  to  our  obserA^ation,  as 
existent,  but  also  to  signify  that  which  only  seems  to  be,  in  contrast 
to  that  Avhich  truly  is.  There  is  thus  not  merely  a  certain  A'ague- 
ness  in  the  Avord,  but  it  even  iuA^olves  a  kind  of  contradiction  to 
the  sense  in  Avhich  it  is  used  when  employed  for  phoinomenon.  In 
consequence  of  this,  the  term  phjenomenon  has  been  naturalized  in 
our  language,  as  a  i:)hilosophical  substitute  for  the  term  appearance. 

1  In  the  older  and  Aristotelian  sense  of  the  the  later  Logicians,  the  term  jiroperiy  was  les» 

term.     See  ro|)/>5.  i.  5:    "Xhiov  h'  iarXv  %  /xr]  correctly  used  to  denote  a  necessary  quality, 

Sri\o7  ixfv  rh  ri   ■ffv  duat,  ix6vcfi  S^  inrdpx^^  whether  peculiar  or  not. — Ed. 
Ka(   ain-iKaTTqyopurai  rod  ■Kpdyfxaros.       By 


LECTURE    IX. 

EXPLICATION    OF    TERMS  —  RELATIVITY    OF    HUMAN 

KNOWLEDGE. 


After  giving  a  definition  of  Psycliology,  or  the  Philosophy  of 
Mijid,   in    which    I    endeavored   to   conii)rise  a 

Kecapitulation.  ■  c  •  ■,  i  •  ,» 

variety  oi  exj)ressions,  tlie  ex])hination  of  which 
miglit  smooth  the  way  in  our  sul)se({uent  progress,  I  was  engaged, 
during  my  last  Lecture,  in  illustrating  the  principle,  that  all  our 
knowledge  of  mind  and  matter  is  merely  relative.  We  know,  and 
can  know,  lu^thing  absolutely  aiul  in  itself:  all  that  we  know  is 
existence  in  certain  special  forms  or  modes,  and  these,  likewise, 
only  in  so  far  as  thev  mav  he  an.ilo'^ous  to  our  faculties.  We  mav 
.suppose  existence  to  have  a  thousand  modes;  —  but  these  thousand 
models  are  all  to  \is  as  zero,  unless  we  possess  faculties  accommo- 
dated to  their  n)>|u-ehension.  But  Avere  the  number  of  our  facul- 
ties coextensive  with  the  modes  of  being,  —  had  we,  for  eacli 
of  these  thousand  modes,  a  se]iarate  organ  comjietent  to  make  it 
known  to  us,  —  still  would  our  whole  knowledge  be,  as  it  is  at 
present,  only  of  the  relative.  Of  existence,  absolutely  and  in  itself, 
■we  shotdfl  then  l)e  as  ignorant  as  we  are  now.  We  should  stil.' 
ap]»rehend  existence  only  in  certain  special  modes,  —  only  in  cim- 
tain  relations  to  our  faculties  of  knowledge. 

Tjiese  relative  modes,  whether  bi'longing  to  tlie  world  without 
or  to  the  world  witliin,  are,  uiuler  difterent  ])oints  of  view  and  dif- 
ferent limitations,  known  under  various  names,  as  qualities^  p;*o/)er- 
//V.S-,  essence^  accldtiits^  i>h<vnonieii(i^  iiKinifestatlons.  (ippenraiwesi 
and  so  forth;  —  whci-eas  the  unknown  something  of  which  thev 
are  the  modes,  —  the  nnknuwn  grouinl,  which  affords  them  support, 
is  usually  termed  tlu'ir  .sKhstniicc  or  siil>)<'<-t.  Of  the  signification 
and  differences  of  these  expressions,  T  stated  onlv  ^hat  was  ncces- 
.^ary  in  onler  to  alfoid  a  gi'neiai  notion  of  their  phih)sophical  appli- 
cation. iSnbsta/tcc,  (suhxtintthu)  I  noticed,  is  considered  either  in 
contrast  to  its  accidents,  as  vi k  jwr  se  .•ii(f»s/sfinN,  or  in  connection 
with  them,  as  iil  qnoj  Kultfittif  iirrithntihiis.      It,  therefore,  compre- 


108  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  IX. 

hends  Loth  the  Greek  terms  ova-La  and  vTroKeifxevov,  —  ovaM  beinc^ 
equivalent  to  substcuttla  in  the  meaning  of  ens  per  se  suhslstens;  — 
vTTOKeLfievov  to  it,  as  id  quod  substat  uccideiitlbus}  Tlie  term  sf/bject 
is  used  only  for  substance  in  its  second  meaning,  and  thus  corres- 
j)onds  to  xmoK£LiJi€vov ;  its  literal  signification  is,  as  its  etymology 
expresses,  that  which  lies,  or  is  placed,  under  the  phsenomena.  So 
much  for  the  terms  s%d)stanc€  and  subject,  significant  of  unknown  or 
absolute  existence. 

I  then  said  a  few  words  on  the  differences  of  the  A-arious  terms 
expressive  of  known  or  relative  existence,  mode,  niodification,  state^ 
<[u<dity,  attribute,  proiterty,  p/ui^)iouieiion,  apj^earance;  but  what  I 
stated  I  do  not  think  it  necessary  to  recapitulate. 

I  at  present  avoid  entering  into  the  metaphysics  of  substance 
and  i)liienomenon.     I  shall  only  obsei-ve  in  geii- 

riiiiosophei-s  have       pj-.j]^  ^\y^^^  philosophers  have  frequently  fallen  into 

fallen  into  three  (lif-r  ^,  0^1  ->•  i\'  <-. 

.      ^  ,        one   or  other  01   three   difterent   ei-rors.     Some 

ferent  errors    regard- 
ing Substance.  liave  denied  the  reality  of  any  unknown  ground 

of  the  known  phaMiomena;  and  have  maintained 
that  niiiid  and  matter  have  no  substantial  existence,  but  are  merely 
the  two  complements  of  two  series  of  associated  qualities.  This 
^xloctrine  is,  however,  altogether  futile.  It  belies  the  veracity  of 
our  primary  beliefs ;  it  leaves  unsatisfied  the  strongest  necessities 
of  our  intellectual  nature ;  it  admits  as  a  fiict  that  the  phamomena 
are  connected,  but  allow^s  ho  cause  explanatory  of  the  fact  of  their 
connection.  Others,  again,  have  fallen  into  an  opposite  error. 
The}'  have  attempted  to  speculate  concerning  the  nature  of  the 
unknown  grounds  of  the  phasnomena  of  mind  and  matter,  ■^part 
from  the  phaeiiomena,  and  have,  accordingly,  transcended  the  legiti- 
mate sphere  of  philosophy.  A  third  party  have  taken  some  one, 
or  more,  of  the  }>l:\Tenomena  themselves  as  the  basis  or  substratum 
of  the  others.  Thus  Descartes,  at  least  as  understood  and  followed 
by  Mallebranche  and  others  of  his  disciples,  made  thought  or  con- 
sciousness convertible  with  the  substance  of  mind;-  and  Bishops 
Brown  and  Law,  with  Dr.  Watts,  constituted  solidity  and  extension 


1  'TTTOO-Toffis,  Ikmc  noted,  by  way  of  interpo-  nificat  id  tjuod  revfrn  fst^  etiamsi  est  commu- 
tation, as  of  theological  application.  [On  this  nicatuin.  'Tiri^TOMris  autein  sen  Persnua  est 
point  see  Melanchthon,  Erot.  Dial.  (Strigelii)  subsistens,  vivuni,  individuum,  iutelligens, 
p.  145,  et  sc:;.  '•  In  philosophia,  generaliter  incoramunicabile,  non  sustentatum  in  alio." 
nomine  Essentia  utimur  pro  re  per  sese  consi-  Compare  the  relative  annotatipn  by  Strigel- 
fJerata.  sive  sit  in  priedicaniento  snbstanti:r,  >""!  ""*'  Hocker,  C/avix  Phil.  Arist.  p.  :3i)l.  — 
sive  sit  accidens.      At   VTr6(rTa(ns   significat  Ed.^ 

rem  .^tilsisieniem ,  qu;e  opponitur  accidentibus.  -  Principia,  pars  i.  §  98,51--53.   On  this  point 

Ecclesia  vero  cum  qnodani  discrimine  his  vo-  see  Stewart,   Works,  vol.  ii.  p.   473,   note  A. 

cabulis  utitur.    Nam  vocabulum  E.sjfnn'as  sig-  — Ed. 


Li.CT.  IX.  METAPHYSICS.  109 

into  tlic  substance  of  body.     This  theory  is,  however,  liable  to  all 
the  objections  which  may  be  allei^ed  against  the  first.' 

I  defined   Psycliology,  the   science  conversant   about   the  2)/ue- 

nomena  of  the  7nind,  or  conscioHs-xahjecf,  or  self, 

p  ana  ion    o         ^j.  ^^  T\\G  former  parts  of  the  definition  have 

terms  — (continued.)  '  .  ' 

been  explained;  the  terms  mind,  consclous-sKh- 
Ject,  self,  and  ego,  come  now  to  be  considered.  These  are  all  only 
expressions  for  the  unknown  basis  of  the  mental  i)liainomena, 
viewed,  however,  in  different  relations. 

Of  these  the  word  mind  is  the  first.     In  regard  to  the  etymology 

of  this  term,^  it  is  obscure  and  doubtful ;   per- 

haps,  mdeed,  none  oi  the  attemi)ts  to  trace  it 
to  its  origin  are  successful.  It  seems  to  hold  an  analogy  with  the 
Latin  mens,  and  both  are  ])robal)ly  derived  from  the  same  common 
root.  Tins  root,  which  is  lost  in  the  European  languages  of  Scytho- 
Indian  origin,  is  probably  preserved  in  the  Sanscrit  mena,  to  know 
or  understmid.  The  Greek  vov^,  intelligence,  is,  in  like  manner, 
derived  from  a  verb  of  precisely  the  same  meaning  (j/oeoj).  The 
word  mind  is  of  a  more  limited  signification  than  the  term  said. 
In  the  Greek  philosophy,  the  term  ^vyi]^  soul,  com])rehends,  besides 
the  sensitive  and  rational  princijile  in  man,  the  ])rinci])le  of  organic 
life,  both  in  the  animal  and  vegetable  kingdoms;  and,  in  Christian 
theology,  it  is  likewise  used,  in  contrast  to  nvevfjia  or  spirit,  in  a 
vaguer  and  more  extensive  signification. 

Since  Descartes  limited  psychology  to  the  domain  of  conscious- 
ness, the  term  mind  has  been  rigidly  employed  for  the  self-knowing 
principle  alone.  Mind,  therefore,  is  to  be  understood  as  the  subject 
of  the  various  internal  j)ha'iiomena  of  M'hich  we  are  conscious,  or 
that  subject  of  which  consciousness  is  the  general  ])haMi()inenon. 
Consciousness  is,  in  fact,  to  the  mind  what  extension  is  to  matter 
t>r  body.  Though  both  are  ]th;t!nomena,  yet  both  are  essential 
(jualities;  for  we  can  neither  conceive  niii:d  without  consciousness, 

nor  body  without  extension.     ]\Iiiid  can  be  de- 

Alind  can  1)0  dclincil  i-         i  i  j       •       •  ^y     ,.    •  i       i- 

.   .  lined  onlv  a  iMStenon,  —  that  is,  only  trom  its 

only  a  posUnon.  _^         •'_        ' 

manifestations.  What  it  is  in  itself,  that  is, 
apart  fiom  its  manifestations,  —  we,  j)hilosuj)hicalIy,  know  nothing, 
and,  accordingly,  what  Ave  mean  by  mind  is  simply  tlnif  ir/ii.-U  per- 
ceives, thinks,  feels,  wills^  dcsins,  etc.  ^lind,  with  us,  is  thus 
nearly  coextensive  with  the  Rational  and  Animal  souls  of  Aris- 
totle; for  the  faculty  of  voluntary  motion,  which  is  a  function  of 

i  Enryrlnpnilia   BriUvinlrn,   art.   Mftiip/ii/sirs^  2  On  etynioloffv  of  mint/,  otc. — soo  Sclieid- 

pp.  615,646,  (7tli  ed.)    [Cf.  Dcscarteii,  Principia       Icr's  Psyehotogif,  p.  .325. 
pars  i.  §  63,  pars  ii.  ^  4.  —  V.d.] 


XlO  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  IX 

the  animal  soul  in  the  Peripatetic  doctrine,  ought  not,  as  is  gen- 
erally (lone,  to  be  excluded  from  the  phaenoraena  of  consciouness 
and  mind. 

The  definition  of  mind  from  its  qualities  is  given  by  Aristotle ; 
it  forms  the  second  definition  in  his  Treatise  on  the  Soitl^  and  after 
him,  it  is  the  one  generally  adopted  by  philosophers,  and,  among 
others,  by  Dr.  Reid.^  That  Reid,  therefore,  should  have  been 
j)raised  for  having  thus  defined  the  mind,  shows  only  the  ignorance 
of  his  encomiasts.     He  has  no  peculiar  merit  in  this  resj^ect  at  all. 

The  next  term  to  be  considered  is  eo?isclons  subject.  And  first, 
what  is  it  to  be  conscious?     Without  anticipat- 

Conscious-Subject.  .  ,         ,.  .  ,      . 

ing  the  discussion  relative  to  consciousness,  as 
the  fundamental  function  of  intelligence,  I  may,  at  present,  simply 
indicate  to  you  what  an  act  of  consciousness  denotes.  This  act  is 
of  the  most  elementary  character ;  it  is  the  condition  of  all  knowl- 
edge ;  I  cannot,  therefore,  define  it  to  you  ;  but,  as  you  are  all 
familiar  with  the  thing,  it  is  easy  to  enable  you  to  connect  the 
ruling  with  the  word.  I  know,  —  I  desire,  —  I  feel.  What  is  it 
that  is  common  to  all  these?  Knowincj  and  desiring  an^i  feeling 
are  not  the  same,  and  may  be  distinguished.  But  they  all  agree 
in  one  fundamental  condition.  Can  I  know,  without  knowing  that 
I  know?  Can  I  desire,  without  knoicing  that  I  desire?  Can  I 
feel,  without  knowing  that  I  feel?  This  is  impossible.  Now  this 
knowing  that  I  know  or  desire  or  feel,  —  this  common  condition  of 
self-knowledge,  is  pi'ecisely  what  is  denominated  Consciousness.^ 

So  much  at  present  for  the  adjective  of  conscious  —  now  for  the 
substantive,  subject^  —  conscious-suhject.  Though  consciousness  be 
the  condition  of  all  internal  phaenomena,  still  it  is  itself  only  a 
phaenomenon ;  and,  therefore,  supposes  a  subject  in  which  it  in- 
heres;—  that  is,  supposes  sometliing  that  is  conscious,  —  something 
that  manifests  itself  as  conscious.  And,  since  consciousness  com- 
prises within  its  sphere  the  whole  phaenomena  of  mind,  the  ex- 
pression conscious-suhject  is  a  brief,  but  comprehensive,  definition 
of  mind  itself. 

I  have  already  informed  you  of  the  general  meaning  of  the  word 
subject  in  its   philosophical    a])pJication,  —  viz.  the  unknown   basis 

1  De  Anima,  ii.  2.      'H    ^vxv   5e    tovto   w  Ta7s,    kol    tos    Suyafi.ets    airb    rovTcoy    4irt- 

^Hfjifi'   KM    ala^avofif^a    koI     Siacoou/xf&a  yoovfxei/.     In  lib.   ii.  De  Anima,  p.  76,  (Aid. 

irpwruis.     Cf.  Tliemistiiis.     El  Si  XPV  ^^yf'"  Fol.)  — Kd 

Tt   fKaffTOV  Tovruv,  oiov  rl  rh   voririKhv.  ^  2  Intellfctual  Powew,  Essay  i.  c.  2;    Works,  p. 

Ti  rh  airr^riTiKhv,  irpSrepov  eirinrKemfov,  ri  229.     "  By  tlie  mind  of  a  man,  we  understand 

rh   voflu,  Ka\  ri  rh  aladai'fff'iiat'  irpSrepai  that  in  liini  wliicli  tliinks,  remembers,  reasons. 

■yap  Kol  (Ta(pf<rTepat  irpbs  ^fias  rwv  SwafxiStv  wills."  —  Kd. 

siffi  al  fytpyfiai'  ■npo(in-vyx<'''Voix(v  yap  ait-  3  Compare  Discussions,  p.  -17.  —  Ed. 


Lkct.  IX.  METAPHYSICS.  Ill 

of  phsenomenal  or  manifested  existence.  It  is  thus,  in  its  applica- 
tion, common  equally  to  the  external  anil  to  the  internal  worlds. 
But  the  2)hilosophers  of  mind  have,  in  a  mannei-,  usurped  and 
appropriated  this  expression  to  themsehes.  Accordingly,  in  their 
hands,  the  phrases  conscious  or  thinking  subject,  and  sabject  simi)ly, 
mean  precisely  the  same  thing ;  and  custoni  has  })reyailed  so  far, 
that,  in  j)sychological  discussions,  the  subject  is  a  term  wuw  cur- 
rently employed,  throughout  Europe,  for  the  mi))d  or  ililtikijKj 
principle} 

The  question  here  occiu's,  Avhat  is  the  reason  of  this  employment? 
If  mind  and  subject  are  only  convertible  terms^ 

Use    of    the    term  i  i,-    i  .:i     '  -itt-i  i 

Subject  vindicated.  ^'^^^^  multiply   syuouyms  >      Why   exchange    a 

precise  and  proximate  expression  for  a  vague 
and  abstract  generality  ?  The  question  is  pertinent,  and  merits  a 
reply;  for  unless  it  can  be  shown  that  the  word  is  necessary,  its 
introduction  cannot  possibly  be  vindicated.  Now,  the  utility  of 
this  expression  is  founded  on  two  circumstances.  The  first,  that 
it  affords  an  adjective ;  the  second,  that  the  terms  subject  and  sub- 
jective have  opposing  relatives  in  the  terms  object  and  objective,  >'0 
that  the  two  pairs  of  words  together,  enable  us  to  designate  the 
primary  and  most  im])ortant  analysis  and  antithesis  of  philosophy, 
in  a  more  j)recise  and  emphatic  manner  than  can  be  done  by  any 
other  technical  expressions.     This  will  require  some  illustration. 

Subject,  Ave  have  seen,  is  a  term  for  that  in  which  the  pluenomeria 
revealed  to  our  observation,  inhere;  —  what  the 

,  ".^l""  ^. "  •'*'''"^       schoolmen  have  designated  the  materia  in  oua. 

and     Ohji'Ctive;    their  .    _      ,  ~  -» 

origin  and  meaning.  Limited    to    the    mental    pha}nomena,    subject 

therefore,  denotes  the  mind  itself;  and  sub- 
jective, that  which  belongs  to,  or  i)roceeds  from,  the  thinking  sul)- 
ject.  Object,  on  the  other  haiul,  is  a  term  lur  that  al)out  which 
the  knowing  subject  is  conversant,  what  the  schoolmen  have  styled 
*,he  ruatcriii  cirm  tpuon  ;  while  objective  moans  that  which  belongs 
to,  or  proceeds  from,  the  object  known,  ami  not  from  the  subject 
knowing;  and  th.us  denotes  what  is  real  in  opposition  to  what  is 
ideal,  —  what  exists  in  ii.it inc,  in  contrast  to  what  exists  merely  in 
the  thought  of  the  individual. 

Now,  the  great  jiroblem  of  i)hilosoi>hy  is  to  analyze  the  contents 
of  our   acts   of  knowledge,   or   cognitions,  —  to    distinguish    what        v 
elements  are  contributed  by  the  knowing  subject,  what  elements 
by  the  object  known.     There   must,  therefore,  be  terms  aile<juate 
to  designate   these   correlative   opposites,  and  to   discriminate   the 

1  See  the  Authors   note,  liiiiVs  UV/t.'s,   p.  80C.  —  Ed. 


112  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.   IX. 

share  which  each  has  in  tlie  total  act  of  cognition.  But,  if  we  re- 
ject the  terms  subject  and  sahjectit'e,  —  object  and  objective.,  there 
are  no  others  competent  to  the  purpose. 

At  this   stage  of  your   progress,  Gentlemen,  it   is    not  easy  to 

make  you  aware  of  the  paramount  necessity  of 

Errors  arising  from       ^^^^^^   ^  distmction,  and  of  sucli  terms,  —  or  to 

want  of  the  terms  Sub-  ^  f  ^  /■  i 

ject  and  Object.  show  you    how,  irom   tlic  Want  01    words  ex-. 

pressive  of  this  primary  antithesis,  tlie  mental 
philosophy  of  this  country  has  been  checked  in  its  development, 
and  involved  in  the  iitmost  perplexity  and  misconception.  It  is 
sufficient  to  remark  at  present,  that  to  this  defect  in  the  language- 
of  his  psychological  analysis,  is,  in  a  great  measure,  to  be  attributed 
the  confusion,  not  to  say  the  errors  of  Reid,  in  the  very  cardinal 
point  of  his  philosophy,  —  a  confusion  so  great  that  the  whole 
tendency  of  his  doctrine  was  misconceived  by  Brown,  who,  in 
adopting  a  modification  of  the  hypothesis  of  a  representative  per- 
ception, seems  not  even  to  have  suspected,  that  he,  and  Reid,  and 
modern  philosophers  in  general,  were  not  in  this  at  one.*  The 
terms  subjective  and  objective  denote  the  primary  distinction  in 
consciousness  of  self  and  ftot-self,  and  this  distinction  involves  the 
whole  science  of  mind ;  for  this  science  is  nothing  more  than  a 
determination  of  the  subjective  and  objective,  in  themselves  and 
v/in  their  mutual  relations.  The  distinction  is  of  paramount  im- 
portance, and  of  infinite  application,  not  only  in  Philosophy  jiroper, 
but  in  Grammar,  Rhetoric,  Criticism,  Ethics,  Politics,  Jurisprudence, 
Theology.  I  will  give  you  an  example,  —  a  philological  example. 
Suppose  a  lexicograi)her  had  to  distinguish  the  two  meanings  of 
the  word  certainty.  Certainty  expresses  either  the  firm  conviction 
which  we  have  of  the  truth  of  a  thing ;  or  the  character  of  the 
proof  on  which  its  reality  rests.  The  former  is  the  subjective  mean- 
ing; tlie  latter  the  objective.  By  what  other  terms  can  they  be 
distinguished  and  described  ? 

The  distinction  of  subject  and  object,  as  marking  out  the  funda- 
mental   and  most  thorough-going  antithesis  in 

History  of  the  terms  i  -i  i  ^i  • 

,  ,.      '     ,^.  nhilosoiihv,  we  owe,  among  many  other  impor- 

Subject  and  Object.  ^  .  . 

tant  benefits,  to  the  schoolmen,  and  from  the 
schoolmen  the  terms  passed,  both  in  their  substantive  and  adjective 
forms,  into  the  scientific  language  of  modern  philosophers.  De- 
prived of  these  terms,  the  Critical  Philosophy,  indeed  the  whole  phi- 
losophy of  Germany  and  France,  would  be  a  blank.  In  this  country, 
though  familiarly  employed  in  scientific  language,  even  subsequently 

1  See  on  this  question  the  Autlior".s  Ihsrus-      agnations  to   Ktul's  U'oz-is,  notes  Baud  C  — 
s/ens,  p.  45,  et  srf/.,  and  his  Supjilenuntary  Dis-       Ed. 


Lect.  IX.  METAPHYSICS.  113 

to  the  time  of  Locke,  the  adjective  forms  seem  at  length  to  have 
dropt  out  of  tlie  Englisli  tongue.  Tluit  th(!se  words  waxed  obso- 
lete, was,  perliaps,  caused  by  tlie  ambiguity  Avhicli  had  gradually 
crept  into  the  signification  of  the  substantives.  Object.^  besides  its 
proper  signification,  came  to  be  abusively  applied  to  denote  rnotivCy 
e)id,  Jiixd  ecn(s<\  (a  meaning,  by  the  way,  not  recognized  by  John- 
son.) This  innovation  was  probably  borrowed  from  the  French,  in 
whose  language  the  word  had  been  similarly  corruj)ted,  after  the 
commencement  of  the  last  century.  Subject  in  English,  as  siijet  in 
French,  had  not  been  rightly  distinguished  from  object,  takeii  in  its 
proper  meaning,  and  had  tlius  returned  to  the  origiiud  ambiguity  of 
the  correspoiuling  term  (uTroKet/Aevov)  in  Greek.  It  is  probable  that 
the  logical  aj>j)lication  of  the  word,  (subject  of  predication),  facili- 
tated, or  occasioned  this  confusion.  In  using  the  terms,  therefore, 
Ave  think  that  an  explanation,  but  no  apology,  is  required.  The  dis- 
tinction is  exi)ressed  by  no  other  terms  ;  and  if  these  did  not  already 
enjo}'^  a  prescrii)tive  right  as  denizens  of  the  language,  it  cannot  be 
denied,  that,  as  strictly  analogical,  they  are  well  entitled  to  sue  out 
their  naturalization.  We  shall  have  frequent  occasion  to  recur  to 
this  distinction,  — •  and  it  is  eminently  worthy  of  your  attention. 
The  last  parallel  expressions  are  the  terms  self  and  e<jo.  These 
we  shall  take  together,  as  they  are  absolutely 
^e  ,    Ko—  >  "s  ra-       convertible.     As  the  best  pre])arative  for  a  proi>- 

ted  from  I'lato.  .  ^  ^       '  '       ' 

er  understanding  of  these  terms,  I  shall  trans- 
late to  you  a  passage  from  the  l^'irst  Alciblades  of  Plato.  ^  The  in- 
terlocutors are    Socrates  and  Alcil)iades. 

"  Socr.  Hold,  now,  with  whom  do  you  at  present  converse  ?  Is 
it  not  with  me  ?  —  Alcih.     Yes. 

Socr.  And  I  also  w^ith  you  ?  —  Alcib.  .  Yes. 

Socr.     It  is  Socrates  then  who  speaks? —  Alcib.     Assuredly. 

Socr.     And  Alcibiades  who  listens?  —  Alcib.     Yes. 

Socr.  Is  it  not  with  language  that  Socrates  s}*e.iks?  —  Alcib. 
What  now?  of  course. 

Socr.  To  converse,  and  tu  use  language',  are  not  these  then  the 
same? —  Alcib.     The  very  same. 

Socr.  Hut  ho  who  uses  a  thing,  and  the  thing  used,  —  are  those 
not  different  ? —  Alcib.     What  do  you  mean  ? 

Socr.  A,  ciu'rier,  —  does  he  not  use  a  cutting  knife,  and  other  in- 
struments ?  —  .  Llcib.     Yes. 


1  P  129.  The  }H'iiuinene,«s,  however,  of  this  tranglatinn);  Schleiermacher's  Intro<turtion, 
Dialogue  is  (lucstioiinble.  See  Kittor,  //(»r.  translafi'tl  by  Dobsoii  j).  .328;  Brandlo,  Gr«jk. 
of  Anci€>U  PMlosnpky^  vol.  ii.  p.  I(j4,  (KiiRlish      iler  Or.  Horn.  Philofnpkit,  vol.  ii.  p.  180.  — E>. 

15 


114  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  IX. 

Socr,  And  the  man  who  uses  the  cutting  knife,  is  he  different 
from  the  instrument  he  uses  ?  —  Alcib.     Most  certainly. 

iSocr.  In  like  manner,  the  lyrist,  is  he  not  different  from  the  lyre 
he  plays  on  ?  —  Alcib.     Undoubtedly. 

Socr.  This,  then,  was  what  I  asked  you  just  now,  —  does  not  he 
who  uses  a  thing  seem  to  you  always  different  from  the  thing  used  ? 
■ —  Alcib.     Very  different. 

Socr.  But  the  currier,  does  he  cut  with  his  instruments  alone,  or 
also  with  his  hands?  —  Alcib.     Also  with  his  hands. 

Soo:     He  then  uses  his  hands  ?  —  Alcib.     Yes. 

Socr.     And  in  his  work  he  uses  also  his  eyes  ?  — Alcib.     Yes. 

Socr.  We  are  agreed,  then,  that  he  who  uses  a  thing,  and  the 
thing  used,  are  different  ?  —  Alcib.     We  are. 

Socr.  The  currier  and  lyrist  are,  therefore,  different  from  the 
hands  and  the  eyes,  with  which  they  work  ?  —  Alcib.     So  it  seems. 

Socr.  Now,  then,  does  not  a  man  use  his  whole  body?  —  Alcib. 
Unquestionably. 

Socr.  But  we  are  agreed  that  he  who  uses,  and  that  which  is 
used,  are  different? — Alcib.     Yes. 

Socr.  A  man  is,  therefore,  different  fi-om  his  body  ?  —  Alcib. 
So  I  think. 

Socr.     What  then  is  the  man  ?  —  Alcib.     I  cannot  say. 

Socr.  You  can  at  least  say  that  the  man  is  that  which  uses  the 
body  ?  —  Alcib.     True. 

Socr.  Now,  does  anything  use  the  body  but  the  mind  ?  —  Alrib. 
Nothing. 

Socr.  The  mind  is,  therefore,  the  man?  —  Alcib.  The  mind 
alone." 

To  the  same  effect,  Aristotle  asserts  that  the  mind  contains  the 
man,  not  the  man  the  mind.  ^  "  Thou  art  the  soul,"  says  Hierocles, 
"  but  the  body  is  thine."  ^  So  Cicero  —  "  Mens  cuj usque  is  est  quis- 
que,  non  ea  figura  qu?e  digito  demonstrari  potest ; "  '  and  Macrobius 
—  "  Ergo  qui  videtur,  non  ipse  verus  homo  est,  sed  verus  ille  est,  a 
quo  regitur  quod  videtur."  * 

No   one   has,  however,  more   beautifully  ex- 

Arbuthnot.  t     i  •  i       i  »    i       i  r 

j^resseu  this  trutli  than  Arbuthnot."' 

"  What  am  I,  Avhence  produced,  and  for  what  end? 
Whence  drew  I  being,  to  what  period  tend  ? 

1  That  the  mind  is  t/ie  man,  is  maintained         3  Somnium  Scipionis,  §  8.  —  Ed. 

by  Aristotle  in  several  phices.     Cf.   Kth.  Nic.         ^  Macrobius,   In  Somnium  Scipionis,  lib.  iL 

ix.  8;  X.  7;  but  these  do  not  contain  tlie  ex-      g   12.  —  V.u. 

act  words  of  the  text.  —  Ed  ,  „  ,,      ,^      „       i-v  j  1     ,     ^  ,.    .• 

„       .        „         ,  ^  Know    thyself      See   Dodsley's   CoWecJtow, 

2  In  Aurea   Pythaeoreorum   Carmina,  26:  2u  ,    .        ,on        i^ 

^       T"    I       '.     \*^      -  X         v-^  vol.1  p   180.- Ei>. 

yap  fl  T]  v/uxT)    TO  Of  o-oijuo  rroc.  —  Kd. 


Lect.   iX.  METAPHYSICS.  115 

Am  I  th'  abandon'd  orphan  of  blind  chance, 
Dropp'd  hy  wild  atoms  in  disordered  dance? 
Or,  from  an  endless  chain  of  causes  wrouj^ht, 
And  of  untliinkin;;:;  substance,  born  with  thought. 
Am  I  but  what  I  seem,  mere  flesh  and  blood, 
A  branching  channel  with  a  mazj'  flood  ? 
The  purple  stream  that  throuj^h  my  vessels  glides. 
Dull  and  unconscious  flows,  like  common  tides, 
The  pipes,  throiiLjh  whicli  the  circling  juices  stray, 
Are  not  that  thinking  I,  no  more  than  they : 
This  frame,  compacted  with  transcendent  skill, 
Of  moving  joints,  obedient  to  my  will; 
Nursed  from  the  fruitful  ^Icbc,  like  yonder  tree. 
Waxes  and  wastes,  —  I  call  it  mine,  not  me. 
New  matter  still  the  mould'ring  mass  sustains; 
The  mansion  chang'd,  the  tenant  still  remains; 
And,' from  the  fleeting  stream,  repair'd  by  food. 
Distinct,  as  is  the  swimmer  from  the  flood." 

But  let  us  come  to  a  closer  determination  of  the  point;  let  us  ap- 
peal to  our  experience.     "  I  turn  my  attention 
The  Self  or  Ego  in       ^^         being,  and  find  that  I  have  organs,  and 

lelation   to  bodilv  or-  ,         t    ,  i  i  -» r      i      t      •        i  i 

gaus,  and  thoughts.  that  I  have  thoughts.     My  body  is  the  comple- 

ment of  my  organs ;  am  I  then  my  body,  or  any 
part  of  my  body?  This  I  cannot  be.  Tlic  matter  of  my  body,  in 
all  its  points,  is  in  a  perpetual  flux,  in  a  perpetual  process  of  renewal. 
I,  —  /  do  not  pass  away,  I  am  not  renewed.  None  probably  of  the 
molecules  which  constituted  my  organs  some  years  ago,  form  any 
part  of  the  material  system  which  I  now  call  mine.  It  has  been 
made  up  anew;  l»ut  I  am  still  what  I  was  of  old.  These  organs 
may  be  mutilated  ;  one,  two,  or  any  number  of  them  may  be  re- 
moved ;  but  not  the  less  do  I  continue  to  be  Avhat  I  was,  one  .iiid 
entire.  It  is  even  not  impossible  to  conceive  me  existing,  depr'vcd 
of  every  organ,  —  I  therefore,  who  have  the.><e  organs,  or  this  boily, 
I  am  neither  an  organ  nor  a  body. 

"Neither  am  I  identical  with  my  thoughts,  for  they  are  m.iiiifold 
and  various.  I,  on  the  contrary,  ;im  one  :iiul  th*;  same.  Each  mo- 
ment they  change  and  succeed  c.icli  other  ;  this  change  and  succes- 
sion takes  j)lace  in  me,  but  I  neither  cliange  noi-  succeed  niyseif  in 
myself.  Each  monu'iit,  I  urn  aw  ;ire  or  :nii  conscious  of  the  exist- 
ence and  change  of  my  thouglits :  this  change  is  sometimes  ileter- 
mined  by  me,  sometimes  by  something  difterent  from  me;  but  I  al- 
wavs  can  distiiiLruish  mvself  from  them :  I  am  a  iiermanent  bein<r. 
an  enduring  subject,  of  whose  existence  these  thoughts  are  only  so 


116  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  IX, 

many  modes,  appearances,  or  phainomena  ; — I  who  possess  organs 
and  thoughts  am,  therefore,  neither  these  organs  nor  these  thoughts. 

"  I  can  conceive  myself  to  exist  apart  from  every  organ.  But  if 
I  try  to  conceive  myself  existent  without  a  thought, — without 
some  form  of  consciousness,  —  I  am  unable.  This  or  that  thought 
may  not  be  perhaps  necessary ;  but  of  some  thought  it  is  necessary 
that  I  should  be  conscious,  otherwise  I  can  no  longer  conceive  my- 
self to  be.  A  suspension  of  thought  is  tlius  a  suspension  of  my 
intellectual  existence ;  I  am,  therefore,  essentially  a  thinking,  —  a 
conscious  being;  and  my  true  character  is  that  of  an  intelligence,  — 
an  intelligence  served  by  organs."  ^ 

But  this  thought,  this  consciousness,  is  possible  only  in,  and 
through,  the  consciousness  of  Self  The  Self,  the  I,  is  recognized  in 
every  act  of  intelligence,  as  the  subject  to  which  that  act  belongs. 
It  is  I  that  perceive,  I  that  imagine,  I  that  remember,  I  that  attend, 
I  that  compare,  I  that  feel,  I  that  desire,  I  that  will,  I  that  am  con- 
scious. The  I,  indeed,  is  only  manifested  in  one  or  other  of  these 
special  modes ;  but  it  is  manifested  in  them  all ;  they  are  all  only 
the  phasnomena  of  the  I,  and,  therefore,  the  science  conversant 
about  the  phjenomena  of  mind  is,  most  simply  and  unambiguously, 
said  to  be  conversant  about  the  pha^nomena  of  the  7"  or  Ego. 

This  expression,  as  that  wliich,  in  many  relations,  best  marks  and 
discriminates  the  conscious  mind,  has  now  become  familiar  in  every 
country,  with  the  exception  of  our  own.  Why  it  has  not  been  nat- 
uralized with  us  is  not  unapparent.  The  French  have  two  words 
for  the  Ego  or  I  —  Je  and  Mol.  The  former  of  these  is  less  appro- 
priate as  an  abstract  term,  being  in  sound  ambiguous ;  but  le  moi 
admirably  expresses  what  the  Germans  denote,  but  less  felicitously, 
by  their  Das  Ich.  In  English,  the  I  could  not  be  tolerated ;  be- 
cause, in  sound,  it  would  not  be  distinguished  from  the  word  signi- 
ficant of  the  organ  of  sight.  We  must,  therefore,  either  renounce 
the  term,  or  resort  to  the  Latin  Ego  ;  and  this  is  perhaps  no  disad- 
vantage, for,  as  the  word  is  only  employed  in  a  strictly  philosophical 
relation,  it  is  better  that  this  should  be  distinctly  marked,  by  its 
being  used  in  that  relation  alone.  The  term  tielf  is  more  allow- 
able ;  yet  still  the  expressions  Ego  and  N'on-Ego  are  felt  to  be  less 
awkward  than  those  of  Self  and  JVbt-Self. 

So  much  in  explanation  of  the  terms  involved  in  the  definition 
which  I  gave  you  of  Psychology. 

1  Gatien-Arnoult,  [Doct.  Phil.,  p.  U-36.  — £0.] 


LECTURE    X. 


EXPLICATIOX     OF     TERMS. 

I  NOW  proceed,  as  I  proposed,  to  the  consideration  of  a  few 
other  words  of  frequent  occurrence  in  ])hilos()])hy,  and  which  it 
is  expedient  to  cxphiin  at  once,  before  entering  upon  discussions 
in  wliich  they  will  continually  recur.  I  take  them  up  without 
order,  except  in  so  fir  as  they  may  be  grouped  together  by  their 
meaning;  and  the  first  I  shall  consider,  are  the  terms  hypothesis 
and  theory. 

When  a  phjenomenon  is  presented  to  us  wdiich  can  be  exjjUiined 
bv  no   cause  within  the   sphere   of  our  ex])eri- 

Hypothesis.  •  e     ^     ^^        ^-   a     ^  ^  \     i      • 

ence,  we  loel  dissatisned  and  uneasy.  A  desn-e 
arises  to  cscaj)e  from  tliis  unploasing  state ;  and  the  consequence 
of  this  desire  is  an  effort  of  the  mind  to  recall  the  outstandinor 
pluenomenon  to  unity,  by  assigning  it,  ad  interim.,  to  some  cause 
or  class,  to  wliich  we  imagine  that  it  may  possibly  belong,  until  we 
shall  be  able  to  refer  it,  ]»ermanently,  to  that  cause,  or  class,  to 
which  we  shall  liave  proved  it  actually  to  appertain.  The  judg- 
ment by  which  the  phaenomenon  is  thus  provisorily  referred,  is 
called  an  hypothesh^  —  a  supposition. 

Hypotheses  have  thus  no  other  end  than  to  satisfy  the  desire  of 
the  mind  to  reiluce  the  objects  of  its  knowledge  to  unity  and  sys- 
tem ;  and  they  do  this  in  recalling  them,  ad  interh/i,  to  sonu'  ))riu- 
ciple,  through  which  the  mind  is  t-nabled  to  comprehend  tlicm. 
From  this  view  of  their  nature  it  is  manifest  how  far  they  are 
])ennissible,  and  how  fill-  they  are  even  useful  and  ex]>edient,  — 
throwing  altogether  out  of  account  the  possibility  that  what  is  at 
first  assumed  as  hypothetical,  may  subsequently  be  proved  true. 

An  hypothesis  is  allowable  only  under  certain  conditions.  Of 
these    the   first    is,  —  tliat    the    phainomenon   to 

TKo  conditions  of       ,^g  explained,  sliould  b(>  ascertained  actuallv  to 

legitimate   livpotliesis.  .  i  i      . 

The  first.     '  cxist.     It  would,  for  exam}»le,  be  absurd  to  pro- 

pose an  hypothesis  to  account  for  the  ]iossil)ility 
of  apparitions,  until  it  be  jiroved  that  ghosts  do  actually  appear. 
This  j)rccept,  to  establish  your  fact  before  you  attempt  to  conject' 


118  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  X 

nre  its  cause,  may,  perhaps,  seem  to  yoix  too  elementary  to  be 
worth  the  statement.  But  a  longer  experience  will  convince  you 
of  the  contrary.  That  the  enunciation  of  the  rule  is  not  only  not 
superfluous,  but  even  highly  requisite  as  an  admonition,  is  shown 
by  great  and  numerous  examples  of  its  violation  in  the  history  of 
science ;  and,  as  Cullen  has  truly  observed,  there  are  more  false 
facts  current  in  the  world  than  false  hypotheses  to  explain  them. 
There  is,  in  truth,  nothing  which  men  seem  to  admit  so  lightly  as 
an  asserted  fact.  Of  this  I  might  adduce  to  you  a  host  of  mem- 
orable examples.  1  shall  content  myself  with  one  small  but  sig- 
nificant illustration. 

Charles  II.,  soon  after  the  incorporation  of  the  Koyal  Society, 
which  was  established  under  his  patronage,  sent  to  request  of  that 
learned  body  an  explanation  of  the  following  phimnomenon.  When 
a  live  fish  is  thrown  into  a  basin  of  water,  the  basin,  water,  and  fish 
do  not  weigh  more  than  the  basin  and  water  before  the  fish  is 
thrown  in ;  whereas,  Avhen  a  dead  fish  is  employed,  the  weight 
of  the  whole  is  exactly  equal  to  the  added  Aveights  of  the  basin, 
the  Avater,  and  the  fish.  Much  learned  discussion  ensued  regarding 
this  curious  fact,  and  several  elaborate  papers,  propounding  various 
hypotheses  in  explanation,  were  read  on  the  occasion.  At  length 
a  member,  who  was  better  versed  in  Anstotle  than  his  associates, 
recollected  that  the  philosopher  had  laid  it  down,  as  a  general  rule 
of  philosophizing,  to  consider  the  an  sit  of  a  fact,  before  j^roceeding 
to  investigate  the  cur  sit/  and  he  ventured  to  insinuate  to  his  col- 
leagues, that,  though  the  authority  of  the  Stagirite  was  Avith  them, 

—  the  disciples  of  Bacon,  —  of  small  account,  it  might  possibly  not 
be  altogether  inexpedient  to  follow  his  advice  on  the  present  occa- 
sion ;  seeing  that  it  did  nut,  in  fact,  seem  at  variance  with  common 
sense,  and  that  none  of  the  hypotheses  proposed  were  admitted 
to  be  altogether  satisfactory.  After  much  angry  discussion,  some 
members  asserting  the  fact  to  be  in  itself  notorious,  and  others 
declaring  that  to  doubt  of  its  reality  was  an  insult  to  his  majesty, 
and  tantamount  to  a  constructive  act  of  treason,  the  experiment 
Avas  made,  —  Avhen  lo  !  to  the  confusion  of  the  wise  men  of  Gotham, 

—  the  name  by  Avhich  the  Society  Avas  then  popidarly  known,  —  it 
Avas  found  that  the  weight  Avas  identical,  Avhether  a  dead  or  a  living 
fish  Avei'e  used. 

This  is  only  a  j>ast  and  ]ietty  illustration.  It  would  be  easy  to 
adduce  extensive  hy)>otheses,  very  generally  accredited,  even  at 
the  present  hour,  Avhich  are,  however,  nothing  l>etter  than  assump- 
tions founded  on,  or  ex])lanatory  of,  ijhaenomena  Avhich  do  not 
really  exist  in  nature. 


Lect.  X.  M  K  T  A  F  H  Y  S  I  C  S  .  119 

The  second  condition  of  a  pormissiblo  hypothesis  is,  —  that  the 
jtluenoincnon    cannot    be    explained    otherwise 

The  second.  i       ■  t  ^  t     i-  i 

than  l)y  an  liypotliesis.  It  wouhl,  tor  example, 
Jia\c  been  absunl,  even  before  the  discoveries  of  Franklin,  to 
account  for  the  pha^nonienon  of  lightning  by  the  liypotliesis  of 
supernatural  agency.  These  two  conditions,  of  the  reality  of  the 
phaenonienon,  and  the  necessity  of  an  hypothesis  lor  its  (.'xplana 
tion,  being  iultillcd,  an  hypothesis  is  allowable.^ 

But  the  necessity  of  some  hypothesis  being  conceded,  how  are 

we  to  discriminate  between  a  good  and  a  bad. 

Criteria  of  tiK.  ex-       _  .^   pi-.^i,.,!,!^.   .^^^^\   .,„   improbable  hypothesis? 

Cellence  of  :m  IivikHIi-  .  r-  i  i         • 

^.  llie   comparative    excellence    ot    an    livpotliesis 

requires,  in  the  first  place,  that  it  involve  noth- 
ing contradictory,  either  internally  or  externally,  —  that  is,  either 
betAveeii  ihe  ))arts  of  wliieh  it  is  composed,  or  between  these  and 
any  established  truths.  Thus,  the  Ptolemaic  liy])othesis  of  the 
heavenly  revolutions  became  worthless,  from  the  moment  that  it 
"was  contradicte<l  by  the  ascertained  pha^nomena  of  the  planets 
Venus  an<l  Mercury.  Thus  the  Wernerian  liv))othesis  in  ijeoloo-y 
is  improbable,  inasmuch  as  it  is  obliged  to  maintain  that  water  was 
originally  able  to  hold  in  solution  substances  which  it  is  now  inca- 
j>able  of  dissolving.  The  Huttonian  hypothesis,  on  the  contrary, 
is  so  far  preferable,  that  it  a.ssumes  no  eftect  to  have  been  jtioduced 
by  any  agent,  which  that  agent  is  not  kudwn  to  be  caj>able  of  jiro- 
ducing.  In  the  second  ]»lace,  an  hypothesis  is  probable  in  ])r()por- 
tion  as  the  plia'iiomenon  in  question  can  be  by  it  more  completely 
explained.  Thus,  the  Copernican  hypothesis  is  more  jirobable 
than  the  Tychonic  and  semi-Tychonic,  inasmuch  as  it  enables  us 
to  explain  a  greater  number  of  pluenomena.  In  the  third  place, 
an  hypothesis  is  prol>able,  in  ]>ro])ortioii  as  it  is  independent  of  all 
sid>sidiaiy  hypotheses.  In  this  respect,  again,  the  Copernican  liy- 
potliesis is  moie  ))robable  than  the  Tychonic.  For,  though  both 
pave  all  the  phauiomena,  the  Copernican  does  this  by  one  j)rincipal 
;issumj)tioii  ;  whereas  the  Tychonic  is  obliged  to  call  in  the  aid  of 
ficveral  subordinate  sujipositions,  to  render  the  ]»rincipal  assumption 
iivailable.     So  much   for  hi/pot/n sin. 

I  have  dwelt  longei'  on  hypothesis  than  perha))s  was  necessary; 
ior  you  must  recollect  tli.it  tliese  ti-rms  ai-e,  at  present,  considered 
only  in  order  to  enable  you  to  uiulerstand  their  signification  when 
casually  employed.  We  shall  ]irol)ably,  in  a  subsequent  j)art  of 
ihe   Course,  have  occasion    to    treat   of  tlu-m    expressly,   and   Avith 

1  [On   the  conditions  of  legitimate  liyixitli-       irn  E/rrtivn,   Diss.  I'ncnm.  art    3.  toin.   i    pi. 
«8is  comiiar*'  .John  Cliristophcr  Sturm.  Pliy^-       28.  | 


120  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  X 

the  requisite  details.  I  sliall,  tlierefore,  be  move  concise  in  treating 
of  tlie  cognate  expression,  —  theory.  Tliis  wonl  is  employed  by 
English  writers,  in  a  very  loose  and  improper  sense.  It  is  with 
them  usually  convertible  with  hyj)othcsis,  and  hypothesis  is  eonx- 
nionly  used  as  another  term  for  conjecture.  Dr.  Reid,  indeed,, 
expressly  does  this;  he  identifies  the  two  words,  and  ex])lains  them 
as  philosophical  conjectures,  as  you  may  see  in  his  P'irst  Essay  on 
the  Intellectual  Poioers,  (Chapter  III.)'  This  is,  however,  wrong; 
wrong,  in  relation  to  the  original  em])loyraent  of  the  terms  by  the 
ancient  ])hilosophers;  and  wrong,  in  relation  to  their  employment 
by  the  philosophers  of  the  modei'u  nations. 

The  tenns  theory  and  theoretical  are  ])roperly  used  in  ojjposition 
to   the   terms  practice  and  practical;   in    this 

Theory;  Practice.  i      •       i 

sense  they  were  exclusively  employed  by  the 
ancients;  and  in  this  sense  they  are  almost  exclusively  employed 
by  the  continental  philosophers.  Practice  is  the  exercise  of  an 
art,  or  the  application  of  a  science,  in  life,  which  application  is 
itself  an  art,  for  it  is  not  every  one  who  is  able  to  ap])ly  all  he 
knows;  there  being  required,  over  and  above  knowledge,  a  certain 
dexterity  and  skill.  Theory,  on  the  eonti'ary,  is  mere  knowledge 
or  science.  There  is  a  distinction,  but  no  opposition,  between 
theory  and  practice;  each  to  a  certain  extent  supposes  the  otliei. 
On  the  one  hand,  theory  is  dependent  on  practice;  ])racti('e  must 
have  preceded  theory;  for  theory  being  only  a  generalization  of 
the  principles  on  which  practice  proceeds,  these  must  originally 
have  been  taken  out  of,  or  abstracted  from,  practice.  On  the  other 
hand,  this  is  true  only  to  a  certain  extent ;  for  there  is  no  jjraetice 
without  a  theory.  The  man  of  practice  must  have  always  known 
something,  however  little,  of  what  he  did,  of  what  he  intended 
to  do,  and  of  the  means  by  which  his  intention  was  to  be  carried 
into  effect.  He  was,  therefore,  not  wholly  ignorant  of  the  princi- 
j)les  of  his  procedure;  he  was  a  limited,  he  was,  in  some  degree,, 
an  unconscious,  theorist.  As  he  ]n-oceeded,  however,  in  his  prac- 
tice, and  refiected  on  his  performance,  his  theory  acquired  greater 
clearness  and  extension,  so  that  he  became  at  last  distinctly  con- 
scious of  what  he  did,  and  could  give,  to  himself  and  others,  an 
account  of  his  proce<lure. 

"Per  viirios  usiis  arteni  e.xperientia  fecit, 
Exempio  moiistrantc  viain."  - 

In  this  view,  theory  is,  therefore,  simply  a  knowledge  of  th© 
principles  by  which  practice  accomplishes  its  end. 

1  Works,  p.  235;  see  also  p.  97.  —  Kn.  'j  [Maniliu.t,  i.  62.' 


Lect.  X.  METAPHYSICS.  121 

The  opposition  of  Theoretical  and  Practical  philosophy,  is  some- 
what different ;  for  these  do  not  stand  simply 
Theoretical  and       j.^i^^t^d  to  each    other  as  theory  and   practice. 

Practical   Pliilosopliy.  ,  .  ,  *  i 

Practical  philosophy  involves  likewise  a  theory, 
—a  theory,  however,  subordinated  to  the  practical  a})plication  of 
its  principles ;  while  theoretical  philoso})hy  has  nothing  to  do  with 
practice,  but  terminates  in  mere  s]ieculative  or  contemplative 
knowledge.' 

The  next  group  of  associated  Avords  to  whieh  1  would  call  your 
attention  is  composed  of  the  terms,  — power^  faculty,  capacity,  dis- 
position, habit,  act,  operation,  energy,  function,  etc. 

Of  these   the   first   is  porcer,  and   the   explanation   of  this,   in   a 
manner,  involves  that  of  all  the  others. 
,^    ,  1  liave,  in  the  nrst  ])lace,  to  correct  an  eiTor 

jcism  of  Locke.  \       _  '■ 

of  Dr.  Reid,  in  relation  to  this  term,  in  his  crit- 
icism of  Locke\s  statement  of  its  import.  —  You  will  observe  that 
I  do  not,  at  present,  enter  on  the  question.  How  do  we  acquire 
the  notion  of  power?  and  I  defend  the  following  passage  of  Locke, 
only  in  regard  to  the  meaning  and  comprehension  of  tlie  term. 
"The  mind,"  says  Locke,  "being  every  Any  informed,  by  the  senses,, 
of  the  alteration  (jf  those  simple  ideas  it  observes  in  things  without,, 
and  taking  notice  Ikjw  one  comes  to  an  end,  and  ceases  to  be,  and 
another  bey-ins  to  e.vist  which  was  not  before:  reliectiiiij:  also  on 
what  passes  within  itself,  and  observing  a  constant  cliange  of  its 
ideas,  sometimes  by  the  impression  of  outward  objects  on  the 
senses,  and  sometimes  by  the  determination  of  its  own  choice ;  and 
concluding  from  what  it  has  so  constantly  observe<l  to  have  been, 
that  the  like  clianges  will,  for  the  future,  be  made  in  the  same 
things,  by  like  agents,  and  by  the  like  ways;  considers,  in  one 
tiling,  the  j)ossibility  of  having  any  of  its  simple  ideas  changed. 
Mild,  in  another,  tlie  possilnlity  of  making  that  change;  and  so 
comes  by  that  idea  which  we  call  power.  Thus  we  say,  fire  has 
a  power  to  melt  gold,  —  that  is,  to  destroy  the  consistency  of  its 
insensible  ])arts  and  consequently  its  hardness,  and  make  it  flui<l, 
and  gold  has  a  power  to  bi'  melted:  tliat  the  sun  has  a  ])ower  to 
blanch  wax,  and  w.iv  a  jyower  to  be  blanche<l  by  the  sun,  wliereby 
the  yellowness  is  destroyed,  mihI  whiteness  made  to  exist  in  its 
room.  In  whicli.  and  the  Hkc  cases,  tin-  jxiwer,  we  consider,  is 
in  reference  to  iht'  change  of  perceivable  ideas;  for  Ave  cannot 
observe  any  alteration  to  be  mjule  in.  or  operation  upon,  anything,^ 
but. by  the   observable  change  of  its  sensible   ideas;  nor  conceive 

1  Ste  ant.,  ji.  .so  —  r.D. 

IG 


122  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  X. 

:iny  alteration  to  be  made,  but  by  conceiving  a  change  of  some  of 
its  ideas.  Power,  thus  considered,  is  twofold  —  viz.  as  able  to 
make,  or  able  to  receive,  any  cliange :  the  one  may  be  called  active, 
and  the  other  passive  power."  ^ 

I  have  here   only  to  call  your  attention  to  the  distinction  of 
power  into  two  kinds,  active  and  j^^^ssive  —  the 

Active  and  Passive         n  ■  •  j  i  ^     ^     j.'  ^\     i. 

former  meaning,  id  quod  potest  facere,  ttiat 
which  can  effect  or  can  do,  —  the  latter  id  qiiod 
2)0test  fieri  that  which  can  be  effected  or  can  be  done.  In  both  cases 
the  general  notion  of  power  is  expressed  by  the  verb  i^otest  or  can. 
Now,  on  this.  Dr.  Reid  makes  the  following  strictures.'  "  On  this 
account  l)y  Locke,"  he  says,  "of  the  origin  of  our  idea  of  power,  I 
would  beg  leave  to  make  two  remarks,  with  the  respect  that  is 
most  justly  due  to  so  great  a  pliilosopher  and  so  good  a  man." 
We  are  at  present  concerned  only  with  the  first  of  these  remarks 
by  Dr.  Reid,  which  is  as  follows,  —  "  Whei-eas  Locke  distinguishes 
power  into  active  and  passive,  I  conceive  passive  power  is  no  ])ower 
at  all.  He  means  by  it,  the  possibility  of  being  changed.  To  call 
this  poicer,  seems  to  be  a  misapplication  of  the  word.  I  do  not 
remember  to  haAC  met  with  the  phrase  passive  power  in  any  other 
good  author.  Mr.  Locke  seems  to  have  been  unlucky  in  inventing 
it ;  and  it  deserves  not  to  be  retained  in  our  language.  Perliaps 
he  was  luiwarily  led  into  it,  as  an  opjiosite  to  active  po^cer.  But 
I  conceive  we  call  certain  powers  active,  to  distinguish  them  from 
other  powers  that  are  called  specidafive.  As  all  mankind  distin- 
guish action  from  speculation,  it  is  Aery  proper  to  distinguish  the 
powers  by  Avhich  those  different  operations  are  performed,  into 
active  and  speculative.  IVIr.  Locke,  indeed,  acknowledges  that 
active  power  is  more  properly  called  poAver:  but  I  see  no  propriety 
at  all  in  passive  poAA'er;  it  is  a  poAvei'less  power,  and  a  contradic- 
tion in  terms." 

These  observations  of  Dr.  Reid  are,  I  am  sorr\^  to  sav,  erroneous 
from  first  to  last.  The  latter  part,  in  Avhich  he  attempts  to  find 
a  reason  for  Locke  being  unAvarily  betrayed  into  making  this  dis- 
tinction, is,  supposing  the  distinction  untenable,  and  Locke  its 
author,  wholly  inadequate  to  account  for  his  hallucination :  for, 
surely,  the  powers  by  Avhich  we  speculate  are,  in  their  operations, 
not  more  passive  than  those  that  have  sometimes  been  styled 
active,  but  Avhich  are  pi-operly  denominated  pn-acticaJ.  But  in  the 
censure  itself  on  Locke,  Reid  is  altogether  mistaken.  In  the  first 
place,  so  far  Avas  Locke  from  being  imlucky  in  iuAcnting  the  dis- 

1  £jsay,  Book  ii.  ch.  21.  s  1.  —  Ku.       ■!  Arlxvr.   Powrrs,  Essay  i.  ch.   3;     IVotIlS,   p.  HO.  —  Fp 


Lect.  X.  METAPHYSICS.  123 

tinction,  it  was  invented  some  two  thousand  years  before.  In  the 
second  place,  to  call  the  jjossibilitt/  of  being  changed  a  poxcer^  is 
no  misajiplication  of  the  Avord.  In  the  third  place,  so  far  is  the 
\Aw'A,^Q  passive  powei'  from  not  being  employed  by  any  good  authoi-, 
—  there  is  hardly  a  metaphysician  previous  to  Locke,  by  whom  it 
was  not  familiarly  used.  In  fact,  this  was  one  of  the  most  cele- 
brated distinctions  in  philosophy.  It  was  first  formally  enounced 
by  Aristotle,^  and  from  him  was  universally  adoj>ted.  Active  and 
passive  poAver  are  in  Greek  styled  8vva/xi?  TroLTjriKrj,  and  StW/Ai?  naSi]- 
TiKT)],  in  J^aiin,  2>otenHa  activa,  and  j^otentia passlva? 

Powe)\  thei'efore,  is  a  word  which  we  may  use, both  in  an  active, 
and  in  a  passive,  signification,  and,  in  psychology,  we  may  apply  it 
both  to  the  active  faculties,  and  to  the  passive  capacities,  of  mind. 

l^liis  leads  to  the  meaning  of  the  terms  faculties^  and  capadtles. 
'Fariiltii  (  tac>fl((is)  is  derived  from  the  obsolete 

Faculty.  t       •  .         ,       ,  •  /•  c      ■      -,■ 

Latiii  /'fct/f,  the  more  ancient  lorm  oi  fartlis, 
fi-om  which  again  facilitas  is  formed.  It  is  properly  limited  to 
active  power,  and,  therefore,  is  abusively  applied  to  the  mere  pas- 
sive affections  of  mind. 

Vapacitg  {capacitas)  on  the  other  hand,  is  more  properly  limited 

to  these.     Its    primary    signification,    which    is 

(,'apacity.  .  i  .  o  ^ 

literally  room  for,  as  well  as  its  emi)loyment, 
favors  this  ;  although  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  there  are  examples 
of  its  usage  in  an  active  sense.  Leibnitz,  as  fiir  as  I  know,  was  the 
first  who  limited  its  psychological  application  to  the  passivities  of 
miixl.  In' his  famous  N^otweaux  Essais  siir  t  Kn  ten  dement  ILi- 
inalii,  a  work  written  in  refutation  of  Locke's  Essag  on  the  same 
suV)ject,  he  observes:  "  We  may  say  that  power  (puissance),  in  ge- 
neral, is  the  possibility  of  change.  Now  the  change,  or  the  act  of 
this  ]iossibility,  being  action  in  one  subject  and  passion  in  another, 
tluMT  will  be  two  jjowers  [deux  puissances,)  the  one  passirr,  the 
other  actirr.  The  active  may  be  cnUcd  fant/fg,  and  perhai)s  the 
passive  might  be  called  rajxiritg,  or  receptivity.  It  is  true  that  the 
;icti\ f  i)o\ver  is  sometimes  taken  in  ;i  higher  sense,  Avhen,  over  and 
above  the  simjde  tiuulty,  there  is  also  a  tendency,  a  jusi/s  \  and 
it  is  thus  that  I   Ii;i\<'  used  it   in  mv  ilvnamical  considerations.     We 


i  Sve  Metap>i.  iv.  (v.)  12;   viii    (ix.)  1.  —  Kd.  those   for  ))iissivc    power   by  terniiniitiDiis  in 

•-•This  distinction  is,  indee.l,  established  in  "^"^^    '^'^^"^  ^oivtikov,  that  uliich  can  make; 

the  Greek;  lan;,'uape  itself.    That  toiiKne  has.  toitjtcJv,  that  which  can  he  made;  KiinrriK6v. 

I'.nionf?  its  otlier  marvellous  i>erfections.  two  •'""^  which  can   move;  KiyrirU,  that   which 

si'ts  of  potential  adjectives,  tlie  one  for  nr/iiv,  can  Ik'  moved;  and  so  iriJOKTixdi  and  irpoK- 

tlie  other  ioT  jumsivf  power.     Those  for  active  T^f,  ala^riKii  and  oua^rSi,  vorfTiKos  and 

power  are  denoted  by  terminations  in  tiko'j,  i'otjtoi,  o(«o5o/iT)rtN'($r  and  oikoSo^tjtJj,  etc. 


124  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  X 

might  give  to  it  in  this  meaning  the  special  name  of  forced  '  '  may 
notice  that  Roid  seems  to  have  attributed  no  otlier  meaning  to  tlte 
term  power  than  that  of  force. 

Power,  tiien,  is  active  and  jjassive  ;  foculty  is  active  power,  — 
cajjacity  is  passive  power. 

The  two  terms  next  in  order,  are  dispositio^i,  in  Greek,  Sia^co-is; 
and  habit,  in  Greek,  €^is.     I  take  these  t(  gether 

Disposition,  Habit.  .      •,  i  t.      i 

as  they  are  snnilar,  yet  not  the  same.  i>oth  are 
tendencies  to  action  ;  hut  they  differ  in  this,  that  disposition  ])roperly 
denotes  a  natural  tendency,  habit  an  acquired  tendency.  Aristotle 
distinguishes  them  by  anotlicr  difference.  "  Habit  (e^t?)  is  discrim- 
inated from  disposition  (Sta^ccns)  in  this,  that  the  latter  is  easily 
movable,  the  fomier  of  longer  duration,  and  more  difficult  to  be 
moved."  -  I  may  notice  that  habit  is  formed  by  the  frequent  repeti- 
tion of  the  same  action  oi-  passion,  and  that  this  repetition  is  called 
consuetude,  or  custom.  The  latter  terms,  which  properly  signify  the 
cause,  are  not  nnfrequently  abusively  employed  for  habit,  their 
effect. 

I  may  likewise  observe  that  the  terms  jioirrr,  facidty,  capacityy 
are  more  appropriately  applied  to  natural,  than  to  acquired,  capa- 
bilities, and  are  thus  inapplicable  to  mere  habits.  I  say  mere  habits, 
for  where  habit  is  superinduced  upon  a  natural  capability,  both 
terms  may  be  used.  Thus  we  can  say  both  the  faculty  of  abstrac- 
tion, and  the  habit  of  abstraction,  —  the  capacity  of  suffering,  and 
the  habit  of  suffering;  but  still  the  meanings  are  not  identical. 
The  last  series  of  cognate  terms  are  act,  operation,  energy.     They 

are  all  mutually  convertible,  as  all  denoting  the 
Act,  Operation,  En-       pi-ggent  exertiou  or  exercise  of  a  power,  a  fiic- 

ulty,  or  a  habit.  I  must  here  explain  to  you 
the  famous  distinction  of  actual  and  potential  existence  ;  for,  by  this 

distinction,   act,    operation,  energy,  are  contra- 
rotential  and  AC-       ^Hseriminatcd  from  ])ower,  flicultv,  capacitv,  dis- 

ual  Existence.  .    .  11,.  n-,,  •        ,.      .   *     .  ,  t 

position,  and  habit,  iliis  (hstmction,  when  di- 
vested of  certain  subordinate  subtleties  of  no  great  consequence,  is 
manifest  and  simple.  Potential  existence  means  merely  that  the 
thing  may  be  at  some  time ;  actual  existence,  that  it  now  is}  Thus, 
the  mathematician,  when  asleep  or  playing  at  cards,  does  not  exer- 
cise his  skill ;  his  geometrical  knoNvledge  is  all  latent,  but  he  is  still 
a  mathematician,  —  ])()tentially. 


1  Nouveaiix  EnsnU,  liv.  ii.  cli.  21.  §  1.  —  Ed.        learned   note  of  Trendelenburg  on  Arist.  de 

2  Categ.  eh.  8.  —  Ed.  Anima,  ii.  1.  —  Ed. 

3  This  distinction  is  well  illustrated  in  the 


Leot.  X.  METAPHYSICS.  125 

'Ut  quiimvis  tacit  Hermoj^cnes,  cantor  tainen  atqiic 
Optiiims  est  modulator; — ut  Alfenus  vafer,  oinni 
Abjccto  instrumento  artis,  clausaquc  tabema, 
Sutor  crat."  ' 

Herrnogenes,  says  Horace,  was  a  singer,  even  when  silent ;  how  ? 
—  a  singer,  not  in  acfn  but  in  posse.  So  Alfenus  was  a  cobbler, 
even  when  not  at  Avork ;  that  is,  he  was  a  QohhXcY  potential ;  where- 
as, when  bijsy  in  liis  booth,  he  was  a  cobbler  actind. 

In  like  manner,  my  sense  of  sight  potentially  exists,  though  niy 
eyelids  are  closed  ;  but  when  I  open  them,  it  exists  actually.  Now, 
power^  faculty,  capacity,  disposition,  habit,  are  all  diiferent  expres- 
sions for  potential  or  possible  existence ;  act,  operation,  energy,  for 
actual  or  present  existence.  Thus  the  power  of  imagination  ex- 
presses the  unexerted  capability  of  imagining ;  the  act  of  imagina- 
tion denotes  that  power  elicited  into  immediate,  —  into  present  ex- 
istence. The  different  synonyms  for  potential  existence,  are  exist- 
ence Iv  8vvdfji€i,  in  potentia,  in  jyosse,  in  porrer  /  for  actual  existence, 
existence  Iv  ivcpyeia,  or  iv  ivriXix^Lo.,  in  actu,  in  esse,  in,  act,  in  oj)era- 
tioii,  in  energy.  The  term  energy  is  precisely  the  Greek  term  for  act 
of  operation;  but  it  has  vulgarly  obtained  the  meaning  of  forcible 
activity. - 

The  word  fanctio,  in  Latin,  simply  expresses  performance  or 
ojieration  ;  functio  niuneris  is  the  exertion  of  an 

Function.  '  .  i  •     i        i>  •   ^ 

energy  ot  some  determmate  kind.  Jiut  with  us 
the  word  function  has  come  to  be  employed  in  the  sense  of  munKs 
alone,  and  means  not  the  exercise,  but  the  specific  character,  of  a 
] tower.  Thus  the  function  of  a  clergyman  docs  not  mean  with  us 
the  performance  of  his  duties,  but  the  ])eculiarity  of  those  duties 
tliemselves.  The  function  of  nutrition  does  not  mean  the  opera- 
tion of  that  animal  ])Ower,  but  its  discriminate  character. 

So  much  by  way  of  preliminary  explanation  of  the  ])sychologica] 
terms  in  most  general  and  frequent  use.  Others,  likewise,  I  shall, 
Ml  the  secpiel,  have  occasion  to  elucidate;  but  these  m.iy,  I  think, 
more  appropriately  be  dealt  with  as  they  happen  to  occur. 

1  Horace,  .SVir  i.  3,  129.  —  Ei>.  thoiicrli  not  actually  cxcrci^iiif:,  he  is  a  8iii;rcr 

-  Kut  thiMT  is  anutlicr  relation  of  potcnti-  in  tirtii,  in  relation  to  liinisclf,  bclbro  In-  liml 

ality  and  actuality  which   I   may   notice, —  acquired  the  accomplishment.     This  afford.* 

llermoffenes,  Alfenus,   before,  and  after,  ac-  the  distinction  taken  by  Aristotle  of  first  and 

<luirinK   the   liabits   of  singer,   and    eobhliT.  second  enerjjy,  —  the  first  bein<;  the  habit  nc- 

Th(;re  is  thus  a  double   kind   of  potentialitv  <|iiirid,  the  second  the  immediate  cxcrci'^e  of 

and  actuality,  — for  when    Hermouenes   has  that  habit.     [Cf.  iJi- ^Mi>"a,  lib   ii  c.  — Ed.) 
obtained  the  habit  and    power  of  singin;;. 


LECTURE     XI. 


OUTLINE    OF    DISTRIBUTION    OF    MENTAL    PHtENOMENA 
CONSCIOUSNESS,  — ITS   SPECIAL   CONDITIONS. 


I  NOW  proceed  to  the  consideration  of  the  important  subject,  — • 
the  Distribution  of  the  Mental  Phaenomena  into 

Distribution  of  the         .  i     •  •  .  i     i  t  t 

,  ,   ,  their  pnmary  or  most  e;eneral  classes.     In  regrard 

mental  phenomena.  ... 

to  the  distribution  of  the  mental  ])haenomena,  I 
shall  not  at  present  attempt  to  give  any  history  or  criticism  of  the 
various  classifications  which  have  been  proposed  by  different  philo- 
sophers. These  classifications  are  so  numerous,  and  so  contra- 
dictory, that,  in  the  present  stage  of  your  knowledge,  such  a"history 
would  only  fatigue  the  memory,  without  informing  the  understand- 
ing; for  you  cannot  be  expected  to  be  as  yet  able  to  comjirehond, 
at  least  many  of  the  reasons  which  may  be  alleged  for,  or  against, 
the  different  distributions  of  the  human  faculties.  I  shall,  therefore, 
at  once  proceed  to  state  the  classification  of  these,  which  I  have 
adopted  as  the  best. 

In  taking  a  comprehensive  survey  of  the  mental  phaenomena, 

these  are  all  seen  to  comprise  one  essential  ele- 
Consciousness,— tiie       me*^*,  or  to  be  possible  only  under  one  necessary 

one  essential  element  t^.  rnt  •         i  ,  t,-  •      /-^ 

.^,         ,  ,    ,  condition.     1  Ins   element  or  condition  is  Con- 

or the  mental  pheno- 
mena, sciousness,  or  the  knowledge  that  I,  —  that  tlie 

Ego  exists,  in  some  determinate  state.  In  this 
knowledge  they  appear,  or  are  realized  as  pha^nomena,  and  with  this 
knowledge  they  likewise  disappear,  or  have  no  longer  a  pluenomenal 
existence  ;  so  that  consciousness  may  be  compared  to  an  internal 
light,  by  means  of  which,  and  which  alone,  what  passes  in  the  mind 
is  rendered  visible.  Consciousness  is  simple,  —  is  not  coin])Osed  of 
])arts,  either  similar  or  dissimilar.  It  always  resembles  itself,  differ- 
ing only  in  the  degrees  of  its  intensity  ;  thus,  there  are  not  various 
kinds  of  consciousness,  although  there  are  various  kinds  of  mental 
modes,  or  states,  of  which  we  are  conscious.  Whatever  division, 
therefore,  of  the  mental  phaenomena  may  be  adopted,  all  its  mem- 
bers must  be  within  consciousness  itself,  which  must  be  viewed  as 
t 


Lect.  XI.  METAPHYSICS.  127 

comprehensive  of  the  "vvholc  phaenomena  to  be  divided  ;  far  less 
should  we  reduce  it,  as  a  special  phenomenon,  to  a  particular  class. 
Let  consciousness,  therefore,  remain  one  and  indivisible,  compre- 
hending all  the  modifications,  —  all  the  phainomena,  of  the  thinking 
subject. 

But  taking,  again,  a  survey  of  the  mental  modifications,  or  phte- 

nomena,  of  which  we  are  conscious,  —  these  are 

Three  grand  classes       seen   to    divide    themselves   into   THREE   great 

of    mental    phajnom-  t        i        i^.  i  ^i  >7  i 

^11^  classes.      In  the  hrst  place,  there  are  the  pha*- 

nomena  of  Knowledge;  in  the  second  place, 
there  are  the  phaenomena  of  Feeling,  or  the  phaenomena  of  Pk;i- 
sure  and  Pain;  and.  in  the  tlnrd  plnce,  there  arc  the  phsenomena  of 
Will  and  Desire.^ 

Let  me  illustrate  this  by  an  example,  I  see  a  ]»icture.  Xow,  first 
of  all,  —  I  am  conscious  of  perceiving  a  certain  complement  of 
colors  and  figures-,  —  I  recognize  what  the  object  is.  Tiiis  is  t!ie 
phajuomenon  of  Cognition  or  Knowledge.  But  this  is  not  the 
only  i)ha3nomenon  of  which  I  may  be  here  conscious.  I  may  expe- 
rience certain  affections  in  the  contemplation  of  this  object.  If  tlie 
])icture  be  a  masterpiece,  the  gratification  will  be  unalloyed ;  but  if 
it  be  an  unequal  ])roduction,  I  shall  be  conscious,  ]ierhaps,  of  enjoy- 
ment, but  of  enjoyment  alloyed  with  dissatisfictiou.  This  is  the 
phajnomenon  of  Feeling,  —  or  of  Pleasure  and  Pain.  But  these 
two  phaenomena  do  not  yet  exhaust  all  of  which  I  may  be  conscious 
on  the  occasion.  I  may  desire  to  see  the  picture  long,  —  to  see  it 
often,  —  to  make  it  my  own,  and,  perh:ii)s,  I  may  will,  resolve,  or 
determine  so  to  do.  This  is  the  complex  phaenomenou  of  Will  and 
Desire. 

The  P^nglish  language,  unfortunately,  does  not  afford  us  terms 
com])etent    to    express    and    discriminate,    with 

Their  nomenclature. 

even  tolerable  clearness  and  precision,  these 
classes  of  ])hamomena.  Li  rcgaril  to  tlu'  first,  in<U'ed,  we  have 
comi)arative!y  little  reason  to  comphun,  —  the  synonymous  terms, 
knowledge  and  cof/nitfon,  suffice  to  distinguish  the  phaenomena  of 
this  class  from  tliose  of  the  other  two.  Tii  tlie  second  class,  the 
defc  ct  of  the  language  becomes  more  :i])j)areiit.  The  wordy''/////// 
is  the  only  term  under  wliich  we  can  possibly  collect  the  phaenom- 
ena of  i>leasure  and  pain,  and  yet  this  Avord  is  ambiguous.  For  it 
is  not  only  employed  to  denote  what  we  are  conscious  of  as  agree- 
able or  disagreeable  in  oxn-  mental  states,  but  it  is  likewise  used  as  a 

1  Compare  Stewart's  Works,  voi.  i..  Advertisement  by  Editor.  —  Ed. 


128  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XX 

synonym  for  the  sense  of  toucli,^  It  is,  however,  principally  in 
I'elatiou  to  the  third  class  that  the  deficiency  is  manifested.  In 
English,  xmfortunately,  we  have  no  term  capable  of  adequately 
expressing  wh.at  is  common  both  to  will  and  desire ;  that  is,  the 
nisiis  or  conatti.'t,  —  the  tendency  towards  the  realization  of  their 
end.  By  will  is  meant  a  free  and  deliberate,  by  desire  a  blind  and 
fatal,  tendency  to  act.*  Now,  to  express,  I  say,  the  tendency  to 
overt  action,  —  the  quality  in  which  desire  and  will  are  equally 
contained, — Ave  possess  no  English  term  to  which  an  exception  of 
more  or  less  cogency  may  not  be  taken.  Were  we  to  say  the  phae- 
nomena  of  tendency/,  the  phrase  would  be  vague ;  and  the  same  is 
true  of  the  phenomena  of  doing.  Again,  the  term  pha?nomena  of 
iippetency  is  objectionable,  because,  (to  say  nothing  of  the  unfa- 
miliarity  of  the  expression,)  cqyi^etency,  though  jjerhaps  etymologi- 
cally  unexceptionable,  has  both  in  Latin  and  English  a  meaning 
almost  synonymous  with  desire.  Like  the  Latin  appctadla^  the 
Greek  ope^ts  is  equally  ill-balanced,  for,  though  used  by  i)hilosophers 
to  comprehend  both  will  and  desire,  it  more  familiarly  suggests  the 
latter,  and  we  need  not,  therefore,  be  solicitous,  with  Mr.  Harris 
and  Lord  Monboddo.  to  naturalize  in  English  the  term  orectic^ 
Again,  the  phrase  phasnomena  of  activity  would  be  even  worse ; 
every  })ossible  objection  can  be  inade  to  the  term  active  j^oivers,  bv 
which  the  philosophers  o?  this  country  have  designated  the  orectic 
facultiet^  of  the  Aristotelians.  For  you  will  observe,  that  all  facul- 
ties are  equally  active  ;  and  it  is  not  the  overt  performance,  but  the 
tendency  towards  it,  for  whicli  we  are  in  quest  of  an  expression. 
The  German  is  the  only  language  I  am  acquainted  with  which  is 
able  to  sui)ply  the  term  of  which  philosophy  is  in  Avant.  The  ex- 
pression Ihstrehungs  Vermoyen.,  which  is  most  nearly,  though  awk- 
wardly and  inadequately,  translated  by  striving  faculties,  —  faculties 
of  effort  or  endeavor,  —  is  now  generally  employed,  in  the  philoso- 
phy of  Germany,  as  the  genus  comprehending  desire  and  Avill.  Per- 
haps the  phrase,phoenomena  of  exertion,!?,,  upon  the  Avhole,  the  best 
expression  to  denote  the  manifestations,  and  exertive  faculties,  the 
best  expression  to  denote  tlie  faculties  of  Avill  and  desire.  HJxero,  in 
Latin,  means  litei-ally  to  put  forth,  —  and,  Avith  us,  exertion  and 
exertive  are  the  only  endurable  woi-ds  that  I  can  find  Avhich  a]>proxi- 
mate,  though  distantly,  to  the  strength  and  precision  of  the  German 

1  [Brown  uses  feeling  for  consciousness.  —  2  Cf.  Aristotle,  Rhet.  i.  10:  ^ov\r)ffii,  fiera 

Oral   Inierp.];  e.  g.   Philosophy  0/ the   Human       y^iyo^,    ^pf|,j     iiyaSrov,    &\oyoi.     S'    opf^tis, 

Minrl,  Lecture  xi.     "  The  mind  is  susceijtible       1      \         \   >     rv      /  ,, 

of  a  variety  of  feelings,  every  new  leelni"  be-  \,      _       ,  ,. 

,  i.  -i      .  i    .,     c-  1      ,-!•  :t  !^ee  Lord  Alonbod(\o's  Ancient  Metaphysics, 

me  a  change  or  its  state.'     Second  edition,  ,       ,    ..     ,  .     .  . 

,    .        „r»i       1'  book  11.  chaps,  vn.  IX  — Ld. 
vol.  1.  p.  222.  —  Ld.  '^ 


Lect.  XI.  METAPHYSICS.  129 

expression.  I  shall,  hoAVOver,  occasionally  employ  likewise  the  term 
appttencAj^  in  the  rigorous  signification  I  have  mentioned,  —  as  a 
genns  comprehending  under  it  botli  desires  and  volitions.^ 

This  division  of  the  i)]iaenomena  of  mind  into  the  three  great 
classes  of  the  Cognitive  faculties,  —  the  Feel- 
By  whom  ti.i.s  ti.ree-       j^^^^^^^  ^^.  c-jpycities  of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  —  and 

fold   distribution    first  "^      _,  .  ^  •  -n  t     i 

jjj^jg  the   Kxertive   or  Conative   Powers,  —  i   flo   not 

propose  as  original.  It  was  first  promulgated 
by  Kant ; '  and  the  felicity  of  the  distribution  was  so  a[)))arent,  that 
it  has  now  been  long  all  but  universally  adopted  in  (Tcrmany  by  the 
])hil(>sopl»ers  of  every  school ;  and,  what  is  curious,  the  only  phi- 
losopher of  any  eminence  by  whom  it  has  been  assailed,  —  indeed, 
the  only  philosoplier  of  any  reputation  by  wlioin  it  has  been,  in  that 
country,  rejected,  is  not  an  opponent  of  the  Kantian  philosophy, 
but  one  of  its  most  zealous  champions,'^  To  the  psychologists  of 
this  country,  it  is  apparently  wholly  unknown.  They  still  adhere 
to  the  old  scholastic  division  into  pOM'ers  of  the  Understanding  and 
j)Owers  of  the  Will ;  or,  as  it  is  otherwise  expressed,  into  Intellectual 
and  Active  powers,* 

By  its  author,  the  Kantian  classification  has  received  no  illustra- 
tion ;  and  by  other  German  philosophers,  it  has 
Objection  to  the  class-       .ipp^i.^^tK.  {,eeii  viewed  as  too  manifest  to  re- 

ificatiou  obviated.  ^  ^  -vt  t  •    i      • 

quire  any.  Nor  do  I  tlunk  it  needs  much ; 
though  a  few  words  in  explanation  may  not  be  inexpedient.  An 
objection  to  the  arrangement  may,  perl)aps,  be  taken  on  the  ground 
that  the  tlirce  classes  are  not  coordinate.  It  is  evident  that  every 
mental  pluenomenon  is  either  an  act  of  knowle<lge,  or  only  possible 
through  an  act  of  knowledge,  for  consciousness  is  a  knowledge,  —  a 
pluenonicnoii  of  cognition  ;  and,  on  tliis  principle,  many  ])hiloso- 
jihers,  —  as  J^escartes,  Leibnitz,  Spino/.i,  Wolf,  Platner,  and  others, 
— ^have  been  led  to  regard  the  knowing,  or  representative  faculty, 
as  thev  called  it,  —  the  facultv  of  cognition,  as  the  fundamental 
power  of  mind,  from  wliich  all  others  are  derivative.     To  this  the 

1  18-18.      Tlic  toim  Cnnntive  (from  Conijri)  is  -  Kritik  der    Urtheilskrn/t,    Einleitini;?.     The 

employed  by  Cud  worth  in  liis  Trratise  on  Fret  same  division  is  also  adopted  as  tlie  l)asis  of 

Will,  published  some  years  ago  from  his  MSS.  his  Ant/iropoln^ie.  —  Ed. 

in  file  Rritisli  ^Iiisrum.     [A  Treatise  oh   Free  3  This  iiliilosopher  is  Kru^,  who   attacked 

Will,  hy  Kalpli  (  iidworth,  D.   D.,  edited   by  the  Kantian  di\ision  in  Ids  (rrvntUnge  zu  einer 

John    Allen,    yX.  \.        London,    l.'^.TS,    p.   31.  neucn  Tlirnrie  ihr  Gi/iMe  utul  (Jra  ann^mnnntrn 

"  Xotwithstandinf;  which,  the  hegemonic  of  Oc/tiAAsivry/ieg-ciij,  Konigsberg,  1823.    See  also 

the  soul  may,  by  conatives  and  endeavors.  his  Handwortrrbuch  der  Philosophisehen  Wissen- 

«cquin»  more  and  more  power  over  them."  schaftm,  art.  GifMl  and  SeeUnhra/le.    A  fuller 

Tlie   terms   Conntinit  and    Conaiivf   are   tho.se  account  of  this  controversy  is  given  by  Sir 

finally  adopted  by  the  Author,   as   the  most  W.  Hnniilton  in  a  subseiiuent  Lecture.     See 

appropriate    e.vpix'ssious    for    tlie    class    of  Lectures  on  the  Feelings.  —  Ed. 

phn?nomena  in  question.  —  Ed.  4  S?o  bc'ow,  Lect.  XX.  —  Ed. 


130  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.   XI 

answer  is  easy.  These  philosophers  did  not  observe  that,  although 
pleasure  and  pain  —  although  desire  and  volition,  are  only  as  they 
are  known  to  be  ;  yet,  in  these  modifications,  a  quality,  a  ])ha)uom- 
enon  of  mind,  absolutely  new,  has  been  superadded,  which  was 
never  involved  in,  and  could,  therefore,  never  have  been  evolved 
out  of,  the  mere  faculty  of  knowledge.  The  faculty  of  knowledge 
is  certainly  the  first  in  order,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  conditio  sine  qua 
non  of  the  others  ;  and  we  are  able  to  conceive  a  being  possessed 
of  the  power  of  recogniziiig  existence,  and  yet  wholly  void  of  all 
feeling  of  pain  and  pleasure,  and  of  all  powers  of  desire  and  voli- 
tion. On  the  other  hand,  we  are  wholly  unable  to  conceive  a  being 
possessed  of  feeling  and  desire,  and,  at  the  same  time,  without  a 
knowledge  of  any  object  upon  which  his  affections  may  be  em- 
ployed, and  without  a  consciousness  of  these  affections  themselves. 

We  can  farther  conceive  a  being  possessed  of  knoAvledge  and 
feeling  alone  —  a  being  endowed  with  a  power  of  recognizing  ob- 
jects, of  enjoying  the  exercise,  and  of  grieving  at  the  restraint,  of 
his  activitv,  —  and  yet  devoid  of  that  facultv  of  voluntarv  ao;encv  — 
of  that  conation,  which  is  possessed  by  man.  To  such  a  being 
would  belong  feelings  of  pain  and  pleasure,  but  neither  desire  nor 
will,  properly  so  called.  On  the  other  hand,  however,  we  cannot 
possibly  conceive  the  existence  of  a  voluntary  activity  independ- 
ently of  all  feeling;  for  voluntary  conation  is  a  faculty  which  can 
only  be  determined  to  energy  through  a  pain  or  pleasure,  —  through 
an  estimate  of  the  relative  worth  of  objects. 

In  distinguishing  the  cognitions,  feelings,  and  conations,  it  is  not, 
therefore,  to  be  supposed  that  these  phjenomena  are  possible  inde- 
pendently of  each  other.  In  our  philosophical  systems,  they  may 
stand  separated  from  each  other  in  books  and  chapters ;  —  in  nature, 
they  are  ever  interwoven.  In  every,  the  simj)lest,  modification  of 
mind,  knowledge,  feeling,  and  desire  or  will,  go  to  constitute  the 
mental  state ;  and  it  is  only  by  a  scientific  abstraction  that  we  are 
able  to  analyze  the  state  into  elements,  which  are  never  really  ex- 
istent but  in  mutual  combination.  These  elements  are  found,  indeed, 
in  very  various  proportions  in  diflfereut  states,  —  sometimes  one  pre- 
ponderates, sometimes  another ;  but  there  is  no  state  in  which  they 
are  not  all  coexistent. 

Let  the  mental  phaenoraena,  therefore,  be  distributed  under  the 
three  heads  of  phaenomena  of  Cognition,  or  the  faculties  of  Knowl- 
edge; phaenomena  of  Feeling,  or  the  capacities  of  Pleasure  and 
Pain;  and  phaenomena  of  Desiring  or  AVilling,  or  the  powers  of 
Conation. 

The  order  of  these  is  determined  bv  their  relative  consecution. 


Lect.  XI.  METAPHYSICS.  llJl 

Feeling  and  appetency  snppose  knowledge.     The  cognitive  facul- 
ties,   therefore,    stand    first.     But    as    will,    and 

Order  of  the   men-         -i      •  i  •  i  i    :i„     ,p4-v, 

desn-e,  ant  I  aversion,  suppose  a  knowledge  or  the 

tal  phaenomcna.  '       i  i  ^  ^n  j 

pleasurable  and  painful,  the  feelings  will  stand 
second  as  intermediate  between  the  other  two. 

Such  is  the  highest  or  most  general  classification  of  the  mental 

phsenonicna,  or  of  the  phaenomena  of  which  we 

Consciousness,    the       ^^.^  conscious.    But  as  thcsc  primary  classes  are, 

first  object  of  consid-  n    •       i      i     t  i 

as  we  have  shown,  ail  included  under  one  um- 

eration.  ' 

versal  pha'iiomenon, — the  phrenomenon  of  con- 
sciousness, —  it  follows  that  Consciousness  must  form  the  first  object 
of  our  consideration. 

I  shall  not  attempt  to  give  you  any  preliminary  detail  of  the 
opinions  of  philosophers  in  relation  to  consciousness.  The  only 
eifect  of  this  would  be  to  confuse  you.  It  is  necessary,  in  the  first 
plAce,  to  obtain  correct  and  definite  notions  on  the  subject,  and  hav- 
ing obtainiMl  these,  it  will  be  easy  for  you  to  understand  in  what 
respects  the  opinions  that  have  been  hazarded  on  the  cardinal  i)oint 
of  all  jjhilosophy,  are  inadequate  or  erroneous.     I  may  notice  that 

Dr.  Keid  and  Mr.  SteM'art  have  favored  us  with 
No  special  account       ^^  special   or  articulate  account. of  conscious- 

of    consciousness    by  ,™,        „  .  •-,-,•.        t     i  -i 

Ueid  or  Stewart  '^^^^^     ^"'^  formcr,  indeed,  intended  and  prom- 

ised this.  In  the  seventh  chapter  of  the  first 
Essay  On  the  Intellectual  Poioers,  which  is  entitled  Dirision  of  the 
Powers  of  the  Mind,  the  concluding  paragraph  is  as  follows :  — 

"I  shall  not,  therefore,  atteinjjt  a  complete  enumeration  of  the 
powers  of  the  human  understanding.  I  shall  only  mention  those 
which  I  propose  to  explain,  and  they  are  the  following: 

"1st,  The  ])owers  Ave  have  by  means  of  our  External  Senses; 
2d]y,  Memory  ;  oily,  Conception  ;  4thly,  The  powers  of  Resolving 
and  Analyzing  complex  objects,  and  comi)Ounding  those  that  are 
more  Bim])le ;  5thly,  Judging;  fithly,  Reasoning;  7thly,  Taste; 
Stilly,  I^Ioral  Perception;  an<l,  last  of  all,  Consciousness.""^ 

The  work,  however,  contains  no  essay  upon  Consciousness  ;  but, 
in  reference  to  this  deficiency,  the  author,  in  the  last  paragraph  of 
the  book,  statt^s,  —  "As  to  Consciousness,  wh.u  I  think  necessary  to 
be  said  upon  it  has  been  already  said ;  Essay  vi.,  cliap.  v,"-'  —  the 
chapter,  to  wit,  entitled  On  the  Pirst  Prinrlples  of  Contingent 
Truths.  To  that  chapter  you  may,  however,  add  what  is  spoken  of 
consciousness  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  first  Essay,  entitletl,  Kxpll- 
cation  of  Words,  §  1  .^  "We  are,  therefore,  left  to  glean  the  opinion 
of  both  Reld  and  Stewart  on  the  subject  of  consciousness,   from 

1  Works,  p.  244.  —  Ed.  2  lb.  p.  508.  —  Ed.  .t  lb.  p.  222.  —  Ed. 


132  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XI 

incidental  notices  in  their  writings  ;  but  these  are  fortunately  suffi- 
cient to  supply  us  with  tlie  necessary  information  in  regard  to  theii 
opinions  on  this  subject. 

Nothing  has  contributed  more  to  spread  obscurity  over  a  very 

transparent  matter,  than  tlie  attempts  of   phi- 

consciousness  can-       1030^!^^.,.^  ^q  jefiji^  consciousncss.   Consciousncss 

not  be  defined.  i         t    r-        i 

cannot  be  denned ;  we  may  be  ourselves  fully 
aware  what  consciousness  is,  but  we  cannot,  without  confusion,  con- 
vey to  others  a  definition  of  what  we  oui'selves  cleai'ly  api)rehend. 
The  reason  is  plain.  Consciousness  lies  at  the  root  of  all  knowl- 
edge. Consciousness  is  itself  the  one  highest  source  of  all  compre- 
hensibility  and  illustration,  —  liow,  then,  can  we  find  aught  else  by 
which  consciousness  may  be  illustrated  or  comprehended?  To 
accomplish  this,  it  would  be  necessary  to  have  a  second  conscious- 
ness, through  whicli  we  might  be  conscious  of  the  mode  in  which 
the  first  consciousness  was  possible.  Many  philoso|)hers,  —  and 
among  others  Dr.  Brown,  —  have  defined  consciousness  a yeg^i«^.i 
But  how  do  they  define  a  feeling?  They  define,  and  must  define  it, 
as  something  of  Avhich  we  are  conscious;  for  a  feeling  of  which  we 
are  not  conscious,  is  no  feeling  at  all.  Here,  therefore,  they  are 
guilty  of  a  logical  see-saw,  or  circle.  They  define  consciousness  by 
feeling,  and  feeling  by  consciousness, —  that  is,  they  explain  the 
same  by  the  same,  and  thus  leave  us  in  the  end  no  wiser  than  we 
were  in  the  beginning.  Other  philosophers  say  that  consciousness 
is  a  knowledge,  —  and  others,  again,  that  it  is  a  belief  or  conviction 
of  a  knowledge.  Here,  again,  we  have  the  same  violation  of  logi- 
cal law.  Is  there  any  knowledge  of  which  we  are  not  conscious? 
Is  there  any  belief  of  which  we  are  not  conscious  ?  There  is  not, 
—  there  cannot  be  ;  therefore,  consciousness  is  not  contained  under 
either  knowledge  or  belief,  but,  on  the  contrary,  knowledge  and 
belief  are  both  contained  under  consciousness.  In  short,  the  notion 
of  consciousness  is  so  elementary,  that  it  cannot  possibly  be  resolved 
into  others  more  simple.  It  cannot,  therefore,  be  brought  under 
any  genus,  —  any  more  general  conception;  and,  consequently,  it 
cannot  be  defined. 

But  though  consciousness  cannot  be  logically  defined,  it  may,  how- 
ever, be  philosophically  analyzed.    This  analysis 

Consciousness    ad-       ^^  effected  by  observing  and  holding  fast  the 

mits  of  pliilosophical  n  n  • 

^^^j  gjg  ])h{finomena  or  lacts  oi  consciousness,  comparing 

these,  and,  from  this  comparison,  evolving  the 
imiversal  conditions  under  which  alone  an  act  of  consciousness  is 
possible. 

1  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind.    Lecture  xi.-.  vol.  i.  p.  227-237.    Second  edition.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XL  METAPHYSICS.  1?A 


'3 


■JO 


It  is  only  in  following  this  method  that  we  can  attain  to  precise 
and  accurate  knowledge  of  the  contents  of  consciousness ;  and  it 
need  not  afflict  us  if  the  result  of  our  investigation  be  very  different 
from  the  conclusions  that  have  been  previously  held. 

But,  before  proceeding  to  show  you  in  detail  what  the  act  of 
consciousness   comjirises,   it   may  be  j^i'oper,  in 

What  kind  of  act  the  fivst  ]»lace,  to  recall  to  you,  in  general,  what 
the  wor<i  conscious-       j^j^^j  ^^'  .^^.^.  ^,,^,  ^^,^,.,-j  j^  emj)l()vcd  to  denote.     I 

ness    is    employed    to  t    /-     i     t     i      •  i\^i      .    •      •        i 

denote;    an.l    what    it         ^UOW,    I    fccl,    I    ih'iiUV,    etc.       A\  hat    IS  it    that    IS 

involves.  necessarily  involved   in    all  these?     It   requires 

onlv  to  be  stated  to  be  admitted,  that  when  I 
know,  I  must  know  that  I  know,  —  when  I  feel,  T  must  know  that  I 
feel,  —  when  I  desire,  I  must  know  that  I  desire.  The  knowledge, 
the  feeling,  the  desire,  ai'e  j^ossible  only  under  the  condition  of 
being  known,  and  being  known  by  me.  For  if  I  did  not  know  that 
I  knew,  I  would  not  know,  —  if  I  did  not  know  that  I  felt,  I  would 
not  feel,  —  if  I  did  not  know  that  I  desired,  I  would  not  desire. 
Now,  this  knowledge,  Avdiich  I,  the  subject,  have  of  these  modifica- 
tions of  my  being,  and  through  which  knowledge  alone  these  modi- 
fications are  possible,  is  what  we  call  consciousness.  The  expressions, 
/  Jcnoic  that  I  Jmo^c^ —  T  know  that  I  feel ^  —  I  know  that  I  desire^ 
—  are  thus  translated  by,  I  ain  conscioxs  that  I  know.,  —  I  am  con- 
scious that  Ifcclf  —  I  am  conscious  that  T  desire.  Consciousness  is 
thus,  on  the  one  hand,  the  recognition  by  the  mind  or  ego  of  its  acts 
and  affections ;  —  in  other  words,  the  self-affirmation,  that  certain 
modifications  are  known  by  me,  and  tJiat  these  modifications  are 
mine.  But,  on  the  other  liand,  consciousness  is  not  to  be  viewed  as 
anything  diflT:'rent  from  these  modifications  themselves,  but  is,  in 
fact,  the  general  condition  of  their  existence,  or  of  their  existence 
within  the  sphere  of  intelligence.  Though  the  simjdest  act  of 
mind,  consciousness  thus  expresses  a  relation  subsisting  between 
two  terms.  These  tenns  are,  on  the  one  hand,  an  I  or  Self,  as  the 
subject  of  a  certain  modification,  —  and,  on  the  other,  some  modifi- 
cation, state,  quality,  afl^ectioii,  or  operation  belonging  to  the  sub- 
ject. Consciousness,  thus,  in  its  simplicity,  necessarily  involves 
three  tilings, —  1°,  A  recognizing  or  knowing  subject;  2°,  A  recog- 
nized or  known  modification ;  and,  3°,  .V  recognition  or  knowledge 
by  the  subject  of  the  modification. 

Fronv  this   it    is  a2)parent,  that  consciousness 
Consciousness   and       .^,j,^  knowledge  cacli  iuvolvc  the  other.     An  act 

knowledge        involve  i  i       *i       /<  i 

each  other.  ^*  knowledge  may  be  expressed  by  the  tormula, 

Tk/ioir;  an  act  of  consciousness  by  the  formula, 
r  know  that  I  know:  but  as  it   is  iiiip<issibl('  for  us  to  know  with, out 


1:14  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XL 

at  the  same  time  knowing  that  we  know ;  so  it  is  impossible  to 
know  that  we  know  withont  our  actually  knowing.  The  one 
merely  explicitly  expresses  AV'hat  the  other  implicitly  contains.  Con- 
sciousness and  knowledge  are  thus  not  opposed  as  I'eally  different. 
AVhy,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  employ  two  terms  to  express  notions, 
which,  as  they  severally  infer  each  other,  are  really  identical?  To 
this  the  answer  is  easy.  Realities  may  be  in  themselves  insepara- 
ble, while,  as  objects  of  our  knowledge,  it  may 

Nature  of  scientific         i  ,  •  i        ^i  ^        -vt    i- 

,    .  be  necessar}^  to  consider  them  apart.     Notions, 

likewise,  may  severally  imply  each  other,  and  be 
inseparable  even  in  thought;  yet,  for  the  jiurposes  of  science,  it  may 
be  requisite  to  distinguish  them  by  different  terms,  and  to  consider 
them  in  their  relations  or  correlations  to  each  other.     Take  a  geo- 
metrical example,  —  a  triangle.    This  is  a  whole 
"''"*^*'     ^  ^  ^'*'""       composed   of  certain  parts.      Here  the   whole 

metrical  example.  '  .  -^ 

cannot  be  conceived  as  sejiarate  from  its  parts, 
and  the  parts  cannot  be  conceived  as  separate  from  their  whole. 
Yet  it  is  scientifically  necessary  to  have  different  names  for  each, 
and  it  is  necessary  now  to  consider  the  whole  in  relation  to  the 
parts,  and  now  the  parts  in  correlation  to  the  Avhole.  Again,  the 
constituent  parts  of  a  triangle  are  sides  and  angles.  Here  the  sides 
suppose  the  angles,  —  the  angles  suppose  the  sides,  —  and,  in  fact, 
the  sides  and  angles  are  in  themselves  —  in  reality,  one  and  indi- 
visible. But  they  are  not  the  same  to  us,  —  to  our  knowledge. 
For  though  we  cannot  abstract  in  thought,  the  sides  from  the  angle, 
the  angle  from  the  sides,  we  may  make  one  or  other  the  principal 
object  of  attention.  We  may  either  consider  the  angles  in  relation 
to  each  other,  and  to  the  sides ;  or  the  sides  in  relation  to  each 
other,  and  to  the  angles.  And  to  express  all  this,  it  is  necessary  to 
distinguish,  in  thought  and  in  expression,  what,  in  nature,  is  one 
and  indivisible. 

As  it  is  in  geometry,  so  it  is  in  the  philosophy  of  mind.      We 

require  different  words,  not  only  to  express  ob- 
Hy  the  distinctiou       j^,^.^^  .^^^^^  relations  different  in  themselves,  but 

of   coupciousness   and         '  t        i      . 

knowledge  ^^  express  the  same  objects  and  relations  under 

the  different  points  of  view  in  which  they  are 
placed  by  the  mind,  when  scientifically  considei'ing  them.  Thus, 
in  the  present  instance,  consciousness  and  knowledge  are  not  dis- 
tinguished by  different  words  as  different  things,  but  only  as  the 
same  thing  considered  in  different  aspects.  The  verbal  distinction 
is  taken  for  the  sake  of  brevity  and  precision,  and  its  convenience 
warrants  its  establishment.     Knowledge  is  a   relation,   r>nd  everv 


Lkct.  XI.  METAPHYSICS.  135 

reliition  supposes  two  terras.  Thus,  in  the  relation  in  question, 
there  is,  on  the  one  liand,  a  subject  of  knowledge, — that  is,  tlie 
knowing  mind,  —  and  on  the  other,  there  is  an  object  of  knowledge, 
—  that  is,  the  thing  known;  and  the  knowledge  itself  is  the  rela- 
tion between  these  two  terms.  Now,  thougli  each  term  of  a  rela- 
tion necessarily  su|»poses  the  other,  nevertheless  one  of  these  terms 
may  be  to  us  the  more  interesting,  and  we  may  consider  that  term 
as  the  principal,  and  view  the  other  only  as  subordinate  and  correl- 
ative. Now,  this  is  the  case  in  the  i)resent  instance.  In  an  act  of 
knowledge,  my  attention  may  be  princii)ally  attracted  either  to  the 
object  known,  or  to  myself  as  the  subject  knowing ;  and,  in  the 
latter  case,  although  no  new  element  be  added  to  the  act,  the  con- 
dition involved  in  it,  —  Tknoir  that  I kuoic,  —  becomes  the  jirimary 
and  prominent  matter  of  consideration.  And  when,  as  in  the  j^hi- 
iosophy  of  niinil,  the  act  of  knowledge  comes  to  be  specially  consid- 
ered in  relatioii  to  the  knowing  subject,  it  is,  at  last,  in  the  progress 
of  the  science,  found  convenient,  if  not  absolutely  necessary,  to 
)»ossess  a  scientific  word  in  which  this  point  of  view  should  be  per- 
manentlv  and  distinctivelv  emliodied.  But,  as  the  want  of  a  tech- 
nical  and  appro]iriate  expression  could  be  exj)erienced  only  aftet 
])sycho!ogical  abstraction  had  acquired  a  certain  stability  and  impor- 
tance, it  is  evident  that  the  appropriation  of  such  an  expression 
could  not,  in  any  language,  be  of  very  early  date.  And  this  is 
shown  by  the  history  of  the  synonymous  terms  for  consciousness 

in   the   different   languages, — a   history    whi«'h. 

History  <)1' till'  term  ,,  ,  •  •^^     n      ^  i.-        i      • 

.  tliouiju    curious,   you    will   nna    noticed    in   no 

conscjousness.  ;        _  ■■ 

]tublication  whatCAer.  The  employment  of  the 
word  coiisch  iithi,  of  which  our  term  consciousness  is  a  translation, 
is,  in  its  j)sychological  signification,  not  older  than  the  ])hilosophy 
of  Descartes,  Previously  to  him,  this  word  was  used  almost  exclu- 
sively in  the  ethical  sense,  expressed  by  our  term  conscience,  and  in 
the  striking  and  apparently  appropriate  dictum  of  St.  Augustin, — 

"certissima  scientia  et  clainante  conscientia"'  — 

Itc   use   b\'   St.    Au-  1  •    I  11      ^  I-  ^.i  i      i     i 

which  vou  mav  nnd  so  ireiiuentlv  ])arade(l  bv 
the  continental  jihilosophers,  when  illustrating 
the  certainty  of  consciousness;  in  that  quotation,  the  term  is,  by  its 
author,  a]i])lii'd  only  in  its  moral  or  religious  signification.  Besides 
the  moral  application,  the  wor<ls  conscire  and  conscientia  were  fre- 
quently employed  to  denote  participation  in  a  common  knowledge. 
Thus  the  members  of  a  conspiracy  were  said  conscire,  —  and  ro/i- 
scius  is  even  used  for  conspirator;  and,  metaphorically,  this  com- 

l  De  Trinitate.  xjii.  1.  — Ed. 


136  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XL 

munity  of  knowledge  is  attributed  to  inanimate  objects,  —  as,  wail- 
ing to  the  rocks,  a  lover  says  of  himself,  — 

"  Et  conscia  saxa  fatigo."  ' 

I  would  not,  however,  be  supposed  to  deny  that  these  words  were 
sometimes  used,  in  ancient  Latinity,  in  the  modern  sense  of  con- 
sciousness, or  bfeing  conscious.  An  unexceptionable  example  is. 
aftbrded  by  Quintilian  in  his  Institutiones,  lib.  xii.,  cap.  xi, ;  '^  and 
more  than  one  similar  instance  may  be  drawn  from  TertuUian,*  and 
other  of  the  Latin  Fathers. 

Until  Descartes,  therefore,  the  Latin  terms  conscire  and  eonscien- 
tia  were   very  rarely  usurped  in   their  present 

First  used  by  Des-       psvchological  meaning,  —  a  meaning  which,  it  is 

cartes  in  present  psv-  ti  t  i 

tiioiogicai  meaning."         nccdless  to  add,  was  not  expressed  by  any  term 

in  the  vulgar  languages ;  for,  besides  Tertullian, 
I  am  aware  of  only  one  or  two  obscure  instances  in  which,  as  trans- 
lations of  the  Greek  terms  (rwato-.?avo/xui  and  crvvaiaSrfa-L?,  of  which 
we  are  about  to  speak,  the  terms  eouscio  and  consclenticty  were,, 
as  the  nearest  equivalents,  contorted  from  their  established  signifi- 
cation to  the  sense  in  which  tliey  were  afterwards  emjjloyed  by 
Descartes.  Thus,  in  the  philosophy  of  the  West,  we  may  safely 
affirm  that,  prior  to  Descartes,  there  Avas  no  psychological  term  in 
recognized  use  for  what,  since  his  time,  is  expressed  in  philosoph- 
ical Latinity  by  conscientia,  in  French  by  conscience,  in  English  by 
consciousness,  in  Italian  by  conscienza,  and  in  German  by  Beicus- 
stseyn.  It  will  be  observed  that  in  Latin,  French,  and  Italian  (and 
I  might  add  the  Sjianish  and  other  Romanic  languages),  the  term* 
are  analogous ;  the  moral  and  psychological  meaning  being  denoted 
by  the  same  word. 

In  Greek  there  was  no  term  for  consciousness 
No  term  for  con-       „ntil  the  decline  of  philosophy,  and  in  the  later 

sciousness    in     Greek  «  ^,        ,  t-»,    ,    "         t     «    .  , 

until  the  decline  of  ^S^^  ""^  ^^^  language.  Plato  and  Aristotle,  to 
philosophy.  say  nothing  of  other  philosophei-s,  had  no  spe- 

cial term  to  express  the  knowledge  whicli   the 
mind   affords    of  the    operations   of  its   faculties,  though   this,  of 

»  Compare  Virgil,  ^neiW,  ix.  429:  "Coelum       Tusc.  ii.  4:   "  Mibi  sum  conscius,  nunquam 
hoc  et  conscia  sidera  tester."  me  uimis  cupidum  fui.=.«c  vita;."  —  Ed. 

[3  Df  Testimonio  Animae.  c.  5 :  "  Sed  qui  ejus- 

2  "  Conscius  sum  mihi,  quantum  mediocri-  .  modi  eruptionesanimsenonputavitdoctrinam 
tate  valui,  quaeque  antea  scierim  qua;que  ope-  e.-^se  natursct  congenita  et  ingenitie  conscien. 
ris  hujusce  gratia  pofuerim  inquirere,  can-  tia;  taotta  comm.'sa."  De  Came  C/tristi,c.S 
dide  meatquesimpliciter  in  notitiam  eorum.  "Sed  satis  erat  illi.  intiuis,  coufcientia  sua" 
si  qui  forte  cognoscere  voluissent,  protulissc."  (Y.  Aiigustin,  De  Tritiiiate.  x.  c.  7 :  "  Kt  quia 
This  sense,  however,  is  not  unusual.    Cf  Cic.      sibi  bene  conscia  est  principatus  sui  quo  cor- 

(lus  regit."' 


Lf.ct.  XL  METAPHYSICS.  13T 

course,   was   necessarily  a  frequent  matter  of  their  consideration. 
Intellect  was  supi)o.sed  by  them  to  be  cognizant  of  its  OAvn  opera- 
tions; it  was  only  doubted  whether  by  a  direct  or  by  a  reflex  act. 
In  regard  to  sense,  tlie  matter  was  more  perplexed;  and,  on  this 
point,  both  philosophers  seem  to  vacillate  in  their  opinions.     In  his 
Themtetus,^  Plato  accords  to  sense  the  power  of  perceiving  that  it 
perceives ;    whereas,    in   his    Chfinnides^-  this   power  he   denies   to 
sense,   and   attributes   to   intelligence,   (vous.)      In   like   manner,  an 
apparently  different  doctrine  may  be  found  in  diftei-ent  works  of 
Aristotle.     In  his    Trentise  on  the  Soul  he  thus   cogently  argues: 
"When  we  perceive  that  we  see,  hear,  etc.,  it  is  necessary  that  by 
sight  itself  we  perceive  that  we  see,  or  by  another  sense.     If  by 
another  sense,  then  this  also  must  be  a  sense  of  sight,  conversant 
equally  about  the  object  of  sight,  color.     Consequently  there  must 
either  be  two  senses  of  the  same  object,  or  every  sense  must  be 
percipient  of  itself.     Moreover,  if  the  sense  percii)ient  of  sight  be 
diffl'rent  from  sight  itself,  it  follows  either  that  there  is  a  regress 
to  infinity,  or  we  must  admit  at  last  some  sense  percipient  of  itself; 
but  if  so,  it  is  moi-e  reasonable  to  admit  this  in  the  original  sense 
at  once."'     Here  a  consciousness  is  apparently  attributed  to  each 
several  sense.     This,  however,  is  expressly  denied  in  his  work  '•'•On. 
Sleep  and  Wakh/f/,''''^  to  say  nothing  of  his  Fwhlein.^,  which,  I  ani 
inclined,  however,  to  think,   are  not  genuine.     It  is  there  stated 
that  sight  does  not  see  that  it  sees,  neither  can  sight  or  taste  judge 
that  sweet  is  a  quality  diffl'rent  from  Avhite;  but  that  this  is  the 
function  of  some  common  faculty,  in    \\  hidi  lluv  both   converge. 
Till'  apparent  repugnance  may,  however,  easily  be  reconciled.     But, 
what  concerns   us  at   present,  in    all   these  discussioiiv  by  the  two 
pliilosophers,  there    is    no    single  term   em})loyed    to    denote    that 
speciiU    aspect    of  the   phjcnomenon    of  knowledge,  which  is  thus 
by   them  made    a   matter  of   consideration.     It    is  only  under  the 
later  Platonists  and  Aristotelians  that  jn'culiai-  terms,  tantamount 
to  our   consciousness,   were  adopted   into   the  language  of  philos- 
oj)hy.     In  the  text  of  Diogenes  Laertius,  indeed,  (\  ii.  80,)  I   find 


1  "  Accedit  testimonium  Plntonis  in  TIr-.t-  I'lato,  liowt-v  t-r.  nicivly  (ii-iiics  Hint  flier.!  ciiii 

feto,  ul)i   nit   sensum   sfiitiro  cinoiJ   sciitit   et  be  a  scdsi- wliirli  jxTivivestho  net  ofsen-ation 

((Uoil  non  sentit.'  —  Caiiimhrirenses  in  Arisl.  ile  witlioiit  piTceivinj,'  its  object.  —  Kl>. 

Anim.  ii.  2.     I'he  pns>a;.'<'  referred  to  is  proba-  •'  D'  Anivia,  iii.  2  —Ed. 

blv  T/iewt..  p.  V.yi:  'ASwaTOf  .   .*.  h  oiV^o-  ••  De  Somno,  c.  2.  §  4.    The  passage  in  Hm 

vfTai  y(,  fTtpoi'  T,  uf  aiffi^avtrai,  o'ir}^rjvai  Pmhlenif,  which  may  perhaps  liave  the  same 

(Ivai.  KcA  h  oiVdai/eToi,  wu  ti  h>,  oiV^ai-fTof.  ""aninir.   tb.,u^th  it  admits  of  a  different  in- 

This    passape,    liowever,    is    not    exiictlr    in  i.  •  I'l''""'""-  '^  i"''''    x'    ?*?■    X(.>ptadft(raii 

po'Mt    -En  affr^(T«s  5iai/oiay  Kttdairtp  d«'Oi'<rdT?T0»' »0»'03 

J'       ^'•■.7.   ft    w/.   Cf.    (Onimbricenses.  1.  c  tyfi.      See  further,  />i.';'^"*  ■'>"-.  p  01  —  Kl> 

18 


138  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XI. 

(rvvei8r](TL<;  manifestly  employed  in  the  sense  of  consciousness.     This, 
however,  is  a  corrnpt  reading;  and  the  authority  of  the  best  man- 
uscripts and  of  the  best  critics  shows  that  o-i;V8e- 
Terms  tantamount  to       ^^^  jg  ^jie  true  lection.^     The  Greek  Platonists 

consciousness  adopted  ia-^.i-  •  iti  h  ■, 

ty  the  later  Platonists       ''^"^^  Aristotelians,  in  general,  did  not  allow  that 
and  Aristotelians.  the    recognition    that   we   know,  that   we  feel, 

that  ^\-e  desire,  etc.,  was  the  act  of  any  special 
faculty,  but  the  general  attribute  of  intellect ;  and  the  j)ower  of 
reflecting,  of  turning  back  ujwn  itself,  was  justly  viewed  as  the  dis- 
tinctive quality  of  intelligence.  It  was,  however,  necessary  to  pos- 
sess some  single  term  expressive  of  this  intellectual  retortion,  —  of 
this  itTLo-Tpo^-q  TTpos  lavTov,  and  the  term  o-Di^ato-^r^o-t?  was  adopted. 
This  I  find  employed  particularly  by  Proclus,  Plotinus  and  Simpli- 
cius.^  The  term  awetST/o-t?,  the  one  equivalent  to  the  vonscientia 
of  the  Latins,  remained  like  cotiscientia  itself,  long  exclusively 
applied  to  denote  conscience  or  the  moral  faculty;  and  it  is  only 
in  Greek  writers  who,  as  Eugenius  of  Bulgaria,  have  fiourished 
since  the  time  of  Descartes  and  Leibnitz,  that  o-vi/ciSr^o-t?  has,  'ike 
the  conscientia  of  the  Latins,  been  employed  in  the  psychological 
meaning  of  consciousness."  I  may  notice  that  the  word  o-uvcTriyj/wo-is, 
ill  the  sense  of  consciousness,  is  also  to  be  occasionally  met  with  in 
the  \iter  authors  on  philosophy  in  the  Greek  tongue.  The  ex- 
pression o-waicr^T^o-is,  which  properly  denotes  the  self-recognition  of 
sense  and  feeling,  was,  however,  extended  to  mark  consciousness 
^*''  in   general.      Some   of  the    Aristotelians,    how- 

(  ertain  of  ihe  Arii^-       evcr,  like   Certain  philosophers  in  this  country, 
toteiians     attributed       attributed  this  recognition  to  a  special  laculty. 

the    recof^iiition       ol  i  t    i  i 

sense  and  feeling  to  a       ^^   ^^esc   1   have   been    able  to   discover   only 
special  faculty.  three :  Philopoiius,  in  his  commentary  on  Aris- 

totle's treatise  Of  the  /Soul;*  Michael  Ephesius, 
ill  his  commentary  on  Aristotle's  treatise  of  Memory  and  Remin- 


1  The  correction  ai)v%iais  is  made  by  Men-  Pyih.  Carni.  41,  p.  213,  ed.  1654.  Sextus  Em 
ige  on  the  authority  of  Suidas,  v.  bpni].  piricus,  Ado.  Math.  ix.  68  (p.  407,  Bekker). 
Kuster,  on  the  other  hand,  proposes,  on  the  Michael  Ephesius,  In  Arist.  dt  Memoria,  p. 
authority  of  Laerfius.  to  read  (TweiSr)(ns  134.  Plutarch.  De  Profectibiis  in  Virtute,  c.  1, 
for  ffwSctrts  in  Suidas. —Ed.  3.    Plotinus,  £n»i.  iii.  lib.  4,  b. 4.    Siraplicius, 

.,  rT>i„4i„.  „     7-              i-v     ••■         „      „       ,  In  Arist.  Categ.  p.  SS,  b.ed.l5!jl.  —  Ed. 

2  [Plotmus,  Enn.  v.  hb.  in.  c.  2.    Pioclus,  „       .,_     7           I,  ^ 

Lw.  Theol  C.39.     Simplicius,  In  Epic.  EnMr.  '  ^'^  ^^'  ^"^'f   "^  Eugenu.s.   p.   113.     He 

p.  28,    Heins.-(p.   49,   Schweigh.)]     In   the  ^''"   "'"'   <rv,emyua>cns  m   the  same  sense. 

two  finst  of  these  passages,  avuaia^ffis  ap-  ^'''-'  "*''^  "'^''"'  "^''•'  '^^'  '"  ^"Hkv  eV  iraAai- 

pears  to  be  used   merely  in  its  etymological  <""'■*     ""^     vtwripuv    <Tvv(pavur^f7<Ta'     virh 

gense  of  perception  of  an  object  in  conjunc-  'S.vyfviov  ZianSvov  tov  BovKyapfws'  eV  Af'- 

tion  with  other  object.*.    In  the  last,  however,  tfi?  t/)s  2a|oi/ios.    "Erfj  ai^|r.  (176('.)  — Ed. 

it  seems  to  be  fully  equivalent  to  the  modern  4  On  lib.  iii.  c.  2.    lie  mentions  this  as  the 

consciousness;   as  also  in   llierocles.   In  Aurea  opinion  of  the  more  recci.t  iiiterprefers. —  Ed. 


Lkct.  XI.  METAPHYSICS.  139 

iscence;^  and  Michael  Psellus,  in  his  Avork  on  Various  Knowledgel^ 
It  is  doubted,  however,  whether  the  two  last  be  not  the  same  per- 
son ;  and  their  remarkable  coincidence  in  the  point  under  considera- 
tion, is  even  a  strong  argument  for  their  identity-  They  assign 
this  recognition  to  a  faculty  which  they  call  to  irpoaeKTLKou,  —  that  is 
TO  TrpoatKTLKov  /xepo?,  the  attentive  part  or  function  of  mind.  This  is 
tlie  first  indication  in  the  history  of  philosoi)hy  of  that  false  analysis 
which  has  raised  atteution  into  a  separate  faculty.  I  beg  you,  how- 
ever, to  observe,  that  Philoponus  and  his  follower,  Michael  Ephe- 
sius,  do  not  distinguish  attention  from  consciousness.  This  is  a 
point  we  are  hereafter  specially  to  consider,  when  ])erhaps  it  may 
be  found  that,  though  wrong  in  making  consciousness  or  attention 
a  peculiar  faculty,  they  were  right,  at  least,  in  not  dividing  con- 
sciousness and  attention  into  different  faculties. 

r>ut  to   return   from  our   historical   digression.     We   may  lay  it 

down  as  the  most  general  characteristic  of  con- 
T}ie  most  general       sciousucss,    that   it   is   the    recognition    by   the 
characteristic  of  con-       thinking  Subject  of  its  own  acts  or  affections. 

The  special  coudi-  ^«  *""'»"  ^lu're  is  110  difficulty  and  no  dispute, 

tious  of  consciousness.       lu  tliis  all  philosophers  are  agreed.     The  more 

arduous  task  remains  of  determining  the  sj)ecia] 
conditions  of  consciousness.  Of  these,  likewise,  some  are  almost 
too  palpable  to  admit  of  controversy.  Before  proceeding  to  those 
in  regard  to  which  there  is  any  doubt  or  difficulty,  it  will  be  proper, 

in  the  first  place,  to  state  and  dispose  of  suc'i 

1.  Those  generally       determinations  as  are  too  palpable  to  be  called 

*'''"''*'''  in  question.     Of  these  admitted  limitations,  the 

C'onscioiisness     ini-  ,  .         ,  .  •  i     r'    r 

plies  1,  actual  knowi-  ^^'^^  ^s,  that  consciousness  is  an  actual  :lnd  not 
edge.  a  })otential   knowledge.''      Thus  a   man   is   said 

to  know,  —  /.  <.  is  able  to  know,  that  7 -|- 9  are 
=  H),  though  that  equation  be  not,  at  the  nu)ment,  the  object  of 
his  thought  ;  V)ut  we  cannot  say  thai  he  is  conscious  of  this  truth 
uuiiss  while  actually  ])resent  to  his  mind. 

The  second  limitation  is.  tliat  consciousness  is  an  immediate,  not 
a  iiicdiati'  knowledge.  We  are  said,  for  exam- 
i)le,  to  know  a  past  occurrence  wlien  we  repre- 

edpe.  '  *,  ,  ,  ' 

sent  it  to  the  mind  in  an  act  of  memory.  >>  e 
know  the  mental   representation,  and  this  we  do  immediately  and 


1  Rather  in  the  Commeiitarv  on  the  .YiVom'j-  npoffoxJ?  5t  icrriKCL^'^v  irpoa-fxofiff  rois 
ry/cnn  RAjm,  usuall>  attributed  to  Enstratiiis,  tpyoii  oh  irpaTrotxfv  Ka\  rois  \6yots  oh 
p.  \W,  t>.     It  is  not  mentioned  in  tlie  Com-       \fyou(v. En. 

mentary  on  the  D'.  Memoria.  —  El>. 

2  [F'sellus,   !><•    Omtii/firiii    Dortrina,   ^    Hi:]  "  tonijiare  Ifeids  Coll.  Works,  p.  810  —ED 


140  METAPHYSICS.  LMct.  XL 

in  itself,  ami  are  also  said  to  know  the  past  occurrence,  as  medi- 
ately knoAving  it  through  the  mental  modification  which  represents 
it.  Now,  we  are  conscious  of  the  representation  as  immediately 
known,  but  we  cannot  be  said  to  be  conscious  of  the  thing  repre- 
sented, which,  if  known,  is  only  known  througli  its  representation. 
If,  therefore,  mediate  knowledge  be  in  propriety  a  knowledge,  con- 
sciousness is  not  coextensive  with  knowledge.  This  is,  however, 
a  problem  we  are  hereafter  specially  to  considei-.  I  may  here  also 
observe,  that,  wliile  all  philosophers  agree  in  making  consciousness 
an  immediate  knowledge,  some,  as  Reid  and  Stewart,  do  not  admit 
that  all  immedi:ite  knowledge  is  consciousness.  They  hold  that 
we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  external  objects,  but  they 
hold  that  these  objects  are  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness.^ 
This  is  an  opinion  we  are,  likewise,  soon  to  canvass. 

The  third  condition  of  consciousness,  which  may  be  held  as  uni- 
versally admitted,  is,  that  it  supposes  a  contrast, 
.  Contrast.    Di>-       — a  discrimination ;  for  We  can  be  conscious  onlv 

crimination  of  one  ob- 
ject from  another.  masmucli  as  Ave  are  conscious  of  something;  and 

we  are  conscious  of  something  only  inasmuch  as 
we  are  conscious  of  what  that  something  is, —  that  is,  distinguish  it 
from  what  it  is  not.  This  discrimination  is  of  different  kinds  and 
degrees. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  the  contrast  between  the  two  grand 

opposites,  self  and  not-self,  —  ego  and  non-ego, 

This  discrimination       _  ^jj^ j   .^j^^:^  matter ;    (the   contrast  of  subject 

of  various  kinds  and  ,       ,  .  .  ,  __...  . 

jg„i.ggg  and  object  is  more  general.)      He  are  conscious 

of  self  only  in  and  by  its  contradistinction  from 
not-self;  and  are  conscious  of  not-self  only  in  and  by  its  contra- 
distinction from  self  In  the  second  place,  there  is  the  discrimina- 
tion of  the  states  or  modifications  of  the  internal  subject  or  self 
from  each  other.  We  are  conscious  of  one  mental  state  only  as 
Ave  contradistinguish  it  from  another;  where  two,  three,  or  more 
such  states  are  confounded,  Ave  are  conscious  of  them  as  one ;  and 
were  Ave  to  note  no  diflTcrence  in  our  mental  modifications,  Ave 
might  be  said  to  be  absohxtely  unconscious.  Hobbes  lias  truly  said,. 
•'Idem  semper  sentire,  et  non  sentire,  ad  idem  recidunt."^  In  the 
third  place,  there  is  the  distinction  between  the  parts  and  qualities 
of  the  outer  AA'orld.  We  are  conscious  of  an  external  object  only 
as  Ave  are  conscious  of  it  as  distinct  from  others,  —  where  several 


1  See  Reid,  InteUeclual  Powers,  Essay  vi.  ch.  2  Elementa   PhUosopkifr,  partly.  C.  25,   »  5. 

5,  §  1,  5.     M'or^.s,  pp.  442,  445.    Stewart,  Om/-  Opfra,  ed.  Molesworth,  vol.  i.  p.  321.     English. 

lines  of  Moral  Philosophy,  parti.  §   1,  2;    Col-  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  394.  —  Ed. 
lected  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  12.  —  Ed. 


Lf.ct.  XI.  METAPHYSiCri.  Ml 

'listinguishable  objects  are  confounded,  .we  are  conscious  of  them 
as  one;  where  no  object  is  discriminated,  we  are  not  conscious  of 
any.  Before  leaving  this  condition,  I  may  ])arentlietically  state, 
that,  Avhile  all  philosophers  admit  that  consciousness  involves  a  dis- 
crimination, many  do  not  allow  it  any  cognizance  of  aught  beyond 
tlie  sphere  of  self  The  great  majority  of  philosophers  do  this  be- 
cause they  absolutely  deny  the  possibility  of  an  immediate  knowl- 
edge of  external  tilings,  and,  consequently,  hold  tliat  consciousness 
in  distinguishing  the  non-ego  from  the  ego,  only  distinguishes  self 
from  self;  for  tliey  maintain,  that  what  we  are  conscious  of  as 
something  ditferent  from  the  })erceiving  mind,  is  only,  in  reality, 
a  modification  of  that  mind,  which  we  ai'C  condemned  to  mistake 
for  the  material  reality.  Some  philosophers,  however,  (as  Reid 
and  Stewai-t,)  who  hold,  with  mankind  at  large,  that  Ave  do  possess 
an  imme<liate  knowledge  of  something  different  from- the  knowing 
self,  still  limit  consciousness  to  a  cognizance  of  self;  and,  Cv")nse- 
quently,  not  only  deprive  it  of  the  power  of  distinguishing  e.vternal 
objects  from  each  other,  but  even  of  the  power  of  discrinunaiing 
the  ego  and  non-ego.  Tliese  opinions  we  are  afterwards  to  consider 
With  tliis  qualification,  all  philosophers  may  be  viewed  as  admit 
ting  that  discrimination  is  an  essential  condition  of  consciousness. 
The  fourth  condition  of  consciousness,  which  mav  be  assumed 
as  very  generally  acknowledged,  is,  that  it  in- 

4.  Judgment.  i  .      t  i      •      ^  •         i 

A'olvcs  judgment.  A  judgment  is  the  mental 
net  by  which  one  thing  is  attirmed  or  denied  of  another.  This 
fourth  condition  is  in  truth  only  a  necessary  consequence  of  the 
third,  —  for  it  is  impossible  to  discritninate  without  judging,  —  dis- 
crimination, or  contradistinction,  being  in  fact  only  the  denying 
one  thing  of  another.  It  mav  to  some  seem  strange  that  con- 
sc-iousness,  the  simple  and  ])rimary  act  of  intelligence,  should  be 
a  judgment,  —  which  philosophers,  in  general,  have  viewed  as  a 
compound  and  derivative  operation.  This  is,  however,  altogetlier 
a  mistake.  A  judgment  is,  as  I  shall  liereafler  show  you,  a  simple 
act  of  mind,  for  every  act  of  mind  implies  a  judgment.  Do  we 
perceive  or  imagiiu'  without  atfinning,  in  the  act,  the  external  or 
internal  existence  of  tlie  object?^  Now  these  fundamental  affirma- 
tions are  the  affirmations,  —  in  other  words,  the  judgments,  of  con- 
sciousness. 

The  filth  undeniable  coii<lition  of  consciousness  is  memory.     This 

condition  also  is  a  corollary  of  the  third.     For 

5.  Memory.  i  i  i 

Without  memory  our  mental  states  couia  not  be 
lield  fast,  compared,  distinguished  from  each  other,  and  referred  to 

1  See  Keid's  Works,  pp.  243,  414,  with  the  Editor's  Notes.  —  K». 


142  ( 


METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XL' 


self.  "Without  memory,  ea«h  indivisible,  each  infinitesimal,  moment 
in  the  mental  succession,  would  stand  isolated  from  every  other,  — 
would  constitute,  in  fact,  a  sej^arate  existence.  The  notion  of  the 
ego  or  self,  arises  from  the  recognized  permanence  and  identity  of 
the  thinking  subject  in  contrast  to  the  recognized  succession  and 
variety  of  its  modifications.  But  this  recognition  is  possible  only 
through  memory.  The  notion  of  self  is,  therefore,  the  result  of 
memory.  But  the  notion  of  self  is  involved  in  consciousness,  so 
consequently  is  memory. 


LECTURE    XII. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,  — ITS   SPECIAL    CONDITIONS:    RELATION    TO 
COGNITIVE    FACULTIES    IN    GENERAL. 

So  far  as  we  have  proceeded,  our  determination  of  the  contents 

of  consciousness  may  be  viewed  as  tliat  universally  admitted ;  for 

though   I  could    quote  to  you  certain  counter- 
Recapitulation.  .  r.         1    • 

doctrines,  these  are  not  oi  such  importance  as  to 

warrant  me  in  perplexing  the  discussion  by  their  refutation,  whicli 
would  indeed  be  nothing  more  than  the  exposition  of  very  ])al])uble 
mistakes.  Let  us,  therefore,  sum  up  the  points  we  have  established. 
We  have  shown,  in  general,  that  consciousness  is  the  self-recogni- 
tion that  we  know,  or  feel,  or  desire,  etc.  We  have  shown,  in  par- 
ticular, 1°,  That  consciousness  is  an  actual  or  living,  and  not  a 
potential  or  dormant,  knowledge  ;  —  2°,  That  it  is  an  immetliate  and 
not  a  mediate  knowledge;  —  3°,  That  it  supposes  a  discrimination; 
—  4%  That  it  involves  a  judgment ;  —  and,  5°,  That  it  is  possible 
only  through  memory. 

We  are  now  about  to  enter  on  a  more  disputed  territory ;  and 
the  first  thesis  I  shall  attempt  to  establish,  in- 

1 1.  Sjieciai  condi-       yolves  sevcral  Subordinate  questions. 

tionp  of  consciousness  t,..x^i  iii^x  ^      j.     i 

,,       ,    .,  1    state,  tlien,  as  tlie  nrst   contested  position 

not    generally   admit-  '  '  i 

,^.,^  which  I  am  to  maintain,  that  our  consciousness 

is  coextensive   with   our  knowledge.     But    this 
assertion,  that  we  have  no  knowledge  of  whicli  we  are  not  con- 
scious, is  tantamount    to  the  other  that  consciousness  is   coexten- 
sive   with    our    cognitive    faculties,  —  and    this 
1.   onr  conscious-       .^     j^^    -^    couvertiWc    with    the    assertion,   that 

ness  coextensive  with  ^  .  ,  /.  i 

our  knowledge.  consciousuess  18  not  a  special  faculty,  but  that 

our  special  ficulties  of  knowledge  are  only 
modifications  of  consciousness.  The  question,  therefore,  may  be 
thus  stated,  —  Is  consciousness  the  genus  un<ler  which  our  several 
faculties  of  knowledge  are  contained  as  species,  —  or,  is  consci- 
ousness itself  a  special  faculty  coordinate  with,  and  not  compre- 
hending, tliese  ? 


144  Ml-TAl'llYSrCS.  Lect.  XJL 

Before  proceeding  to  canvass  the  reasonings  of  those  who  have 
reduced  consciousness  from  tlie  general  condi- 

Error  of  Dr. Brown.  .  .  ^ 

tion,  to  a  particular   variety,  of  knowledge,  I 
may  notice  the  error  of  Dr.  Brown,  in  asserting  that,  "  in  the  sys- 
tems of  ])hilosophy  which  have   been   most   generally   prevalent, 
especially  in  this  part  of  the  island,  consciousness  has  always  been 
classed  as  one  of  the  intellectual  powers  of  the  mind,  differing  from 
its  other  powers,  as  these  mutually  differ  from  each  other."  ^     This 
statement,  in  so  far  as  it  regards  the  opinion  of  philosophers  in 
general,  is  not  only  not  true,  but  the  very  reverse  of  truth.     For,  in 
place  of  consciousness  being,  "  in  the  systems  most  generally  pre- 
valent," classed  as  a  special  faculty,  it  has,  in  all  the  greater  schools 
of  philosophy,  been  A'icM^ed  as  the  universal  attribute  of  the  intel- 
lectual acts.     Was  consciousness  degraded  to  a  special  faculty  in 
the  Platonic,  in  the  Aristotelian,  in  the  Cartesian,  in  the  Lockian,  in 
the  Leibnitzian,  in  the  Kantiai*  philosophies?     These  are  the  sys- 
tems  which   have    obtained   a   more   general   authority  than    any 
others,  and  yet  in  none  of  these  is  the  supremacy  of  consciousness 
denied  ;  in  all  of  them  it  is  either  expressly  or  implicitly  recognized. 
Dr.  Bi-own's  assertion  is  so  fir  true  in  relation  to  this  country,  that 
by  Hutcheson,   Reid,  and    Stewart, — to   say  nothing  of  inferior 
names,  —  consciousness  has  been  considered  as  nothino;  his/her  than 
a  special  faculty.     As  I  regard  this  opinion  to  be  erroneous,  and  as 
the  error  is  one  affecting  the  very  cardinal  point  of  piiilosophy,  — 
as  it  stands  opposed  to  the  peculiar  and  most  important  principles 
of  the  philoso})hy  of  Reid  and  Stewart  themselves,  anct  has  even 
contributed   to   throw  around  their  doctrine  of  percej)tion  an  ob- 
scurity that   has    caused  Dr.    Brown  absolutely  to  mistake  it    for 
its  converse,  and  as  I  have  never  met  with  any  competent  refutation 
of  the  grounds  on  which  it  rests,  —  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  you 
that,   notwithstanding  the   high   authority  of  its  sup})orters,   thi» 
opinion  is  altogether  untenable. 

As  I  ])reviously  stated  to  you,  neither  Dr.  Reid  nor  Mr,  Stewart 
has  given  us  any  regular  account  of  conscious- 

Reid  and  Stewart  on  '"  ^.i.    •        i       /•      ^  ^i  •  ^  •      ^     •       ^       i 

ness:  their   doctrine    on  tins  subiect   is   to   be 

consciousness.  '  _  ^  ^ 

found  scattered  in  different  ])arts  of  their  works. 

The  two  following  brief  passages  of  Reid  contain  the  principal  posi- 
tions of  that  doctrine.  The  first  is  from  the  first  chapter  of  the 
first  Essay  On  the  Intellectual  Poicers  :'-  "  Consciousness  is  a  word 
used  by  philosophers  to  signify  that  immediate  knowledge  which  we 
have  of  our  present  thoughts  and  purj^oses,  and,  in  general,  of  all 

■*  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  lecture  xi.  vol.  i.  p.  225,  2d  edit.  —  Ed.        2  Works,  p.  222- 


Lkct.  XII.  METAPHYSICS.  1-io 

the  present  operations  of  our  minds.  Wlience  we  inay  observe  that 
consciousness  is  only  of  things  present.  To  aj>ply  consciousness  to 
things  past,  which  sometimes  is  done  in  popular  discourse,  is  to  con- 
found consciousness  with  memory ;  and  all  such  confusion  of  words 
ought  to  be  avoided  in  philosophical  discourse.  It  is  likewise  to  be 
observed,  that  consciousness  is  only  of  things  in  the  mind,  and  not 
of  external  things.  It  is  improper  to  say,  I  am  conscious  of  the 
table  which  is  before  me.  I  perceive  it,  I  see  it ;  but  do  not  say  I 
am  conscious  of  it.  As  that  consciousness  by  which  we  have  a 
kiK>wiedge  of  the  operations  of  our  own  minds,  is  a  different  powei* 
from  that  by  which  we  perceive  external  objects,  and  as  these  dif- 
ferent ])Owers  have  different  names  in  our  language,  and,  I  believe, 
in  all  languages,  a  philosopher  ought  carefully  to  preserve  this  dis- 
tinction, and  never  to  confound  things  so  different  in  their  nature." 
The  second  is  from  the  fifth  chapter  of  the  sixth  Essay  On  the  In- 
tellectual Poicers}  "  Consciousness  is  an  operation  of  the  under- 
standing of  its  own  kind,  and  cannot  be  logically  defined.  The  ob- 
jects of  it  are  our  present  pains,  our  pleasures,  our  ho])es,  our  fears, 
our  desires,  our  doubts,  our  thoughts  of  every  kind  ;  in  a  word,  all 
the  passions  and  all  the  actions  and  operations  of  our  own  minds, 
while  they  are  present.  We  may  remember  them  when  they  are 
past ;  but  we  are  conscious  of  them  only  while  they  are  present." 
Besides  what  is  thus  said  in  general  of  consciousness,  in  his  treat- 
ment of  the  different  special  faculties,  Eeid  contrasts  consciousness 
with  each.  Thus  in  his  essays  on  Perce})tion,  on  Concejition  or 
Imagination,  and  on  Memory,  he  specially  contradistinguishes  con- 
sciousness fi-om  each  of  these  operations  ;  -  and  it  is  also  incident- 
iilly  by  Keid,"^  but  more  articulately  by  Stewart,*  discriminated 
from  Attention  and  Reflection. 

According  to  the  doctrine  of  these  philosophers,  consciousness  is 
thus  a  special  fiiculty,  cooi'dinate  Avith  the  other 

Consciousness  a  stie-         itiiti  i        •  i-i         .i 

.  ,,     ,^  ,.  nitelk'ctual    iwwers,  having    like    them  a    ]>ar- 

cial  faculty,  according  .  . 

to  Keid  and  stpwurt  ticular    operation    and   a   peculiar  object.     And 

what  is  the  ])cculiar  object  which  is  proposed  to 
consciousness?''  The  peculiar  objects  of  consciousness,  says  Dr, 
Reid,  .lie  all  the  present  passions  and  oj)erations  of  our  minds. 
Consciousness  thus  has  for  its  objects,  among  the  other  modifica- 


J  Works,  p.  442.  3  See  Works,  p  239.    Compare  pp.  240,  258 

347,419-20.  443. —Ed. 

2  See  Intfllectnal  Powers,  Essay    ii.  Works,  p.  4   CoU.  Works,  vol   ii.  p.  134,  and  pp.  122,  12a 

297,   and    Iway    i.    Works,   p.   222;  E.<say    iii.  —Ed. 

Works,  i)p.  ."MO.  351;  Essay  iv.  Works,  p.  308.  5  See  the  sanii-  argument  in  the  Author's 

■ — Ed  Discussiorts,  p.  47.  —  Ed. 

19 


146  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XIL 

tions  of  the  mind,  the  acts  of  our  cognitive  faculties.  Now  here  a 
doubt  arises.  If  consciousness  has  for  its  object  the  cognitive  opera- 
tions, it  must  know  these  operations,  and,  us  it  knows  these  opera- 
tions, it  must  know  their  objects  :  consequently,  consciousness  is 
either  not  a  special  faculty,  but  a  faculty  comprehentling  extn-y  cog- 
nitive act ;  or  it  must  be  held  that  there  is  a  double  knowledire  of 
every  object,  —  first,  the  knowledge  of  that  object  by  its  particular 
faculty,  and  second,  a  knowledge  of  it  by  consciousness  as  taking 
cognizance  of  every  mental  operation.  But  the  former  of  these 
alternatives  is  a  surrender  of  consciousness  as  a  cooi'dinate  and  spe- 
cial faculty,  and  the  latter  is  a  supposition  not  only  un])hilosophical 
but  absurd.  Now,  you  will  attend  to  the  mode  in  which  Reid 
escapes,  or  endeavors  to  escape,  from  this  dilemma.  This  he  does 
by  assigning  to  consciousness,  as  its  object,  the  various  intellectual 
operations  to  the  exclusion  of  their  several  objects.  "I  am  con- 
scious," he  says,  "  of  perception,  but  not  of  the  object  I  ])erceive  ; 
I  am  conscious  of  memory,  but  not  of  the  object  I  remember."  By 
this  limitation,  if  tenable,  he  certainly  escapes  the  dilemma,  for  he 
would  thus  disprove  the  truth  of  the  principle  on  which  it  proceeds 
—  viz.,  that  to  be  conscious  of  the  operation  of  a  faculty,  is,  in  fact, 

to  be  conscious  of  the  object  of  that  ojteration. 
Reid's  limitation  of        rj.^^  ^^.j^^j^   question,  therefore,  turns  uj.on  the 

the  sphere  of  consci-  n  t 

ousness  untenable.  P^ooi   ov  disproof  of  this   principle,  —  for  if  it 

can  be  shown  that  the  knowledge  of  an  opera- 
tion necessarily  involves  the  knoAvledge  of  its  object,  it  follows  that 
it  is  impossible  to  make  consciousness  conversant  about  the  in- 
tellectual operations  to  the  exclusion  of  their  objects.  And  that 
this  principle  must  be  admitted,  is  what,  I  hope,  it  will  require  1)ut 
little  aroument  to  demonstrate. 

Some    things    can    be    conceived    by    the    mind    each    separate 

and    alone;     others    only   in    connection    with 

No  consciousness  of       something    else.     The    former   are    said  to    be 

a  cognitive  act,  wit  -       thi^gg  absolute;   the  latter,  to  be  thinjjs  rela- 

out  a  consciousness  of  .       ^  ^  '  » 

its  object.  five.     Socrates,  and  Xanthippe,  may  be   given 

as  examples  of  the  former;  husband  and  wife, 
of  the  latter.  Socrates,  and  Xanthippe,  can  each  be  represented 
to  the  mind  without  the  other ;  and  if  they  are  associated  in 
thought,  it  is  only  by  an  accidental  connection.  Husband  and 
wife,  on  the  contrary,  cannot  be  conceived  apart.  As  relative 
and  correlative,  the  conception  of  husband  involves  the  concep- 
tion of  wife,  and  the  conception  of  wife  involves  the  conception 
of  husband.  Each  is  thought  only  in  and  through  the  other,  and 
it  is  impossible   to   think   of  Socrates    as   the   husband   of  Xan- 


Lfxt.  Xn.  METAPHYSICS.  147 

thippc,  without  thinking  of  Xanthippe  as  the  wife  of  Socrates. 
"We  cannot,  tlierefore,  know  what  a  husband  is  without  also 
knowing  what  is  a  wife,  as,  on  tlie  other  hand,  we  cannot  know 
what  a  wife  is  without  also  knowing  what  is  a  husband.  You 
will,  therefore,  understand  from  this  example  the  meaning  of  the 
logical  axiom,  that  the  knowledge  of  relatives  is  one,  —  or  that 
the  knowledge  of  relatives  is  the  same. 

This  bein<>-  premised,  it  is  evident  that  if  our  intellectual  oper- 
ations exist  only  in  relation,  it  must  be  impossible  that  consci- 
ousness can  take  cognizance  of  one  term  of  this  relation  Avithout 
also  taking  cognizance  of  the  other.  Knowledge,  in  general,  is  a 
relation  between  a  subject  knowing  and  an  object  known,  and  each 
operation  of  our  cognitive  faculties  only  exists  by  relation  to  a  par- 
ticular object,  —  this  object  at  once  calling  it  into  existence,  and 
specifying  the  quality  of  its  existence.  It  is,  therefore,  palpably 
impossible  that  we  can  be  conscious  of  an  act  without  being  con- 
scious of  the  object  to  which  that  act  is  relative.  This,  however, 
is  what  Dr.  Reid  and  Mr.  Stewart  maintain.  They  maintain  that 
I  can  know  that  I  know,  without  knowing  what  I  know,  —  or 
that  I  can  know  the  knowledge  without  knowing  what  the  knowl- 
edge is  about ;  for  example,  that  I  am  conscious  of  perceiving  a 
book  without  being  conscious  of  the  book  perceived,  —  that  I  am 
conscious  of  remembering  its  contents  without  being  conscious 
of  these  contents  remembered,  —  and  so  forth.     The  unsoundness 

of  this  opinion  must,  however,  be    articulately 
Shown  in  detail  with       ^]^oy^^n  bv  taking  the    ditterent  ficulties  in  de- 

rnspect  totlie  diircrent  .,         ,  .*,        ,  ,  t      ■  •   i      i  i- 

cugnitive  faculties.  ^ad,  which  they  have  contradistinguished  from 

consciousness,  and  by  showing,  in  regard  to 
each,  that  it  is  altogether  impossible  to  propose  the  operation  of 
that  faculty  to  the  consideration  of  consciousness,  and  to  withhold 
from  consciousness  its  object. 

T    shall    commence   with    the    faculty  of  Imagination,  to  which 
Dr.  Reid  and  Mr.  Stewart  have  chosen,  under 

Ima^inntion.  .  ,.      .        .  .  ,  /•  ^. 

various  limitations,  to  give  the  name  ot  Concejw 
tion. '  This  facultv  is  peculiarlv  suited  to  evince  the  error  of  hold' 
ing  that  consciousness  is  cognizant  of  acts,  but  not  of  the  objects  of 
these  acts. 

"Conceiving,  Imagining,  and  Apprehending,''  says  Dr.  Reid, 
"are  commonly  use<l  as  synonymous  in  our  language,  an<l  signify 
the  same  thing  which  the  logicians  call  Sim])lc  A])j>reliension.  This 
is  an  operation  of  the  mind  difterent  from  ail  those  we  have  men- 

1  Reid,  Intellectual  Powers,  Kssay   iv.  ch.  1  ;   World,  p.  360,  Stewart,  Elements,  vol.  i   oh.  f 
Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  145.  —  Ed. 


148  METAPHYSICS  Lkct.   XII. 

tioned  [Perception,  Memory,  etc.]  Whatever  we  perceive,  what- 
ever we  remember,  whatever  we  are  conscious  of,  we  have  a  full 
persuasion  or  conviction  of  its  existence.  What  never  had  an 
existence  cannot  be  remembered ;  what  has  no  existence  at  j^re- 
.sent  cannot  be  the  object  of  perception  or  of  consciousness;  but 
wliat  never  had,  nor  has  any  existence,  may  be  conceived,  livery 
man  knows  that  it  is  as  easy  to  conceive  a  winged  horse  or  a  cen- 
taur, as  it  is  to  conceive  a  horse  or  a  man.  Let  it  be  observea, 
therefore,  that  to  conceive,  to  imagine,  to  apprehend,  when  taket> 
in  the  proper  sense,  signify  an  act  of  the  mind  which  implies  no  be- 
lief or  judgment  at  alL  It  is  an  act  of  the  mind  by  which  nothing 
is  affirmed  or  denied,  and  which  therefore  can  neither  be  true  nor 
false."  ^  And  again :  "  Consciousness  is  employed  solely  aboux 
objects  that  do  exist,  or  have  existed.  But  conception  is  often 
employed  about  olrjects  that  neither  do,  nor  did,  nor  wili, 
exist.  This  is  the  very  nature  of  this  faculty,  that  its  object^ 
though  distinctly  conceived,  may  have  no  existence.  Such  an 
object  we  call  a  creature  of  imagination,  but  this'  creature  nevet 
Avas  created. 

"  That  we  may  not  impose  upon  oui'selves  in  this  matter,  wt 
must  distinguish  between  that  act  or  operation  of  the  mind, 
which  we  call  conceiving  an  object,  and  the  object  which  we 
conceive.  When  we  conceive  anything,  there  is  a  real  act  or  oper- 
ation of  the  mind ;  of  this  we  are  conscious,  and  can  have  no  doubt 
of  its  existence.  But  every  such  act  must  have  an  object;  for  he 
that  conceives  must  conceive  something.  Supjiose  he  conceives  a 
centaur,  he  may  have  a  distinct  conception  of  this  object,  though  no 
centaur  ever  existed."  -  And  again  :  "  I  conceive  a  centaur.  This 
conception  is  an  operation  of  the  mind  of  which  I  am  conscious, 
and  to  which  I  can  attend.  The  sole  object  of  it  is  a  centaur,  an 
animal  which,  I  believe,  never  existed."  ^ 

Now,  here  it  is  admitted  by  Reid,  that  imagination  has  an  object, 
and,  in  the  example  adduced,  that  this  object  has  no  existence  out 
of  the  mind.  The  object  of  imagination  is,  therefore,  in  the  mind, 
—  is  a  modification  of  the  mind.  Now,  can  it  be  maintained  that 
there  can  be  a  modification  of  mind,  —  a  modification  of  which 
we  are  aware,  but  of  which  we  are  not  conscious?  But  let  us 
regard  the  matter  in  another  aspect.  We  are  conscious,  says 
Dr.  Reid,  of  the  imagination  of  a  centaur,  but  not  of  the  centaur 
imagined.  Now,  nothing  can  be  more  evident  than  that  the  ob- 
ject and  the  act  of  imagination,  are  identical.  Thus,  in  the  ex- 
ample alleged,  the  centaur  imagined  and  the  act  of  imagining  it, 

1   Works,  I,.  ■223.  2  IVor/ti,  p.386.  3  Works,  p.  SIS. 


Lect.  XIL  METAPHYSICS.  149 

are  one  and  indivisible.  What  is  the  act  of  imagining  a  centaur 
but  the  centaur  imaged,  or  the  image  of  the  centaur;  what  is 
the  image  of  the  centaur  but  the  act  of  imagining  it?  The  cen- 
taur is  both  the  object  and  the  act  of  imagination  :  it  is  tlie  same 
thing  viewed  in  difterent  rehitions.  It  is  called  the  object  of  imagi- 
nation, when  considered  tis  representing  a  possible  existence,  —  for 
everything  that  can  be  construed  to  the  mind,  everything  tlmt  does 
not  violate  the  laws  of  thought,  in  other  words,  everything  that 
does  not  involve  a  contradiction,  may  be  conceived  by  the  mind  as 
possible.  I  say,  therefore,  that  the  centaur  is  called  the  object  of 
imagination,  Avhen  considered  as  representing  a  possible  existence ; 
whereas  the  centaur  is  called  the  act  of  imagination,  when  con- 
sidered as  the  creation,  work,  or  operation,  of  the  mind  itself  The 
centaur  imagined  and  the  imagination  of  the  centaur,  are  thus  as 
much  the  same  indivisible  modification  of  mind  as  a  square  is  the 
same  figure,  whether  we  consider  it  as  composed  of  four  sides,  or 
as  composed  of  four  angles,  —  or  as  jiaternity  is  the  same  relation 
whether  we  look  fi-om  the  son  to  the  father,  or  from  the  fit  her  to 
the  son.  We  cannot,  therefore,  be  conscious  of  imagining  an  object 
without  being  conscious  of  the  object  imagined,  and  as  regards 
imagination,  Reid's  limitation  of  consciousness  is,  therefore,  futile. 
I  proceed  next  to  Memory  :  —  "It  is  by  Memory,"  says  Dr.  Rcid, 
"  that   we   have    an    inmiediate    knowledge    of 

Memory.       '  ,  .  _,,  .  •    x-       ""    ^• 

thmgs  past.  1  he  senses  give  us  niturmation 
of  things  only  as  they  exist  in  the  present  moment ;  and  this  infor- 
mation, if  it  were  not  preserved  by  memory,  would  vanish  instantly, 
an<l  leave  us  as  ignorant  at  if  it  had  never  been.  iSIemory  must 
have  an  object.  Every  man  who  remembers  must  remember  some- 
thing, and  that  which  he  remembers  is  called  the  object  of  his 
remembrance.  In  this,  memory  agrees  with  perception,  but  differs 
from  sensation,  which  has  no  object  but  the  feeling  itself  Every 
man  can  distinguish  the  thing  remembered  from  the  remembrance 
of  it.  We  may  remember  anything  which  we  have  seen,  or  heard, 
or  known,  or  done,  or  suffered  ;  but  the  remembrance  of  it  is  a  par- 
ticular act  of  the  mintl  which  now  exists,  and  of  which  we  ai-e  con- 
scious. To  confound  these  two  is  an  absurdity  which  a  thinking 
man  could  not  be  led  into,  but  by  some  false  hy])othesis  which 
hinders  liim  from  reflecting  upon  the  thing  which  he  would  explain 
by  it." '  "  The  object  of  memory,  or  thing  remembered,  must  be 
something  that  is  past;  as  the  object  of  perception  and  of  consci- 
ousness, must  be  something  which  is  ])resent.  What  now  is,  cannot 
be  an  object  of  memory;  neither  can  that  which  is  past  and  gout- 

I   Works,  p.  339. 


loO  METAPHYSICS.  Li-XT.  XiL 

be  an  object  of  perception,  or  of  consciousness."'  To  these  pas- 
sages, wliich  are  taken  from  the  first  chapter  of  the  third  Essay  On 
the  Intellectual  Poioers,  I  must  add  anotlier  from  the  sixth  chapter 
of  the  same  Essay,  —  the  chapter  in  which  he  criticises  Locke's 
doctrine  in  regai-d  to  our  Personal  Identity.  "  Leaving,"  he  says, 
"  the  consequences  of  this  doctrine  to  those  who  have  leisure  to 
trace  them,  we  may  observe,  with  regard  to  the  doctrine  itself,  first, 
that  Mr.  Locke  attributes  to  consciousness  the  conviction  wa  have 
of  our  past  actions,  as  if  a  man  may  now  be  conscious  of  what 
he  did  twenty  years  ago.  It  is  impossible  to  understand  the  mean- 
ing of  this,  unless  by  consciousness  be  meant  memory,  the  only  fac- 
ulty by  which  we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  our  past  actions. 
Sometimes,  in  popular  discourse,  a  man  says  he  is  conscious  that  he 
did  such  a  thing,  meaning  that  he  distinctly  remembers  tliat  he  did 
it.  It  is  unnecessary,  in  common  discourse,  to  fix  accurately  the 
limits  betM^een  consciousness  and  memory.  This  was  formerly 
shown  to  be  the  case  with  regard  to  sense  and  memory.  And, 
therefore,  distinct  remembrnnce  is  sometimes  called  sense,  some- 
times consciousness,  without  any  inconvenience.  But  this  ought  to 
be  avoided  in  philosophy,  otherwise  we  confound  the  different 
powers  of  the  mind,  and  ascribe  to  one  what  really  belongs  to 
nnother.  If  a  man  be  conscious  of  what  he  did  twenty  years  or 
twenty  minutes  ago,  there  is  no  use  for  memory,  nor  ought  we 
to  allow  that  there  is  any  such  faculty.  The  fnculties  of  conscious- 
ness and  memory  are  chietiy  distinguished  by  this,  that  the  first  is 
an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  present,  the  second  an  immediate 
knowledge  of  the  past."  - 

From  these  quotations  it  appears  that  Reid  distinguishes  memory 
from  consciousness  in  this,  —  that  memory  is  an  immediate  knowl- 
edge of  the  past,  consciousness  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the 
present.  We  may,  therefoi-e,  be  conscious  of  the  act  of  memory  as 
present,  but  of  the  object  of  memory  as  past,  consciousness  is  im- 
possible. Now,  if  memory  and  consciousness  be,  as  Reid  asserts, 
the  one  an  immediate  kjiowledge  of  the  past,  the  other  an  immediate 
knowledge  of  tlie  present,  it  is  evident  that  memory  is  a  faculty 
whose  object  lies  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness  ;  and,  conse- 
quently, that  consciousness  cannot  be  regarded  as  the  general  con- 
dition of  every  intellectual  act.  We  have  only,  therefore,  to  exam- 
ine whether  this  attribution  of  repugnant  qualities  to  consciousness 
and  memory  be  correct,  —  whether  there  be  not  ;issigned  to  one  or 
other  a  function  which  does  not  really  belong  to  it. 

Now,  in  regard  to  what  Dr.  Reid  says  of  consciousness,  I  admit 

I  Works,  p.  SiO.  avrorfcsp.  351. 


Lkct.  XIL  METAPHYSICS.  151 

that  no  exception  can  l>e  taken.  Consciousness  is  an  immediate 
knowledsje  of  the  present.  We  have,  indeed,  already  sliown  tliat 
consciousness  is  an  iuiniediate  knowled2:e,  and,  therefore,  only  of  the 
actual  or  now-existent.  This  being  admitted,  and  professing,  as  we 
do,  to  prove  that  consciousness  is  tlie  one  generic  faculty  of  knowl- 
edge, we,  consequently,  must  naaintaiu  that  all  knowledge  is  imme- 
diate, and  only  of  the  actual  or  present,  —  in  other  words,  that  what 
is  called  mediate  knowledge,  knowledge  of  the  past,  knowledge  of 
the  absent,  knowledge  of  the  non-actual  or  possible,  is  either  no 
knowledge  at  all,  or  only  a  knowledge  contained  in,  and  evolved 
out  of,  an  innnediate  knowledge  of  what  is  now  existent  and  aelually 
present  to  the  mind.  This,  at  first  sight,  may  appear  like  paradox  ; 
I  trust  you  will  soon  admit  that  the  counter  doctrine  is  self-repug- 
nant. 

I  proceed,  therefore,  to  saow  that  Dr.  Reid's  assertion  of  memory 
being  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  past,  is 

Memory  i.ot  an  in.-  ^^^^^    ^^^^^.  ^-.jj^g^  |^^^^  ^^^^^  J^   iuvolves   a  COUtradic- 

mediafe  kiiowli'djie  of  .         .      *  , 

.,         .  tion  in  terms.' 

tlie  past. 

Let  US  first  determine  what  immediate  knowl- 
edge is,  and  then  see  whether  the  knowledge  we  have  of  the  past, 

through  memoiy,  can  come  under  the  conditions 
(•onuitionsofimme-       ^^  immediate  knowledge.     Now  nothing  can  be 

(liate  knowk'dge.  i       V-  n         • 

more  evident  than  the  following  positions  :  1  , 
An  object  to  be  known  immediately  must  be  known  in  itself,  —  that 
is,  in  those  modifications,  <pialities,  or  pluenomena,  tlirough  which  it 
manifests  its  existence,  and  not  in  those  of  something  difterent  from 
itself;  for,  if  we  suppose  it  known  not  in  itself,  but  in  some  other 
thing,  then  this  other  thing  is  what  is  immediately  known,  and  the 
object  known  through  it  is  only  an  object  mediately  known. 

But  2°,  If  a  thinu'  can  be  immediatelv  known  only  if  known  in 
itself,  it  is  manifest  that  it  can  only  be  known  in  itself,  if  it  be  itself 
actually  in  existence,  and  actually  in  immediate  relation  to  our 
faculties  of  knowledge. 

Such  are  the  necessary  conditions  of  immediate  knowledge  ;  ami 
they  disi»rove  at  once  Dr.  UeitTs  assertion,  that  memory  is  an  imme- 
diate knowledge  of  the  ]»ast.  An  immediate  knowledge  is  only  con- 
ceivable of  the  now  existent,  as  the  now  exi.stent  alone  can  be 
known  in  itself,  lint  the  past  is  only  ])ast,  inasmuch  as  it  is  not 
now  existent  ;  and  as  it  is  not  now  existent,  it  cannot  be  known  in 
itself     The  immediate  knowledge  of  the  past  is,  therefore,  impossible. 

We  have,  hitherto,  l>een  eonsidoring  the  con<litions  of  immediaU' 

1  Compare  Discuiuiinn.t,  p  .M.i.  — Ed. 


152  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  -Xil. 

knowledge;  in  relation  to  the  object ;  let  ns  noAv  consider  them  in 
relation  to  the  cognitive  act.  Every  act,  and  consequently  every  act 
(»f  knowledge,  exists  only  as  it  now  exists;  and  as  it  exists  only  in 
the  now^  it  can  be  cognizant  only  of  a  now-existent  object.  Mem- 
ory is  an  act,  —  an  act  of  knoAvledge;  it  can,  therefore,  be  cognizant 
only  of  a  now-existent  object.     But  the  object  known  in  memory  is,. 

exhypothesi,  past;  consequently,  we  are  reduced 
Application  of  these       ^^  ^\^q  dilemma,  either  of  refusing  a  ])ast  object 

conditions       to       the  .      i        i  •  j.      ^^  c       ^      -j^j^- 

to  be  known  in  memory  at  all,  or  oi  aamittnisr 

knowledge    we    have         _  .  . 

in  Memory  it  to  be  only  mediately  known,  in  and  through 

a  present  object.  That  the  latter  alternative  is 
the  true,  it  will  require  a  very  few  explanatory  words  to  convince 
vou.  What  are  the  contents  of  an  act  of  memorv?  An  act  of 
memory  is  merely  a  present  state  of  mind,  which  we  are  conscious 
of,  not  as  absolute,  but  as  relative  to,  and  representing,  another  state 
of  mind,  and  accompanied  with  the  belief  that  the  state  of  mind,, 
as  now  represented,  has  actually  been.  I  remember  an  CA'ent  I  saw, 
—  the  landing  of  George  IV.  at  Leith.  This  remembrance  is  only 
a  consciousness  of  certain  imaginations,  involving  the  conviction 
that  these  imaginations  now  represent  ideally  what  I  formerly  really 
experienced.  All  that  is  immediately  known  in  the  act  of  memory, 
is  the  present  mental  modification  ;  that  is,  the  representation  and 
concomitant  belief  Beyond  this  mental  modification,  Ave  know 
nothing ;  and  this  mental  modification  is  not  only  knoAvn  to  con- 
sciousness, but  only  exists  in  and  by  consciousness.  Of  any  past 
object,  real  or  ideal,  the  mind  knows  and  can  know  nothing,  for  ex 
hypotheiii,  no  such  object  noAV  exists  ;  or  if  it  be  said  to  know  such 
an  object,  it  can  only  be  said  to  know  it  mediately,  as  represented  in 
the  present  mental  modification.  Pr()|)ci-ly  speaking,  however,  we 
know  only  the  actual  and  present,  and  all  real  knoMdedge  is  an  im- 
mediate knowledge.  What  is  said  to  be  mediately  known,  is,  in 
truth,  not  known  to  be,  but  only  believed  to  be  ;  for  its  existence  is 
onlv  an  inference  resting:  on  the  belief,  that  the  mental  modification 
truly  re))i"esents  what  is  in  itself  beyond  the  sphere  of  knowledge. 
What  is  immediately  known  must  be ;  for  what  is  immediately 
known  is  supposed  to  be  knoAvn  as  existing.  The  denial  of  the 
existence,  and  of  the  existence  within  the  sphere  of  consciousness, 
involves,  therefore,  a  denial  of  the  immediate  knowledge  of  an  object. 
We  may,  accordingly,  doubt  the  reality  of  any  object  of  mediate 
knowledge,  without  denying  the  reality  of  the  immediate  knowledge 
on  which  the  mediate  knowledge  rests.  In  memory,  for  instance, 
we  cannot  deny  the  existence  of  the  ])resent  representation  and 
belief,  for  their  existence  is  the  consciottsness  of  their  existence  itselfl 


Lect.  XIL  metaphysics.  153 

To  doubt  tlieir  existence,  therefore,  is  for  us  to  doubt  the  existence 
of  our  consciousness.  But  as  this  doubt  itself  exists  only  tlirough 
consciousness,  it  would,  consecjuently,  annihilate  itself.  But,  tliough 
in  memory  we  inust  admit  the  reality  of  the  representation  and 
belief,  as  facts  of  consciousness,  we  may  doubt,  we  may  deny,  that 
the  representation  and  belief  are  true.  We  may  assert  that  they 
represent  what  never  was,  and  that  all  beyond  (heir  present  mental 
«^.xistence  is  a  delusion.  This,  however,  could  not  be  the  case  if  our 
knowledge  of  the  past  were  immediate.  So  far,  tlierefore,  is  mem- 
ory from  being  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the  jiast,  that  it  is  at  best 
only  a  mediate  knowk'dge  of  the  past;  wliile,  in  pliilosophical  pro- 
priety, it  is  not  a  knowledge  of  the  past  at  all,  but  a  knowedge  of 
the  present  and  a  belief  of  the  past.  But  in  whatever  terms  we 
may  choose  to  designate  the  contents  of  memory,  it  is  manifest  tha* 
these  contents  are  all  within  the  sphere  of  consciousness.'^ 

1  What  I  have  said  in  legaid  to  Dr.  Ttcid's  diatc  object  of  this  conception  is  fou"-  hun- 

docfrine  of  memory  as  an  immediate  knowl-  died  miles  distant ;  and  I  liave  no  reason  to 

edi;e  of  tlic  past,  applies  e(|iiall.v  to  his  doc-  think  that  it  acts  upon  me,  or  that  1  act  upon 

trine  of  conception  or  imagination,  as  an  im-  it;    but  1  can  tliink  of  it  notwithstandin;;'' 

mediate  knowledge  of  the  distant,  —  a  case  This  requires  no  comment.    I  shall,  subse- 

which  I  deferred  noticing,  when  I  considered  qucntly,   have   occasion   to   show  how  Reid 

his   conti-adistinction  of   that    faculty   from  confused  himself  about  the  term  object,  —  this 

consciousne.ss.     '■  I  can   conceive,"  he  says,  being  part  and  parcel  of  his  grand  error  iu 

"an  individual  object  that  really  exists,  such  confounding  representative  or  mediate,  and 

as  St.  Paul'8  Church  in  LiODdon.    I  have  an  intuitive  or  immediate  knowledge, 
idea  of  it;  that  is,  I  conceive  it.    The  imme- 

20 


LECTURE    XIII. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,  —  ITS   SPECIAL   CONDITIONS:   RELATION    TO 
COGNITIVE    FACULTIES    IN    GENERAL. 

"Wk  now  proceed  to  consider  the  third  faculty  which  Dr.  Reid 

specially  contradistinguishes  from  Consciousness, 

Our    cousciousnest;       —  I  mean  Perception,  or  that  faculty  through 

coextensive  with  our       which  wc  obtain  a  knowledge  of  the  external 

''°"  *  ^^'  ,    _,.  .  world.     Xow,  you  will  observe  that  Reid  main- 

lieid      contradistin-  ^       •  _  . 

jruisiies  consciousness       tains  against  the  immense  majority  of  all,  and 
from  perception.  the   entire   multitude  of  modern    philosophers, 

that  we  have  a  direct  and  immediate  knowledsre 
of  the  external  world.  He  thus  vindicates  to  mind  not  only  an  im- 
mediate knoAvledge  of  its  own  modifications,  but  also  an  immediate 
knowledge  of  what  is  essentially  different  from  mind  or  self,  —  the 
modifications  of  matter.  He  did  not,  however,  allow  that  tliese 
were  known  by  any  common  faculty,  but  held  that  the  qualities  of 
mind  were  exclusively  made  known  to  xis  by  Consciousness,  the 
qualities  of  matter  exclusively  made  known  to  us  by  Perception. 
Cons(;iousness  was,  thus,  the  fliculty  of  immediate  knowledge,  purely 
subjective  ;  perce])tion,  the  faculty  of  immediate  knowledge,  purely 
objective.  The  Ego  Avas  known  by  one  faculty,  the  Xon-Ego  by 
!  another.  "  Consciousness,"  says  Dr.  Reid,  "  is  only  of  tilings  in  the 
mind,  and  not  of  external  things.  It  is  improper  to  say,  I  am  con- 
scious of  the  table  which  is  before  me.  I  perceive  it,  I  see  it,  but 
do  not  say  I  am  conscious  of  it.  As  that  consciousness  by  which 
we  have  a  knowledge  of  the  operations  of  our  own  minds,  is  a  dif- 
ferent power  from  th:it  by  which  we  perceive  external  objects,  and 
as  these  different  powers  have  different  names  in  our  language, 
and,  I  believe,  in  all  languages,  a  philosopher  ought  carefully  to 
preserve  this  distinction,  and  never  to  confound  things  so  different  in 
their  nature."^  And  in  another  place  he  observes:  —  "Conscious- 
ness always  goes  along  with  perception ;  but  they  are  different 
operations    of   the   mind,    and   they  have    their    different    objects. 

1  IntflUcliial  PiHL'frs,  Essay  i.,  chap.  i.     Coll.  V/'nrkx,  p.  223- 


Lkct.  Xin.  METAPHYSICS.  155 

Consciousness  is  not  perception,  nor  is  the  object  of  consciousness 
the  object  of  perception." ' 

Dr.  lleid  has  many  merits  as  a  speculator,  but  the  only  merit 
which  he  arrogates  to  himself,  —  the  principal 

Principal  merit  ac-       n^crit  accorded  to  him  by  others, —  is,  that  he  was 

corded    to  Reid  as  a  „  ,  ,,  ,  .  .  , 

the  hrst  philosoinier,  in  more  recent  times,  wliu 

philosopher.  ^  '  '  ' 

dared,  in  his  doctrine  of  immediate  perception, 
to  vindicate,  against  the  unanimous  authority  of  ))hilosophers,  the 
universal  conviction  of  mankind.  But  this  doctriiu;  he  has  at  best 
imperfectly  developed,  and,  at  the  same  time,  lias  unfortunately 
obscured  it,  bv  errors  of  so  singular  a  ehara(;ter,  that  some  acute 
philosophers  —  for  Dr.  Brown  does  not  stand  alone  —  have  never 
even  suspected  what  his  doctrine  of  perception  actually  is.  One 
of  these  errors  is  the  contradistinction  of  perception  from  con- 
sciousness. 

I  may  here  notice,  by  anticipation,  that  philosophers,  at  least 
modern   ])hilosophers,  before  Keid,  alloAvcd  to 
Modern  philosophers       the  mind  uo  immediate  knowledge  of  the  ex- 
lefvrt   Keid   held   a       tcmal  reality.     They  conceded  to  it  only  a  rep- 
doctrine  of  represent-       i-esentj^tive  Or  mediate  knowledge  of  external 

ative     perception,     in  ^„     ,  i  ''i     ii    .1      ,    .i 

one  or  other  of  two       things.     Of  tlicsc  soiuc,  howevcr,  held  that  the 
forms.  representative  object  —  the  object  immediately 

known  —  was  different  from  the  mind  knowing, 
as  it  was  also  different  from  the  reality  it  represented  ;  while  otlurs, 
on  a  simpler  hv])othesis,  maintained  that  there  was  no  iiitermediatt« 
entity,  no  terthun  quid,  between  the  reality  and  the  mind,  but  that 
the  immediate  or  representative  object  was  itself  a  mental  modifi- 
cation.^ The  latter  thus  grantiug  to  mind  no  immediate  knowledge 
of  aiif'ht  beyond  its  own  modification,  could,  consequently,  only 
recojrnize  a  consciousness  of  self  The  former,  on  the  contrary, 
could,  as  they  actually  did,  accord  to  consciousness  a  cognizance  of 

iiol-sclf     Now,  Reid,  after  asserting  against  the 

Heid  exempts  tii.        pliilosoplu'i's  the   iinme<liacy  of  our  knowledge 

object   of  perception       ^^^.  (.xtcnial  thin«.-s,  woiild  afmost  aj.pear  to  have 

froiti     the    sphere    0I  ,     t    1   '^  .  •  1      1  i  1     •  1 

ln'cu  startled  by  his  own  l)oldiu'ss,  :ui<l,  instead 
of  carrying  his  pi-inciple  fiirly  to  its  issue,  by 
according  to  consciousness  on  his  doctrine  that  knowledge  of  the 
external  world  as  existing,  wliicli,  in  the  doctrine  of  the  philoso- 
phers, it  obtained  of  the  external  world  as  represented,  he  incon- 
wstently  stopped  short,  split   immediate  kTi<MvU'dg(?  into  two  parts, 

1  M/rf.,  Essay  ii.,  chap.   iii.  Coll.  Wotkx,  p.       ries  of  knowh-dj;.' iind  perception,  s«)  the  Aii- 
597.  thor"s  suppleim-nfiiry  diwierlntioiis  to   Heicrji 

2  Kor  a  ('iill  di>cussiou  of  the  viiiioii^  Iheo-       Works,  Noti-s  \\  and  O  —  KO). 


consciousness. 


i.jQ  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XIII. 

and  bestowed  the  knowledge  of  material  qualities  on  perception 
alone,  allowing  that  of  mental  modifications  to  remain  excTusively 
with  consciousness.  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  the  exemption  of 
tlie  objects  of  ])erception  from  the  sphere  of  consciousness,  can  be 
easily  shown  to  be  self-contradictorv. 

What !  say  the  partisans  of  Dr.  Reid,  ai-e  Ave  not  to  distinguish, 
as  the  product  of  different  faculties,  the  knowledge  we  obtain  of 
objects  in  themselves  the  most  oi)posite  ?  Mind  and  matter  are 
mutually  separated  by  the  whole  diameter  of  being.  Mind  and 
matter  are,  in  fact,  nothing  but  Avords  to  express  two  series  of  phae- 
nomena  known  less  in  themselves,  than  in  contra<listinction  from 
each  other.  The  difference  of  the  phaMiomena  to  be  known,  surely 
legitimates  a  difference  of  faculty  to  know  them.  In  answer  to  this, 
Ave  admit  at  once,  that  —  Avere  the  question  merely  Avhether  AA-e 
should  not  distinguish,  under  consciousness,  tAvo  special  faculties, — 
whether  Ave  should  not  study  apart,  and  bestoAV  distinctive  appella- 
tions on  consciousness  considered  as  more  particularly  cognizant  of 
the  external  Avorld,  and  on  consciousness  considered  as  more  partic- 
ularly cognizant  of  the  internal  —  this  Avould  be  liighlA"  proper  and 
expedient.  But  this  is  not  the  question.  Dr.  Reid  distinguishes 
conscioasness  as  a  special  faculty  froni  perception  as  a  special  fac- 
ulty, and  he  alloAvs  to  the  former  the  cognizance  of  the  latter  in  its 
operation,  to  the  exclusion  of  its  object.  lie  maintains  that  Ave  are 
conscious  of  our  perception  of  a  rose,  but  not  of  the  rose  perceived. 
That  Ave  know  the  ego  by  one  act  of  knowledge,  the  norl-ego  by 
another.  This  doctrine  I  hold  to  be  erroneous,  and  it  is  thi* 
doctrine  I  noAV  proceed  to  refute. 

In  the  first  place,  it  is  not  oidy  a  logical  axiom,  but  a  self-evident 

truth,  that  the  knowledge  of  opposites  is  one. 

That  in  tiiis  Reid       Thus,  Avc   cauuot  kuow  Avhat    is    tall   without 

is  wrong  shown,  r,       ],„owing  what  is  short,  —  AVC  know  what  is  vir- 

f  rom    the    princ.ple, 

that  the  knowicdsre  ^"^  ^"b'  =^^  ^^'^'  kuow  Avhat  is  vicc,  —  the  scicuce 
of  oiposites  is  one.         of  health  is  but  another  name  ft)r  the  science  of 

disease.  Nor  do  Ave  know  the  opposite.s,  the  I 
and  Thou,  the  ego  and  n9n-ego,  the  sid)ject  and  object,  mind  and 
matter,  by  a  different  hiAV.  The  act  Avhich  affirms  tliat  this  particu- 
lar phasnomenon  is  a  modification  of  3Ie,  virtually  affirms  that  the 
])hsenomenon  is  not  a  modification  of  anything  different  from  Me» 
and,  consequently,  iinjdies  a  common  cognizance  of  self  and  not- 
self;  the  act  Avhich  affirms  that  this  other  phsenomenon  is  a  modifi- 
cation of  something  different  from  Me,  virtually  affirms  that  the 
phenomenon  is  not  a  modification  of  Me,  and,  consequently,  im- 
plies a  common  cognizance  of  not-self  and  self     But  unless  we  are 


Lkct.  XIII.  METAPHYSICS.  157 

prepared  to  muintiiin  that  the  faculty  cognizant  of  self  and  not-self 
is  different  from  the  faculty  cognizant  of  not-self  and  self,  we  must 
allow  that  the  ego  and  non-ego  are  known  andWliscrirainated  in 
thie  same  indivisible  act  of  knowledge.  What,  then,  is  the  faculty 
of  Avhich  this  act  of  knowledge  is  the  energy  ?  It  cannot  be  Reid's 
consciousness,  for  that  is  cognizant  only  of  the  ego  or  mind,  —  it 
cannot  be  Reid's  perception,  for  that  is  cognizant  only  of  the  non- 
ecro  or  matter.  But  as  the  act  cannot  be  denied,  so  the  ficidtv 
must  be  admitted.  It  is  not,  however,  to  be  found  in  Reid's  cata- 
logue. But  though  not  recognized  by  Reid  in  his  system,  its  neces- 
sity may,  even  on  his  hypothesis,  be  proved.  For  if  witli  him  we 
allow  only  a  special  faculty  immediately  cognizant  of  the  ego,  and 
a  special  faculty  immediately  cognizant  of  the  non-ego,  we  are  at 
once  met  with  the  question.  By  what  faculty  are  the  ego  and  non- 
ego  discriminated?  We  cannot  say  by  consciousness,  for  that 
knows  nothing  but  mind,  —  we  cannot  say  by  perception,  for  that 
knows  nothing  but  matter.  But  as  mind  and  matter  are  never 
known  a])art  and  by  themselves,  but  always  in  mutual  correlation 
and  contrast,  this  knowledge  of  them  in  connection  must  be  the 
function  of  some  faculty,  not  like  Reid's  consciousness  and  percep- 
tion, severally  limited  to  mind  and  to  matter  as  exclusive  objects, 
but  cognizant  of  them  as  the  ego  and  non-ego,  —  as  the  two  terms 
of  a  relation.  It  is  thus  shown  that  an  act  and  a  fiiculty  must,  per- 
force, on  Reid's  own  hy])othesis,  be  atlmitted,  in  which  these  two 
terms  sliall  be  comprehended  together  in  the  unity  of  knowledge, 
—  in  short,  a  higher  conscionsness,  embracing  Reid's  consciousness 
and  perce]>tion,  and  in  which  the  two  acts,  severally  cognitive  of 
mind  and  of  matter,  sha.l  be  comprehended,  and  reduced  to  unity 
and  correlation.  But  wliat  is  this  but  to  admit  at  last,  in  an  unphi- 
losophical  com])lexity,  the  common  consciousness  of  subject  and 
object,  of  mind  and  matter,  which  we  set  out  Avitli  denying  in  its 
jthilosophical  simplicity ? 

But,  in  the  second  ))lace,  the  attem])t  of  Reid  to  make  conscious- 
ness conversant  about  the  various  cognitive  fac- 
12°,  ijcid's  limitation       idtics  to  the  exclusiou  of  their  objects,  is  equally 
of  consciousness  is sui-       impossible  in  regard  to  Perception,  as  we  have 

ciiial  ol'liis  (li)Ctrine  of  ,  -i.    ^       i         •  ^    ^-  j_       r  •       ^-  i 

sliown  It  to   ne  ni  relation  to  Imatrmation  and 

iiii   iniinciliate   knowl-  _  ^ 

erii-e  of  tiie  external  Memory ;  nay,  the  attempt,  in  the  case  of  per- 
■world.  ception,  would,  if  allowed,  be  even  suicidal  of 

his  great  doctrine  of  our  iinnie<liate  knowledge 
ot"  the  external    world. 

Reid's  assertion,  that  Ave  are  conscious  of  the  act  of  pi'rcei)tion, 
but   not  of  the    object  perceived,   involves,  first  of  all,  a  general 


158  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XIR 

absurdity.     For  it  virtually  asserts  that  we  can  know  what  we  are 

not  conscious  of  knowing.     An  act  of  percep 
it  first  of  all  in^.     ^j^j^  -g  ^^  j^^^  ^f  knowledge ;  that  we  perceive, 

volves  a   general  ab-  ,  ,t  -T-   •  ,•  ., 

that  we  know.  Aow,  it  in  perception  there 
be  an  external  reality  known,  but  of  which  ex- 
ternal reality  we  are,  on  Reid's  hypothesis,  not  conscious,  then  is 
there  an  object  known,  of  which  we  are  not  conscious.  But  as  we 
know  only  inasmuch  as  we  know  that  we  know,  —  in  other  words, 
inasmuch  as  we  are  conscious  that  we  know,  —  we  cannot  know 
an  object  without  being  conscious  of  that  object  as  known ;  conse- 
quently, we  cannot  perceive  an  object  Avithout  being  conscious  of 
that  object  as  perceived. 

But,  again,  how  is  it  possible  that  we  can  be   conscious  of  an 

operation  of  percei^tion,  unless  consciousness  be 

And  secondly,  it  de-       coextensive  with  that  act ;  and  how  can  it  be 

stroys  the  distinction  ..    ^         •  -^i     ^i  j.  -i         ^      ^ 

^        .  .^  ,,       coextensive  with  the  act,  and  not  also  convers- 

of  consciousness  itsell.  ' 

ant  with  its  object  ?  An  act  of  knowledge  is 
only  possible  in  relation  to  an  object,  —  and  it  is  an  act  of  one 
kind  or  another  only  by  sjiecial  relation  to  a  particular  object. 
Thus  the  object  at  once  determines  the  existence,  and  specifies  the 
character  of  the  existence,  of  the  intellectual  energy.  An  act  of 
knowledcre  existino-  and  being  what  it  is  onlv  bv  relation  to  its 
object,  it  is  manifest  that  the  act  can  be  knoAvn  only  through  the 
object  to  which  it  is  correlative ;  and  Reid's  supposition  that  an 
operation  can  be  known  in  consciousness  to  the  exclusion  of  its 
object,  is  imjKissible.  For  example,  I  see  the  inkstand.  How  can 
I  be  conscious  that  my  present  modification  exists,  —  that  it  is  a. 
pei'ception,  and  not  another  mental  state,  —  that  it  is  a  perception 
of  sight  to  the  exclusion  of  every  other  sense,  —  and,  finally,  that 
it  is  a  perception  of  the  inkstand  and  of  the  inkstand  only,  —  unless 
my  consciousness  comprehend  within  its  sphere  the  object,  which 
at  once  determines  the  existence  of  the  act,  qualifies  its  kind,  and 
distinguishes  its  individuality  ?  Annihilate  the  inkstand,  you  anni- 
hilate the  perception ;  annihilate  the  consciousness  of  the  object, 
you  annihilate  the  consciousness  of  the  operation. 

It  undoubtedly  sounds  strange  to  say,  I   am  conscious  of  the 

inkstand,  instead  of  saying,  I  am  conscious  of 

Whence  the  apparent       the  perception  of  the  inkstand.     This  I  admit, 

incongruity  of  the  ex-       ^^^^  ^j^^  admissiou  Can  avail  nothing  to  Dr.  Reid, 

pression,  "Conscious-  n         i  .  •  r-     i 

ness  of  the  object  in       ^^r  the  aii]jarent  incongruity  of  the  expression 
perception."  arises  Only  from  the  prevalence  of  that  doctrine 

of  perception  in  the  schools  of  philosophy,  which 
it  is  his  principal  merit  to  have  so  vigorously  assailed.     So  long 


Lect.  Xin.  METAPHYSICS.  159 

as  it  was  xiniversally  assumed  by  the  learned,  that  the  mind  is  cog- 
nizant of  nothing  beyond,  either,  on  one  theory,  its  own  represent- 
ative modifications,  or,  on  another,  the  species,  ideas,  or  represent- 
ative entities,  different  from  itself,  which  it  contains,  and  that  all  it 
knows  of  a  material  M^orld  is  only  an  internal  representation  which, 
by  the  necessity  of  its  nature,  it  mistakes  for  an  external  reality, — 
the  supposition  of  an  immediate  knowledge  of  material  phaenomena 
was  regarded  only  as  a  vulgar,  an  imphilosophical  illusion,  and  the 
term  consciousness,  which  was  exclusively  a  learned  or  technical 
expression  for  all  immediate  knowledge,  was,  consequently,  never 
employed  to  express  an  immediate  knowledge  of  aught  beyond 
the  mind  itself;  and  thus,  when  at  length,  by  Reid's  own  refutation 
of  the  prevailing  doctrine,  it  becomes  necessary  to  extend  the 
term  to  the  immediate  knowledge  of  external  objects,  this  exten- 
sion, so  discordant  with  2^hiloso])hic  usage,  is,  by  the  force  of  asso- 
ciation and  custom,  felt  at  first  as  strange  and  even  contradictory. 
A  slight  consideration,  however,  is  sufficient  to  reconcile  us  to  the 
expression,  in  showing,  if  we  hold  the  doctrine  of  immediate  per- 
ception, the  necessity  of  not  limiting  consciousness  to  our  sub- 
jective states.  In  fact,  if  we  look  beneath  the  surface,  conscious- 
ness was  not,  in  general,  restricted,  even  in  ])hilosophical  usage,  to 
the  modifications  of  the  conscious  self.  That  great  majority  of 
philosophers  who  lield  that,  in  perception,  Ave  know  nothing  of  the 
external  reality  as  existing,  but  that  Ave  are  immediately  cogjiizant 
only  of  a  representative  somethiug,  difierent  both  from  the  object 
represented,  and  from  the  percii)ient  mind,  —  these  philosophers, 
one  and  all,  admitted  that  Ave  are  conscious  of  this  tertium  quid 
present  to,  but  not  a  modification  of,  mind,  —  for,  except  Reid  and 
his  school,  I  am  aware  of  no  philosophers  Avho  denied  that  con- 
sciousness Avas  coextensiA'e  or  identical  w  illi  immediate  knowledge. 

But,  in  the  third  jilace,  we  liavc  ]>reviously  reserved  a  sup})Osition 
on  which   Ave  may  possibly  aAold   some  of  tlie 

3°,  A  Hiii)pot;itioii       self-contradictioiis    which    emerge    from    Reid's 
on  which  8oine  of  the       proposing   as   the    object  of  consciousness   the 

Belf-coiilnuliclioii.s  of  ^  ^      t  ^  •  •  i  i 

Keid's  doctrine  may       ''''"t'  ^'"t  excludmg  from  its  coguizancc  thc   ob- 
bc  avoided.  j«'ct,  of  perception ;  tluit  is,  the  object  of  its  own 

object.  The  supposition  is,  that  Dr.  Reid  com- 
mitted the  same  error  in  reganl  to  ]K'rcej)tion,  which  he  di-l  in 
regard  to  memory  and  imagination,  and  that  in  nuiintaining  our 
immediate  knowledge  in  jierception,  he  meant  nothing  more  than  to 
maintain,  that  tlie  mind  is  not,  in  that  act,  cognizant  of  any  repre- 
sentative object  different  from  its  oavu  modification,  of  any  hrtium 
qidd  ministering  betAVeen  itself  au<l  the  external  reality;  but  that. 


160  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct    XIH 

in  perception,  the  mind  is  determined  itself  to  represent  the  un- 
known external  reality,  and  that,  on  this  self-representation,  he 
abusively  bestowed  the  name  of  immediate  knowledge,  in  contrast 
to  that  more  com2:)lex  theory  of  perception,  which  holds  that  there 
intervenes  between  the  percipient  mind  and  the  external  existence 
an  intermediate  something,  different  from  both,  by  which  the  former 
knows,  and  by  Avhich  the  latter  is  represented.  On  the  supposition 
of  this  mistake,  we  may  believe  him  guiltless  of  the  othei'S ;  and 
we  can  certainly,  on  this  ground,  more  easily  conceive  how  he  could 
•accord  to  consciousness  a  knowledge  only  of  the  percipient  act, — 
meaning  by  that  act  the  represent  ition  of  the  external  reality ;  and 
how  he  could  deny  to  consciousness  a  knowledge  of  the  object  of 
perception,  —  meaning  by  that  object  the  unknown  reality  itself. 
This  is  the  only  opinion  which  Di*.  Brown  and  others  ever  suspect 
him  of  maintaining ;  and  a  strong  case  might  certainly  be  made 
out  to  prove  that  this  view  of  his  doctrine  is  correct.  But  if  such 
were,  in  truth,  Reid's  opinion,  then  has  he  accomplished  nothing, — 
his  whole  philosophy  is  one  mighty  blunder.  For,  as  I  shall  here- 
after show,  idealism  finds  in  this  simpler  hypothesis  of  rej^resenta- 
tion  even  a  more  secure  foundation  than  on  the  other;  and,  in 
point  of  fact,  on  this  hypothesis,  the  most  philosophical  scheme  of 
idealism  that  exists,  —  the  Egoistic  or  Fichtean,  is  established. 
Taking,  however,  the  general  analogy  of  Reid's  system,  and  a 
great  number  of  unambiguous  passages  into  ac- 
18  Bupposi  jon  un-       poi^n^  J  am  satisfied  that  this  view  of  his  doc- 

tenable. 

trine  is  erroneous;  and  I  shall  endeavor,  when 
we  come  to  treat  of  mediate  and  immediate  knowledge,  to  explain 
how,  from  his  never  having  formed  to  himself  an  adequate  concep- 
tion of  these  under  all  their  possible  forms,  and  from  his  historical 
ignorance  of  them  as  actually  held  by  philosophers,  —  he  often 
appears  to  speak  in  contradiction  of  the  vital  doctrine  which,  in 
equity,  he  must  be  held  to  have  steadily  maintained. 

Besides  the  operations  we  have  already  considered,  —  Imagina- 
tion  or  Conception,   Memory,   and   Perception, 

Keid  and  Stewart  Avhich  Dr.  Rcid  and  Mr.  Stcwart  have  endeav- 
maintain,  that  Atten-       Qj.g,|  ^^  discriminate  fi'om  Consciousness,  there 

tioi)     and     Keflection  />i  .i  .1         ta  .  -.^-^ 

are  acts  not  eubordi-  ''^'"^  ^"^t'^^'^"  }""  ^^  Considered  Attention  and  Re- 
nate  to,  or  contained  flection,  Avhich,  in  like  manner,  they  have  main- 
in.  consciousness.  tained  to  be  an  act  or  acts,  not  subordinate  to, 

or  contained  in,  Consciousness.  But,  before 
proceeding  to  show  that  their  doctritie  on  this  point  is  almost 
equally  untenable  as  on  the  preceding,  it  is  necessary  to  clear  ujt 
some  confusion,  and  to  notice  certain  collateral  errors. 


Lkct.  XIII.  METAPHYSICS.  161 

In  the  first  place,  on  this  lioad,  tliese  i)liiloso])liers  are  not  at  one ; 

for  Mr.  Stewart    seems    inadvertently    to    have 

Certain  collateral  er-       misrepresented   the  Opinion  of  Dr.  Reid  in  re- 

rors  noticed.    Stewart  ^  .       ^  _ 

misrepresents  Reid's  gard  to  the  meaning  and  difference  of  Atten- 
doctrine  of  the  mean-  tion  and  lleflection.  Reid  either  employs  these 
ing  and  dincrencc  ot       terms  as  svnonymous  expressions,  or  he  distin- 

Attention  and  Keflec-  .   ,  '  ,      ,  ,  .  .  ,      . 

guishes  them  onlv^  by  makino;  attention  relative 

tion.  o  J       J  o 

to  the  consciousness  and  perception  of  the  pi'es- 
ent ;  reflection  to  the  memory  of  the  past.  In  the  fifth  chapter  of 
the  second  Essay  on  the  Intellectnal  Poiners^  he  says,  "In  order, 
however,  to  our  having  a  distinct  notion  of  any  of  the  operations 
of  our  own  minds,  it  is  not  enough  that  we  be  conscious  of  them, 
for  all  men  liave  this  consciousness :  it  is  farther  necessary  tliat  we 
attend  to  them  while  they  are  exerted,  and  reflect  upon  them  with 
care  while  they  are  recent  and  fresh  in  our  memory.  It  is  neces- 
sary that,  by  emplo^ang  ourselves  frequently  in  this  way,.  Ave  get 
the  habit  of  this  attention  and  reflection,"  etc.  And  in  the  first 
chapter  of  the  sixth  Essay,  "Mr.  Locke,"  he  says,  "has  restricted 
the  word  reflection  to  that  which  is  employed  about  the  operations 
of  our  minds,  without  any  authority,  as  I  think,  from  custom,  the 
arbiter  of  language :  for  surely  I  may  reflect  upon  what  I  have  seen 
or  heard,  as  well  as  upon  what  I  have  thought.  The  word,  in  its 
j)roper  and  common  meaning,  is  equally  a])plicable  to  objects  of 
sense,  and  to  objects  of  consciousness,  lie  has  likewise  confounded 
reflection  with  consciousness,  and  seems  not  to  have  been  aware 
that  they  are  different  powers,  and  appear  at  very  different  periods 
of  life."-  Ill  the  first  of  these  quotations,  Reid  migiit  use  attention 
in  relation  to  the  consciousness  of  the  present,  reflection,  to  the 
memory  of  the  past;  but  in  tlie  second,  in  saying  that  reflection 
"is  equally  applicable  to  objects  of  sense  and  to  objects  of  con- 
sciousness," he  distinctly  indicates  that  the  two  tenns  are  used  by 

him  as  convertible.  Reid  (I  may  notice  by  the 
Keid  wren;,'  in  iiis       Avay)  is  wliolly  wroug  ill  his  strictures  on  Locke 

censure     of     Locke's         c     '  \  •  j.  •    ^    3  c  ^^        j_  j»j- 

,,,    ,       „         tor  Ills  restricted  usage  of  the  term  rejfection ; 

usage  of  file  tenn  Kc-  _  ...  .'  ,' 

flection.  for  it  WMs  Hot  Until  after  his  time  that  the  term 

came,  by  Wolf,  to  be  jihilosophically  employed 
in  a  more  extended  signification  than  that  in  which  Locke  correctly 
applies  it."     Reid  is  likewise  Avrong,  if  we  literally  understand   his 


1  Coll.  Works,  p.  258.  liquet   quid  sit   facultas   rcflfcfondi,  scilicet 

2  Ibid.,  p.  420.  quo  1  sit  f:iciilta.s  atfeiitioneni  siiam  8uccos.>iive 

3  (Wolf,  Pxijdinln^in  F.rnpirirn.  ^  2.57:  'At-  ad  L'ii(iu;i>  in  re  pcn-rpta  insunt.  proarbilriodl- 
teutionis  succos.>uva  diipcflo  ad  ea  qux  In  re  rigondi."]  Ki'ici  is  further  criticized  in  the  Au- 
percepta  insnnf  dioitur  Krjlexia.    TJnde  simul  thor's  edition  of  his  works,  pp.  347,420.  —  Ed. 

21 


162  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  Xlll 

words,  in  saying  that  reflection  is  employed  in  common  languawfl 

in  relation  to  objects  of  sense.     It  is  never  em. 
And  in  saying  that       ployed  cxccpt  npon  the  mind  and  its  contents. 

Reflection  is  employed  -itt  ^  i  •  i   .  n 

in  relation  to  objects  ^^  ^^""°^  ^^  ^^^^'^  ^^  ^'^fl^^^  ^^P^n  any  externa\ 
of  sense.  object,  except  in  so  far  as  that  object  has  been 

previously  perceived,  and  its  image  become, 
part  and  parcel  of  our  intellectual  furniture.  We  may  be  said  to 
reflect  upon  it  in  memory,  but  not  in  perception.     But  to  return. 

Reid,  therefore,  you  will  observe,  identifies  attention  and  reflec. 
tion.  Now  Mr.  Stewart,  in  the  chapter  on  Attention  in  the  firsV 
volume  of  his  Elements^  says,  "  Some  important  observations  on 
the  subject  of  attention  occur  in  difterent  parts  of  Dr.  Reid's  writ, 
ings ;  particularly  in  his  Essays  on  the  Intellectual  Poiceis  of  3Iah, 
p.  62,  and  his  Essays  on  the  Active  Powers  of  Man,  p.  78  et  seq. 
To  this  ingenious  author  we  are  indebted  for  the  remark,  that  atten. 
tion  to  things  external  is  properly  called  observation;  and  attention 
to  the  subjects  of  our  consciousness,  reflections^ 

I  may,  however,  notice  a  more  important  inadvertence  of  Mv. 

Stewart,  and  this  it  is  the  more  requibitb  to  do^ 

Locke  not  the  first       j^g  jj^g  authority  is  worthy  of  high  vespe^t,  nox 

to   use  the    term    Re-  ,  ,.      ,  m  ,  •      ,         ,  • 

flection  in  its  psycho-  ^nly  on  account  of  philosophicul  talent,  Dui  ot 
logical  application.  historical  accuracy.     In  various  passages  of  his 

writings,  Mr.  Stewart  stat6><i  that  Locke  seems 
to  have  considered  the  employment  of  the  tevm  reflection,  in  its 
psychological  acceptation,  as  original  to  iumself;  and  he  notices 
it  as  a  curious  circumstance  that  Sir  Jolm.  Davies,  Attorney-General 
to  Queen  Elizabeth,  should,  in  his  poem  on  the  Immortality  of  the 
Soul,  have  employed  this  term  in  the  -sajne  signification.  How  Mr. 
Stewart  could  have  fallen  into  thi.*;  error,  is  wholly  inconceivable. 
The  word,  as  emploj^ed  by  Lock^,  was  in  common  use  in  every 
school  of  philosophy  for  fifteen  hundred  years  previous  to  the  pub- 
lication of  the  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding.  It  was  a 
term  in  the  philosophy  bott  of  Descartes,^  and  of  Gassendi;"*  and 
it  was  borrowed  by  them  from  the  schoolmen,  with  whom  it  was 


1  Works,  vol.  ii.  pp.  122, 123.  3  [Descartes,  Epist.,  P.  ii.,  Ep.  iv.  (See  Gru- 

yer,  Essais  Philosop/iir/ues,  tom.  iv.  p.  118.)  De 

2  This  distinction  has  beei^  aWe;_,pted  by  la  Forge,  De  Mente  Humana,  Praef.,  p.  9  ] 
others.  [See  Keckermann,  Opera,  tom.  i.  p.  -4  [Gassendi,  Physica,  §  iii.  Memb.  Post.,  lib. 
1612,  where  he  distiugui.shjs  reflection,  —  '.itel-  ix.  c.  3.  (  Opera,  I.eyden,  1658;  vol.  ii.  p.  451.) 
/cctio  rf^cara,  !H/frn«,  per  quam  homo  intelligit  "Ad  secuiidam  voro  operationem  praesertim 
suiimintellectum, —  from  the  intellectio  externa,  spectat  ipsa  intellectus  ad  suam  operationem 
qua  intellectus  alias  res  extra  se  positas  per-  attenlio,  reflexione  ilia  supra  actionem  pro- 
cipit.  See  also  Mazure.  Cours  de  Philosop/Ue ,  priam,  qua  se  intelligere  iutelligit,  cogitatv» 
tom.  i.  p.  381.  —  Ed  ]  se  agitare."! 


Lkct.  Xm.  METAPHYSICS.  163 

a  houseliold  word.'  From  the  schoolmen,  iiuleed,  Locke  seems  to 
have  u(h)i)ted  the  fundamental  principle  of  his  philosophy,  the 
derivation  of  our  knowledge  through  the  double  medium  of  sense 
and  reflection,  —  at  least,  nome  of  them  had  in  terms  articulately 
enounced  this  princii)le  five  centuries  previous  to  the  English  ])hi- 
losopher,  and  enounced  it  also  in  a  manner  far  more  correct  than 
was  done  by  him ;-  for  they  did  not,  like  Locke,  regard  reflectiou 
itself  as  a  source  of  knowledge,  —  thus  reducing  all  our  knowledge 
to  experience  and  its  generalization,  but  viewed  in  reflection  only 
the  channel  through  which,  along  with  the  contingent  pha^nomena 
of  our  internal  experience,  we  discover  the  necessary  judgments 
which  are  oriiiinal  or  native  to  the  mind. 

There  is,  likewise,  another  oversight  of  Mr.  Stewart  which  I  may 
notice.  "  Although,"  he  says,  "  the  connection  between  attention 
and  memory  has  been  frequently  remarked  in  general  terms,  I  do 
not  recollect  that  the  power  of  attention  has  been  mentioned  by 
any  of  the  writers  on  pneumatology  in  their  enumeration  of  facul- 
ties of  tlie  mind  ;  nor  has  it  been  considered  by  :iny  one,  so  far  as  I 
know,  as  of  sufficient  importance  to  deserve  a  particular  examina- 
tion." '■^  So  for  is  this  from  being  the  case  that  there  are  many  pre- 
vious authors  who  have  considered  attention  as  a  separate  faculty, 
and  treated  of  it  even  at  greater  length  than  ]\Ir.  Stewart  liimself. 
This  is  true,  not  only  of  the  celebrated  Wolf,*  but  of  the  whole 
Wolfian  school;  and  to  these  I  may  add  Condillac, ^  Contzen,*'  Tie- 
demann,'^  Irwimx, '*  Malebranche''  and  many  others.  But  this  by  the 
way. 

Taking,  however.  Attention  and  Reflection  for  acts  of  the  same 
fiiculty,  and  supposing,  with  Mr.  Stewart,  that  reflection  is  pro})erly 
attention  directed  to  the  phasnomena  of  mind  ;  observation,  atten- 


1  [We  have  the  scholastic  brocard  pointing  shn.  Gocleiiius,  Lexicon  Philosophicum,  c.  Ki* 
to  tlUMhnicuIties  of  the  study  of  sol f:  "  IJo-  Jt>xu.<.  Kpckorniniin,  Opem^  torn.  i.  pp.  1600, 
flexiva  coKitatio  facile  fit  dcfloxiva."  See  KVl.  (■oniiiiliiiciiises  in  ^Wst.  tie  Aninta,  pp. 
Keckermami,  Opfrn,  toiii.  i   p.  4G0  ]  370,373.] 

2  [See  Scotus,  Suprr  Vniversnlihux  Porphyrii,  ."i  EUmnit^, X.C.I.  Collected  Works,  vo\.\\.  p. 
(^u.  iii. :  "Ad  tcrtiiiin  dico  tiuod  ilia  propos-  122.  —  Kn. 

itio  Atistotcli.s,  nihil    est   in    intelli'ctu  <'iuin  t  P<tjc/wlo^in  Enjpiri'cti.  i  2M,  et  sftj.  —  Kd. 

priu«  riiciit  in  si-nsn,  vera  ost  do  I'O  (juod  est  •'>   Origin,-  (Its   Connmsnncrs  Hamainef,  part 

iniinuni    inlolIij;ibik',  (jnod   fst  scilicet  ipiod  i.  ;*  ii.  cli.  2.  —  Ki>. 

,uid  est  rei  nialeiialis,  non  antein  de  unuiibus  o  PreUctiunes  Logirrr.  et  Metaphysicrr  auctor* 

\KT!<e  intclligibilihus;  (piia  niulta  perse  intcl-  Adamo  Contzeii;  Meclilin,  1S3I);  vol.  iii.  p, 

iif;uiitur,  non  i|iiia  specieni  facinnt  in  sensu,  31.    (Originally  published  in  177.'>-17*).) —  Kd 

sed    jier    reftexionein    intellectus.'"     ( l!y    the  7  JJaiiilbiirli  (l>r  Pyuli(ilo«)i-,  p.  I'll.  —  Kl» 

Scoli.sts  the  act  of  intellect  was  rej^arded  as  8  Er/ahriingfn   i""/    Cntfrsuc/nin^m  ilf>er  lirn 

threefold:  Rectus,  —  Collatiftis,  —  lii^cxus.   See  M'tischen  von  karl  Tranz  von  Irwing,  ISerlin, 

CoDStantius  (a  Saruano),   Tract,  de   Sfcundis  1777,  b.  i.  p.  411 ;  h.  ii.  p  2<Xt.  —  F,d.                 ^ 

Inlfttftnitihtis :  Scoti  Opera,  p.  452.)      See  al80  9  De  la  Rechirchr  de  laVcrllr.  lib.  iii.  ch   4; 

I'hilip  iloceuicus.  Cuntfinplntionrs  il^Sl),  pas-  lib.  vi.  cli.  2.     Traitif  de  la  Moraii','^i-^        ti*. 


1<34  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XIH. 

tioii    directed  to  the  phaenomena   of  matter;   the   main   question 

coines  to  be  considered,  Is  attention  a  faculty 
u  Attention  a  fac-       different  from  consciousness,  as  Reid  and  Stewart 

iilty     different     from  •         •     o        »         ,       i 

consciousness  ?  mamtam  ?     As  the  hatter  of  these  i)hilosophers 

has  not  argued  the  point  himself,  but  merely 
refers  to  the  arguments  of  the  former  in  confirmation  of  their  com- 
mon doctrine,  it  will  be  sufficient  to  adduce  the  following  passage 

from  Reid,  in  which  his  doctrine  on  this  head  is 
Reid  quoted  in  re-       contained.     "  I   return,"    he    says,    "  to   what   I 

ference  to    this    ques-  •  t  i  •  • 

i5o„  mentioned  as  the  mam  source  of  information  on 

this  subject,  —  attentive  reflection  upon  the 
operations  of  our  own  minds, 

"  All  the  notions  we  have  of  mind  and  its  operations,  ai-o,  by  Mr. 
Locke,  called  ideas  of  reflection.  A  man  may  have  as  distinct  no- 
tions of  remembrance,  of  judgment,  of  will,  of  desire,  as  he  has  of 
any  object  whatever.  Such  notions,  as  Mr.  Locke  justly  observes, 
are  got  by  the  power  of  reflection.  But  what  is  this  poiver  of 
reflection  ?  '  It  is,'  says  the  same  author,  '  that  power  by  which  the 
mind  turns  its  view  inward,  and  observes  its  own  actions  and  oj^er- 
-ations.'  He  observes  elsewhere,  'That  the  understanding,  like  the 
eye,  whilst  it  makes  us  see  and  jjerceive  all  other  things,  takes  no 
notice  of  itself;  and  that  it  requires  art  and  pains  to  set  it  at  a 
distance,  and  make  it  its  own  object.' 

"  This  power  of  the  understanding  to  make  its  own  operations  its 
object :  to  attend  to  them,  and  examine  them  on  all  sides,  is  the 
power  of  reflection,  by  which  alone  we  can  have  any  distinct  notion 
of  the  powers  of  our  own  or  of  other  minds. 

"  This  reflection  ought  to  be  distinguished  from  consciousness, 
with  which  it  is  too  often  confounded,  even  by  Mr.  Locke.  All 
men  are  conscious  of  the  operations  of  their  own  minds,  at  all  times 
■while  they  are  awake ;  but  there  are  few  who  reflect  upon  them,  or 
make  them  objects  of  thought.'" 

Dr.  Reid  has  rightly  said  that  attention  is  a  voluntary  act.  This 
remark  might  have  led  him  to  the  observation, 

AVhat   Aifciition   is.  T         .  ' 

that  attention  is  not  a  separate  faculty,  or  a  fac- 
ulty of  intelligence  at  all,  but  merely  an  act  of  will  or  desire,  sub- 
ordinate to  a  certain  law  of  intelligence.  This  law  is,  that  the 
greater  the  number  of  objects  to  which  our  consciousness  is  sim- 
ultaneously extended,  the  smaller  is  the  intensity  with  which  it  is 
able  to  consider  each,  and  consequently  the  less  vivid  and  distinct 


1  />Ke««c«a<i;  Poiofr*.  Essay  i.,  chap.  V      CoU.  Works,  ^  239. 


Lect,  xui.  metaphysics.  165 

will  be  the  infoi-mation  it  obtains  of  the  several  objects.^     This  law- 
is  expressed  in  tlic  <>M  adage, 

"  Pluribus  intentus  minoi-  est  ad  singula  sensus." 

Such  being  the  law,  it  follows  that,  when  our  interest  in  any  par- 
ticular object  is  excited,  and  wlieji  we  wish  to  obtain  all  the  knowl- 
edge concerning  it  in  our  power,  it  behooves  us  to  limit  our  consid- 
eration to  that  object,  to  the  exclusion  of  others.  This  is  done  by 
an  act  of  volition  or  desire,  Avhich  is  called  attention.  But  to  view 
attention  as  a  special  act  of  intelligence,  and  to  distinguish  it  from 
consciousness,  is  utterly  ineiit.  Consciousness  may  be  compared  to 
a  telescope,  attention  to  the  pulling  out  or  in  of  the  tubes  in  accom- 
modating the  focus  to  the  object;  and  we  might,  with  e(pial  justice, 
distinguish  in  the  eye,  the  adjustment  of  the  pupil  froni  the  general 
organ  of  vision,  as,  in  the  mind,  distinguish  attention  from  consci- 
ousness as  separate  fliculties.  Not,  however,  that  they  are  to  be 
accounted  the  same.  Attention  is  consciousness,  and  something -fi/./. 
more.  It  is  consciousness  voluntarily  applied,  under  its  law  of 
limTtatfons,  to  some  determinate  object ;  it  is  consciousness  concen- 
trated. In  this  respect,  attention  is  an  interesting  subject  of  con- 
sideration ;  and  having  now  finished  what  I  proposed  in  proof  of 
the  position,  that  consciousness  is  not  a  special  facidty  of  knowl- 
edge, but  coextensive  with  all  our  cognitions, 
Attention  as  a  Ren-  J  ^\^^\\  proceed  to  Consider  it  in  its  various 
.  aspects  and  relations;    and  havuig  lust    stated 

consciousness.  ^  '  ^    '' 

the  law  of  limitation,  I  shall  go  on  t<>  what 
I  have  to  say  in  regard  to  attention  as  a  general  phtenomenoii  of 
consciousness. 

And,   here,   I  have  first  to  consider  a  question  in  which  1    am 

again  sorry   to   find  myself  oppose<l    to  many 

(an  we  atten.i   to       aistiuguishcd  philosophers,  and  in  particular,  to 

more     tlian    a    sin<rle  ' ,  .     .  ,  .  , 

object  at  once '  <>"<^  v,-\\o^(i  o])nn(.n  ou  this,   as  on   every   other 

point  of  psychological  observation,  is  justly 
entitled  to  the  highest  consideration.  The  philosopher  I  allude 
to  is  Mr.  Stewart.  The  question  is.  Can  we  attend  to  jnore 
than  a  single  olyect  at  once?  For  if  attention  be  nothing  but  tlie 
concentration  or  consciousness  on  a  smaller  nund)er  of  objects  than 
constitute  its  Avidest  compass  of  siuiultaneous  knowledge,  it  is  evi- 
dent that,  unless  this  widest  compass  of  consciousness  be  limited 
to  only  two  objects,  w^e  do  attend  when  we  converge  consciousness 
on  any  smaller  nundx-r  than  that  total  com])lement  of  objects 
which   it  can  embrace  at  onco.     For  example,   if  we  sujipose   that 

1  [Cf.-Steeb.  Vhrr  lim  Mmsrhn,  ii.  liT'J;  anil   Irics,  Anthropologit,  i.  83.] 


166  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XIII. 

the  number  of  objects  wliich  consciousness  can  simultaneously  ap- 
prebend  be  six,  the  limitation  of  consciousness  to  five,  or  four,  or 
three,  or  two,  or  one,  will  all  be  acts  of  attention,  different  in  de- 
gree, but  absolutely  identical  in  kind. 

Mr.  Stewart's  doctrine  is  as  follows:  —  "Before,"  lie  says,  "we 

leave  the  subj^'ct  of  Attention,  it  is   proper  to 

.Stewart  quoted  in       ^.^j.^  ^^^^^j^^  ^^  ^  Question  which  has  been  stated 

reference  to  this  ques-  .  ^ 

tion.  ^^'i'^"  respect  to  it;  whether  we  have  the  power 

of  attending  to  more  than  one  thing  at  one  and 
the  same  instant ;  or,  in  other  Avords,  whether  Ave  can  attend,  at  one 
and  the  same  instant,  to  objects  which  we  can  attend  to  separately? 
This  question  has,  if  I  am  not  mistaken,  been  already  decided 
by  several  philosophers  in  the  negative ;  and  I  acknowledge,  for 
my  own  part,  that  although  their  opinion  has  not  only  been  called 
in  question  by  others,  but  even  treated  with  some  degree  of  con- 
tempt as  altogether  hypothetical,  it  appears  to  me  to  be  the  most 
reasonable  and  philosophical  that  we  can  form  on  the  subject. 

"  There  is,  indeed,  a  great  variety  of  cases  in  Avhich  the  mind 
apparently  exerts  different  acts  of  attention  at  once ;  but  from  the 
instances  which  have  already  been  mentioned,  of  the  astonishing 
rapidity  of  thought,  it  is  obvious  tliat  all  this  may  be  explained 
without  supposing  those  acts  to  be  coexistent;  and  I  may  even 
A^enture  to  add,  it  may  all  be  explained  in  the  most  satisfactory 
manner,  without  ascribing  to  our  intellectual  operations  a  greater 
degree  of  rapidity  than  that  with  Avliich  Ave  knoAv,  from  the  fact, 
that  they  are  sometimes  carried  on.  The  effect  of  practice  in  in- 
creasing this  capacity  of  apparently  attending  to  different  things  at 
once,  renders  this  explanation  of  the  phaenomenon  in  question  more 
})robable  than  any  other. 

"  The  case  of  the  equilibrist  and  rope-dancer  already  mentioned, 
is  particularly  favorable  to  this  explanation,  as  it  affords  direct  evi- 
dence of  the  possibility  of  the  mind's  exerting  different  successive 
acts  in  an  interval  of  time  so  short,  as  to  produce  the  same  sensible 
effect  as  if  they  had  been  exerted  at  one  and  the  same  moment. 
In  this  case,  indeed,  the  rapidity  of  thought  is  so  remarkable,  that 
if  the  different  acts  of  the  mind  were  not  all  necessarily  accom- 
panied with  different  movements  of  the  eye,  there  can  be  no  reason 
for  doubting  that  the  philosophers  Avhose  doctrine  I  am  now  con- 
troverting, Avould  have  asserted  that  they  are  all  mathematically 
coexistent. 

"Upon  a  question,  lioAvever,  of  this  sort,  which  does  not  admit 
of  a  perfectly  direct  appeal  to  the  fact,  I  would  by  no  means  be  un- 
derstood to  decide  A\'ith  confidence ;  and,  therefore,  I  should  wish 


Lect.   XIII.  MET  A  PHYSICS.  167 

the  conclusions  I  am  now  to  state,  to  be  received  as  only  condition- 
ally establislitMl.  They  are  necessary  and  obvious  consequences  of 
the  general  ])rin('ij)le,  '  that  the  mind  can  only  attend  to  one  tiling 
at  once  ;'  but  must  stand  or  fall   with  the  truth  of  that  supposition. 

"  It  is  commonly  understood,  I  believe,  tliat  in  a  concert  of  music, 
a  good  ear  cmu  attend  to  the  different  parts  of  the  music  separately, 
or  can  attend  to  them  all  at  once,  and  feel  the  full  effect  of  the  har- 
monv.  If  the  doctrine,  however,  Avhich  I  have  endeavored  to 
establish  be  atlmitted,  it  will  follow  that  in  the  latter  case  the  mind 
is  constantly  varying  its  attention  from  the  one  part  of  the  music  to 
the  other,  and  that  its  operations  are  so  rapid  as  to  give  us  no  per- 
ception of  an   interval  of  time. 

"The  same  doctrine  leads  to  some  curious  conclusions  with  re- 
spect to  visi(jn.  Supj)ose  the  eye  to  be  fixed  in  a  particular  position, 
and  the  ])ictuie  of  an  object  to  be  painted  on  the  retina.  Does  the 
mind  perceive  the  complete  figure  of  the  object  at  once,  or  is  this 
jierception  the  result  of  the  various  perce])tions  we  have  of  the 
different  points  in  the  outline?  With  resj)ect  to  this  question, 
the  principles  already  stated  lead  me  to  conclude  that  the  mind 
does  at  one  and  the  same  time  ])erceive  every  point  in  the  outline  of 
the  object,  (i)rovided  the  whole  of  it  be  painted  on  the  retina  at 
the  same  instant,^  for  ])erception,  like  consciousness,  is  an  involun- 
tary operation.  As  no  two  ])oints,  however,  of  the  outline  are  in 
the  same  direction,  every  ]>oint  by  itself  constitutes  just  as  distinct 
an  object  of  attention  to  the  mind,  as  if  it  were  separated  by  an 
Interval  of  em]»ty  space  from  all  the  rest.  If  the  doctrine,  there- 
fore, formerly  stated  be  just,  it  is  impossible  for  the  mind  to  attend 
to  more  th.ni  one  of  these  ])oints  at  once;  and  as  the  perception 
of  the  figure  of  the  object  implies  a  knowledge  of  the  relative  situ- 
ation of  the  diffl'rent  points  with  respect  to  each  other,  we  must 
conclude  that  the  jierception  of  figure  by  the  eye  is  the  result  of 
a  number  of  (litl"erent  acts  of  attention.  These  acts  of  attention, 
however,  are  jterformed  with  such  rapidity,  that  the  effect,  with 
respect  to  us,  is  the  same  as  if  the  perception  were  instantaneous. 

"In  farther  confh-mation  of  this  reasoning,  it  may  be  remarked, 
that  if  the  perception  of  visible  figure  were  an  immediate  conse- 
quence of  the  picture  on  the  retina,  we  should  have,  at  the  first 
glance,  as  distinct  an  idea  of  a  figure  of  a  thousand  sides  as  of  a 
triangle  or  a  sipiare.  The  truth  i.s,  that  when  the  figure  is  very 
simple,  the  jirocess  of  the  nvind  is  so  rajdd  tliat  the  perce})tion 
seems  to  be  instantaneous;  hut  when  the  sides  are  multii)lied 
beyond  a  certain  numbei-,  the  interval  of  time  necessary  for  tht«e 
different   acts   of  ;ittciitii«ii    l)e<<>iiics   percejitible. 


168  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XIII. 

"  It  iriiiy,  perhaps,  be  asked  what  I  mean  by  a  point  in  the  outline 
of  a  figure,  and  what  it  is  that  constitutes  this  point  one  object  of 
attention.  The  ansAver,  I  apprehend,  is  that  this  ])oint  is  the  mini- 
rnuni  visibile.  If  the  point  be  less,  we  cannot  perceive  it;  if  it  be 
greater,  it  is  not  all  seen  in  one  direction. 

"If  these  observations  be  admitted,  it  will  follow  that,  without 
the  faculty  of  memory,  we  could  have  had  no  jierception  of  visible 
figure."  ^ 

On  this  ])oint.  Dr.  Brown  not  only  coincides  with  Mr.  Stewart 
in  regard  to  the  special  fact  of  attention,  but 

Brown     coiucides  ,      •  i   ^i     a.    ^i  •     t  .  •    ,       . 

.,,  ^^       ,  asserts  m  gern^ral  tiiat  tlie  mind  cannot  exist  at 

with  Stewart.  ^  ,  _ 

the  same  moment  in  tAvo  difterent  states,  that 
is,  in  two  states  in  either  of  which  it  can  exist  separately.  "  If  the 
mind  of  man,"  he  says,  "  and  all  the  changes  which  take  place  in 
it,  from  the  first  feeling  with  which  life  commenced  to  the  last  with 
which  it  closes,  could  be  made  visible  to  any  other  thinking  being,, 
a  certain  series  of  feelings  alone,  —  that  is  to  say,  a  certain  number 
of  successive  states  of  mind,  would  be  distinguishable  in  it,  form- 
ing indeed  a  variety  of  sensations,  and  thoughts,  and  jiassions,  as 
momentary  states  of  the  mind,  but  all  of  them  existing  individu- 
ally, and  successively  to  each  other.  To  suppose  the  mind  to 
exist  in  two  different  states,  in  the  same  moment,  is  a  matiifost 
absurdity." " 

I  shall  consider  these  statements  in  detail.      Mr.  Stewart's  first 

illustration  of  his  doctrine  is  drawn  from  a  con- 
Criticism  of  stew-       cert  of  music,  in  which,  he  says,  "  a  good  ear 
art's  doctrine.     His       ^^^^  ^^^^^^^^  ^^  ^j^^  different  parts  of  the  music 

nrst  illustration   irom  ^ 

the    phajnomena    of       Separately,   or  can  attend  to  them  all  at  once, 
souD'i.  and  feel  the  full  effect  of  the  harmony."     This 

example,  however,  appears  to  me  to  amount  to 
a  reduction  of  his  opinion  to  the  impossible.  What  are  the  facts 
in  this  exam})le?  In  a  musical  concert,  Ave  have  a  multitude  of, 
different  instruments  and  A'oices  emitting'  at  once  an  infinitA'  of 
different  sounds.  These  all  reach  the  ear  at  the  same  indivisible 
moment  in  Avhich  they  perish,  and,  consequentl}',  if  heard  at  all, 
much  more  if  their  mutual  relation  or  harmony  be  ]>erceiA'^ed,  they 
must  be  all  heard  simultaneously.  This  is  evident.  For  if  the 
mind  can  attend  to  each  minimum  of  sound  only  successiA^ely,  it, 
consequently,  requires  a  minimum  of  time  in  AA'hich  it  is  exclusively 
occupied  Avith  each  minimum  of  sound.     Noav,  in  this  minimum  of 


1  Eiements^Yol.  i.  cha.'p.  2.     Works,  \o\.  ii.  \t.  2  Lfrlnres   on   the    Pkilosojihy   of  the   Human 

140  —  14.5.  .i;/«r/,  Lect.  xi.  p.  67,  (ed.  18.30).  —Ed. 


Lect.  XIU.  METAPHYSICS.  l(;i> 

time,  there  coexist  witli  it,  and  with  it  perish,  many  minima  vt' 
sound  whicl),  ex  h}/jx)t/iesi,  are  not  perceived,  are  nut  heard,  as  not 
attended  to.  In  a  concert,  therefore,  on  tliis  doctrine,  a  small  num- 
ber of  sounds  only  could  be  perceived,  and  above  tliis  petty  maxi- 
mum, all  sounds  would  be  to  the  ear  as  zero.  But  wliat  is  the 
fact?  No  concert,  however  numerous  its  instruments,  has  yet  beeu 
found  to  have  reached,  far  less  to  have  surpassed,  the  capacity  of 
mind  and  its  organ. 

But  it  is  even  more  impossible,  on  tliis  hypothesis,  to  understand 

how  we   can  perceive  the   relation  of  difterent 

Impossible,  on  stew-       sounds,  that  is,  have  any  feeling  of  the  harmony 

art-s  doctrine,  to  uu-       ^^  ^  conccrt.     In  this  respcct,  it  is,  indeed,  felo 

derstand  how  we  can  _...,, 

perceive  the  relation  ^^^  ^^-  ^^  ^^  maintained  that  we  cannot  attend 
of  different  sounds.  at  oiice  to  two  sounds,  wc  caiinot  perceive  them 

as  coexistent,  —  consequently,  the  feeling  of  har- 
mony of  which  Ave  are  conscious,  must  proceed  from  the  feeling 
of  the  relation  of  these  sounds  as  successively  perceived  in  difterent 
points  of  time.  We  must,  therefore,  compare  the  past  sound,  as 
retained  in  memory,  witli  the  j^resent,  as  actually  ])erceived.  But 
this  is  impossible  on  the  hypothesis  itself.  For  we  must,  in  this 
case,  attend  to  the  past  sound  in  memory,  and  to  the  present  sound 
in  sense  at  once,  or  they  will  not  be  perceived  in  mutual  relation  ha 
harmonic.  But  one  sound  in  memory  and  another  sound  in  sense,, 
are  as  much  two  different  objects  as  two  different  sounds  in  sense. 
Therefore,  one  of  two  conclusions  is  inevitable,  —  either  we  can 
attend  to  two  different  objects  at  once,  and  the  hypothesis  is  dis- 
proved, or  we  cannot,  and  all  knowledge  of  relation  and  harmony 
is  im])OSsible,  which  is  absurd. 

The  consequences  of  this  doctnne  are  Cijually  startling,  as  taken 

from  ]\[r.  Stewart's  second  illustration  from  the 
His  second  iiiu.sfra-       phfenoiueiia  of  visiou.     He  holds  that  the  per- 

tion    from    the    pliK'-  .  .  i  ,> 

•no.nena  ..f  vision,  ccptiou  ot  hgurc  by  the  eye  IS  the  result   ot  :i 

number  of  separate  acts  of  attention,  and  that 
eacli  act  of  attention  has  for  its  object  a  point  the  least  that  can  be 
seen,  tlie  mlnhninii  visihile.  On  this  liyjiotlu'sis,  we  must  suppose 
that,  at  every  instantaneous  ()])eiiing  of  the  eyelids,  the  moment 
sufficient  for  us  to  take  in  the  figure  of  the  objects  comprehended 
in  the  s])here  of  vision,  is  subdivide<l  into  almost  infinitesimal  paiis, 
in  each  of  Avhich  a  separate  act  of  :it  tent  ion  is  performed.  Tliis 
is,  of  itself,  suffi(riently  inconceivable.  But  this  being  admitted,  no 
diffieulty  is  removed.  The  separate  aets  must  be  laid  up  in  memory,, 
in  imagination.      ]3ut  how  are  they  tliere  to  form  a  smgle  whole, 

22 


170  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XIII. 

unless  we  can,  in  imagination,  attend  to  all  the  minima  visibilia 
together,  which  in  perception  we  could  only  attend  to  severally  ? 
On  this  subject  I  shall,  however,  have  a  more  appropriate  occasion 
of  speaking,  when  I  consider  Mr.  Stewart's  doctrine  of  the  relation 
of  color  to  extension. 


J 


LECTUPtE     XIV. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,  — ATTENTION    IN    GENERAL. 

In  the  former  part  of  our  last  Lecture,  I  concluded  the  argu- 
ment against  Reid's  analysis  of  Consciousness 
"^   ^' "    '  ""  into    a   special   faculty,   and    showed  you   that, 

even  in  relation  to  Perception,  (the  ficulty  by  which  we  obtain  a 
knowledge  of  the  material  universe,)  Consciousness  is  still  the 
common  ground  in  which  every  cognitive  operation  has  its  root. 
I  then  proceeded  to  prove  the  same  in  regard  to  Attention.  After 
some  observations  touching  the  confusion  among  philoso])liers,  more 
or  less  extensive,  in  the  meaning  of  the  term  reflection^  as  a  sub- 
ordinate modilication  of  attention,  I  endeavored  to  e.xplain  to  yon 
what  attention  pi'operly  is,  and  in  what  relation  it  stands  to  con-' 
sciousness.  I  stated  that  attention  is  consciousness  applied  t<i  an 
act  of  will  or  desire  under  a  ])articular  law.  In  so  far  as  attention 
is  an  act  of  the  conative  faculty,  it  is  not  an  act  of  knowledge  at 
all,  for  the  mere  will  or  desire  of  knowing  is  not  an  act  of  cogni- 
tion. But  the  act  of  the  conative  faculty  is  exerted  by  relation  to 
a  certain  law  of  consciousness,  or  knowledge,  or  intelligence.  This 
law,  which  we  call  the  Law  of  Limitation,  is,  that  the  intension  of 
our  knowledge  is  in  tlu^  inverse  ratio  of  its  extension,  —  in  other 
words,  that  the  fewer  objects  we  consider  at^  once,  the  clearer  and 
more  distinct  will  be  our  knowledge  of  them.  Hence  the  more 
A  ividly  we  will  or  desire  that  a  certain  object  should  be  clearly  and 
distinctly  known,  the  more  do  we  concentrate  consciousiu'ss  tlircMigh 
some  special  faculty  upon  it.  I  omitted,  I  find,  to  state  that  I  think 
Reid  and  Stewart  incorrect  in  asserting  that  attention  is  only  a 
voluntary  act,  meaning  Ity  the  expression  voluntarif^  an  act  of  free- 
will.    I  am  far  from  maintaining,  as  Brown  and  others  do,  that  all 

will  is  desire;  but  still  T  am  persuaded  that  we 

Attrntion    po.^.sibie       .j,.^.   tK.,,,u,„tlv  determined   to  an   act   of  atten- 

without  an  actof  free-  .  '  •     i  i         i  - 

^.j,]  tion,   as  to   many  other  acts,  nidej^entlently  of 

our  free   and   deliberate  volition.      Nor  is   it,  1 
■conceive,  possible  to  hold  that,  though  immetliately  determined  to 


172  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XIV. 

an  act  of  attention  by  flesire,  it  is  only  by  the  permission  of  our 
will  that  this  is  done ;  consequently,  that  every  act  of  attention  is 
still  under  the  control  of  our  volition.  This  I  cannot  maintain. 
Let  us  take  an  exami)le :  —  When  occupied  with  other  matters,  a 
person  may  speak  to  us,  or  the  clock  may  strike,  without  our  hav- 
ing any  consciousness  of  the  sound;'  but  it  is  wholly  impossilile 
for  us  to  remain  in  this  state  of  unconsciousness  intentionally  and 
with  will.  We  cannot  determinately  refuse  to  hear  by  ^•oluntarily 
withholding  our  attention ;  and  we  can  no  more  open  our  eyes,, 
and,  by  an  act  of  will,  avert  our  mind  from  all  percejitiou  of  sight, 
than  we  can,  by  an  act  of  will,  cease  to  live.  We  may  close  our 
ears  or  shut  our  eyes,  as  we  may  commit  suicide;  but  we  cannot, 
Avith  our  organs  unobstructed,  wholly  i-efuse  our  attentioit  at  will. 
It,  therefore,  appears  to  me  the  more  correct  doctrine  to  hold  that 
there  is  no  consciousness  without  attention,  —  without  concentra- 
tion, but  that  attention  is  of  three  degrees  or  kinds.  The  first,  a 
-^  mere  vital  and  irresistible  act ;   the  second,  an 

Attention  of  three       ^^  determined  bv  desire,  wliich,  thouoh  i^\. 

degrees  or  knids.  '    ^  ^        — • 

untary,  may  be  resisted  by  our  will ;  the  third,, 
an  act  determined  by  a  deliberate  volition.  An  act  of  attention,  — 
that  is,  an  act  of  concentration,  —  seems  thus  necessary  to  every 
exertion  of  consciousness,  as  a  certain  contraction  of  the  pupil  is 
requisite  to  every  exercise  of  vision.  We  have  formerly  noticed, 
that  discrimination  is  a  condition  of  consciousness;  and  a  discrimi- 
nation is  only  possible  by  a  concentrative  act,  or  act  of  attention. 
This,  however,  which  corresponds  to  the  lowest  degree,  —  to  the 
mere  vital  or  automatic  act  of  attention,  has  been  refused  the  name^ 
and  attentioti,  in  contradistinction  to  this  mere  automatic  contrac- 
tion, given  to  the  tAvo  other  degrees,  of  which,  however,  Reid  only 
recognizes  the  third. 

Attention,  then,  is  to  consciousness,  Avhat  the  contraction  of  the 

pupil   is  to  sight ;  or  to  the  eye  of  the  mind,. 

Nature  and  ininoit-  laxi  •  .1.1  •xai.ii 

.    '  what  the  microscoi>e  or  telescope  is  to  the  bod- 

ance  of  attention.  _  ^  /         _ 

ilv  eye.  The  facultv  of  attention  is  not,  there- 
fore,  a  special  facidty,  but  merely  consciousness  acting  under  the  law 
of  limitation  to  which  it  is  subjected.  But  whatever  be  its  rela- 
tions to  the  special  faculties,  attention  doubles  all  their  efficiency^ 
and  affords  them  a  power  of  which  they  would  otherwise  be  des- 
titute. It  is,  in  fact,  as  we  are  at  present  constitute*!,  the  primary 
condition  of  their  activity. 

Having  thus  concluded  the  discussion  of  the  question  regarding 
the   relation  of  consciousness   to   the   other   cognitive  faculties,  I 

1  See  Reid,  yJrj/i,-«  PoK'frj,  Essay  ii.  ch.  3.     irortj,  p.  oST.  —  Ed. 


Lkct.  XIV.  METAPHYSICS.  173 

proceeded  to  consider  various  questions,  w  liich,  as  not  peculiar  to 

any  of  the  special  foculties,  fall  to  be  discussed 

Can  we   attend    to         under     the    head    of    consciousness,    and    I   corn- 
more  tlian  a  sinele  ob-  1        •   1      .1  •  11  -yxTi     A.I 

.    .    ,         ,  menced  witli  the  curious  i)robk'in,  Whether  we 

ject  at  once:  -^    _ 

can  attend  to  more  than  a  single  object  at  once. 
Mr.  Stewart  maintains,  though  not  without  hesitation,  the  nega- 
tive. I  endeavored  to  show  you  that  his  arguments  are  not  con- 
clusive, and  that  they  even  involve  suppositions  wliich  are  so  mon- 
strous as  to  reduce  the  thesis  ho  su])ports  ad  imposaibik.     I  ha\e 

now  only  to  say  a  word  in  answer  to  Dr.  Brown's 

Brown's    doctrine.       assertion  of  the  same  proposition,  though  in  dif- 

that  the  mind  cannot       feront  terms.     In  tlie  passage  I  adduced  in  our 

exist  at  the  same  mo-         i      ,     t       ^  i  v        a1  a- 

^  .    ,       ,.„.      .       last  Lecture,  he   commences   by  the  assertion, 

ment  in  two  different  '  _  *' 

jitates.  that  the   mind   cannot   exist,  at  the  same  mo- 

ment, in  two  different  states,  —  that  is,  in  two 
states  in  either  of  which  it  can  exist  separately,  and  concludes  with 
the  averment  that  the  contrary  supposition  is  a  manifest  absurdity. 

I  find  the  same  doctrine  maintained  by  Locke 
This  doctrine  main-       j^^  ^|^.^^  valuable,  but  ncglcctcd,  treatise  entitled 

tained  by  Locke.  .       ^-r  .         .  ..    x»v         ^r  i  i  7   ■>      ^    ■    ' — ) 

All' Examination  of  Fere  Malebranches  Optii-  f 
ion  of  Seeing  all  Things  in  God.  In  the  thirty-ninth  section  he 
savs:  "Different  sentiments  are  different  modifications  of  the  mind. 
The  mind  or  the  soul  that  perceives,  is  one  immaterial,  indivisible 
substance.  Now,  I  see  the  Avhite  and  black  on  this  paper,  I  hear 
one  sinsfinir  in  tlie  next  room,  I  feel  the  warmth  of  the  fire  I  sit  bv, 
and  I  taste  an  api)le  I  am  eating,  and  all  this  at  the  same  time. 
Now,  I  ask,  take  modification  for  what  you  please,  can  the  same 
unextended,  indivisible  substance  have  different,  nay,  inconsistent 
and  opposite,  (as  these  of  white  and  black  must  be,)  modifications 
nt  the  same  time?  Or  must  we  suppose  distinct  parts  in  an  indi- 
visible substance,  one  for  black,  another  for  white,  and  another  for 
red  ideas,  and  so  of  the  rest  of  those  infinite  sensaticms  which  wi- 
have  in  sorts  and  degrees  ;  all  which  we  can  distinctly  perceive, 
and  so  are  distinct  ideas,  some  whereof  are  o]>posite  as  heat  and 
cold,  which  vet  a  man  may  feel  at  the  same  time?"  Leibnitz  has 
not  only  given  a  refutation  of  Locke's  Essag^  but  likewise  of  liis 
Examination  of  Malehranda-.     In  reference  to  tlie  passage  I  havf 

just  quoted    Leibnitz   says :    "  Mr.  Locke  asks. 
Opposed  by  Leib-       ,^^^  ^j^^^  ^,^^^^  unextcuded,  indivisible  substance, 

iiitz.  ■  .... 

have  <liffercnt,  nay,  inconsistent  and  oj>])ositc 
modifications,  at  the  same  time?'  I  rej»ly,  it  can.  AViiat  is  incon- 
sistent in  the  same  object,  is  not  inconsistent  in  the  representation 
of  different  objects  which  Ave  conceive  at  the  same  moment.     For 


174  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XIV 

this  there  is  no  necessity  that  there  shoiikl  be  diiFerent  parts  in  the 
soul,  as  it  is  not  necessary  that  there  shoukl  be  difterent  parts  in 
the  point  on  which,  however,  different  angles  rest."^     The  same 

thing  had,  however,  been  even  better  said  by 

Aristotle  opposed  to       Aristotle,  wliosc  doctrine  I  prefer  translating  to 

foregoing  doctrine.  jou,  as  more  pcrspicuous,  in  the  following  pas- 

Ilis   view,    as  para-  _,  .  /■%     ^^        i 

phrased  by  Phiiopo-  ^agc  from  J  Danncs  Grammaticus,  (better  known 
BUS.  by  the  surname  Philoponus,)  —  a  Greek  philoso- 

pher, who  flourished  towards  the  middle  of  the 
sixth  century.  It  is  taken  from  the  Prologue  to  his  valuable  com- 
mentary on  the  De  Aniina  of  Aristotle  ;  and,  what  is  curious,  the 
very  sup])osition  which  on  Locke's  doctrine  would  infer  the  cor- 
poreal nature  of  mind,  is  alleged,  by  the  Aristotelians  and  Con- 
dillac,  in  proof  of  its  immateriality.  "  Nothing  bodily,"  says  Aris- 
totle, "  can,  at  the  same  time,  in  the  same  part,  receive  contraries. 
The  finger  cannot  at  once  be  wholly  participant  of  white  and  of 
l)lack,  nor  can  it,  at  once  and  in  the  same  place,  be  both  hot  and 
cold.  But  the  sense  at  the  same  moment  apprehends  contraries. 
Wherefore,  it  knows  that  this  is  first,  and  that  second,  and  that  it 
discriminates  the  black  from  the  white.  In  what  manner,  there- 
fore, does  sight  simultaneously  perceive  contraries?  Does  it  do  so 
by  the  same  ?  or  does  it  by  one  part  apprehend  black,  by  another 
white  ?  If  it  does  so  by  the  same,  it  must  aiiprehend  these  with- 
out pai-ts,  and  it  is  incorporeal.  But  if  by  one  part  it  apprehends 
this  quality,  and  by  another  that,  —  this,  he  says,  is  the  same  as 
if  I  perceived  this,  and  you  that.  But  it  is  necessary  that  that 
which  judges  should  be  one  and  the  same,  and  that  it  should  even 
apprehend  by  the  same  the  objects  which  are  judged.  Body  can- 
not, at  the  same  moment  and  by  the  same  part,  apply  itself  to  con- 
traries or  things  absolutely  different.  But  sense  at  once  applies 
itself  to  black  and  to  white ;  it,  therefore,  applies  itself  indivisibly. 
It  is  thus  shown  to  be  incorporeal.  For  if  by  one  part  it  a})}>re- 
hended  white,  by  another  j^art  apprehended  black,  it  could  not 
discern  the  one  color  from  the  other;  for  no  one  can  distinguish 
that  which  is  perceived  by  himself  as  different  from  that  which  is 
perceived  by  another."^     So  far,  Pliloponus. 

1  Remarques  siir  U  Sentiment  du  Fire  Male-  5jj  /cex'^'P"''/'**'''"^  fcSex""*"  Kplveiv  on  fT(- 
branche ;  Opera  Phitosophica,  edit.  Erdmann,  p.  pov  rh  y\vKV  rov  \fVKOV,  dAAa  Se?  ect  rivi 
451.  —Ed.  &ij.(p(t>  Sr)\a  elfai.     Olirw  fj.fv  yap  Kh.v  el  tov 

2  The  text  of  Aristotle  here  partially  par-  ^'ev  iyw  tov  6e  ah  aXaStow,  SrjKov  h.f  tiri  on 
aphrascd,  (Troffim,  f.  3b  cd.  1535),  and  more  4V«po  aWriKwy  AeTSe  rh  (i/  Keyeiv  on  eVe- 
fully  in  Commentary  on  texts,  144.  149,  is  as  pov-  frepov  y^p  rh  yAvKV  rod  \fVKOv.  Aeyei 
follows;— ''H  Kol  STjKou  Sri  t]  ffapf  ovK  ta-ri  &pa  rh  a\n6'  "Clffre  ws  Key  ft,  oD'toi  kolL  voel 
rh  (CTxaTov  ala^riipiov  avdyKT)  yap  ?jv  kou  alcrbiverai.  "Oti  fx.\v  ovv  ovx  ol6v  re  Ke- 
airrSfifuov  atrrov  Kpiveiv   rh  Kptvov.      Oifre  X'^f "'''^**'<"^  Kplvtiv  rh.  Kex<^pi<Tneva,  5^Xo» 


IjECT. 


XIV.  METAPHYSICS.  175 


Dr.  Brown  calls  the  sensation  of  sweet  one  mental  state,  the  .sen- 
sation of  cold  another ;  and  as  the  one  of  these 
Criticism  of  Brown's       ^^^^^^  ^^j^^  without  the  Other,  they  are  cor*- 

doctrine.  ,-,.^  r»  -ii-'i 

sequently  different  states,  but  will  it  be  raain- 
taiued  that  we  cannot,  at  one  and  the  same  moment,  feel  the 
sensations  of  sweet  and  cold,  or  that  sensations  forming  apart  differ- 
ent states,  do,  when  coexistent  in  the  same  subject,  form  only  a 
single  state  ? 

The  doctrine  that  the  mind  can  attend  to,  or  be  conscious  of,  only 
a   single    object    at   a  time,  would,  in  fact,  in- 
On  this  view  com-       ^^^^,^  ^^^   conclusion    that   all   comparison    ami 
parison  impossible.  ,  ■  i  i         i 

dif: crimination  are  impossible  ;  but  comparison 
and  discrimination  being  possible,  this  possibility  disproves  the  truth 
of  the  counter  proposition.  An  act  of  comparison  or  discrimination 
supposes  that  we  are  able  to  comprehend,  in  one  indivisible  con- 
sciousness, the  different  objects  to  be  compared  or  discriniinated. 
Were  I  only  conscious  of  one  object  at  one  time,  I  could  never 
possibly  bring  them  into  relation ;  each  could  be  apprehended  only 
separately,  and  for  itself  For  in  the  moment  in  wliich  I  am  con- 
scious of  the  object  A,  I  am,  ex  hypothesi.,  unconscious  of  the  object 
B  ;  Jtnd  in  the  moment  I  am  conscious  of  the  object  B,  I  am  uncon- 
scious of  the  object  A.  So  far,  in  fact,  from  consciousness  not  being 
competent  to  the  cognizance  of  two  things  at  once,  it  is  only 
possible  under  that  cognizance  as  its  condition.  For  without 
discrimination  there  could  be  no  consciousness  ;  and  discrimination 
necessarily  supposes  two  terms  to  be  discriminated. 

No  judgment  could  be  possible  were  not  the  subject  and  predicate 
of  a  proposition  thought  together  by  the  mind,  although  expressed 
in  language  one  after  the  other.  Xay,  as  Aristotle  has  observed,  a 
syllogism  forms  in  thought  one  simultaneous  act ; '  and  it  is  only  the 
necessity  of  retailing  it  piecemeal  and  by  succession,  in  order  to 
accommodate  thought  to  the  imi)erfection  of  its  vehicle,  language, 
that  afltbrds  the  ajipearance  of  a  consecutive  existence.  Some 
languages,  as  the  Sanscrit,  the  Latin,  and  the  Greek,  express  the 
syntactical  relations   by   flexion,    and    not  by  mere  juxtaposition. 

8ti  8*  01-5'  iv  Ktx'^piay^ivtf  xf^^'V-  ivtfv^tv.  the   relativt-  commentary  by  rhilopouiis. — 

'flTTfftp  ■yh.p  ^'b  avrh  \fyei  ori  fTepov,  rh  kya-  Ed. 

bhv  Kol  T^  KaKOv,  otirw  xal  1}T(  ddripov  \fyfi  1  Tliia  is  said  by  Aristotle  of  the  act  of  judg- 

Sti  fTf pof  Kol  ddrtpoi/,  oil  Kara.  (Tvfx^i^riKbi  miMit ;  but  the  remark  iiiiplics  to  tliat  of  rca- 

rhoTf  kfyoi   5",  alov  vvv  \iyu   '6ri  trtpov,  soiiinj;  also.     See   l)f  .■lni«((i,  iii.  6:     'Er    oij- 

oJ  fifvrot  (ill  vvf  (Tf pow.     ' A\K'  oijtw  \(yei,  Th  \\ifvSos  kcH  rh  i.\r)^ts,  ffvvd«ris  ris  ^o>) 

K(d  vvv,  Kol  8ti  h'j/'  fijua  &pa.      "ClaTf  A^^ci-       I'mjfiaTdiv  Sxnrfp  h'  ovtwi' Ti 

f.iffTOi'  Koi  fv  &xa>p'KTTa)  ypi^'-";'-       r>'  Animn,  Si  fv  ■noiovv,  TOUTO  6  vovi  tKOUTrov.  — Ed. 
lib.  iii.  c.  2, 4  11.    Cf.  §»  9, 10, 12,  13,  14,  with 


176  ilKT  APH  YSICS.  Lect.  XIV 

Their  sentences  are  thus  bound  up  in  one  organic  whole,  the  prece 
ding  parts  remaining  suspended  in  the  mind,  till  the  meaning,  like 
an  electric  spark,  is  flashed  from  the  conclusion  to  the  commence- 
ment. This  is  the  reason  of  the  greater  rhetorical  effect  of  termin- 
ating the  Latin  period  by  the  verb.  And  to  take  a  more  elementary 
example,  —  "How  could  the  mind  comprehend  these  words  of 
Horace, 

'Bacchum  in  remotis  carmina  rupibus 
Vidi  docentem,' 

unless,  it  could  seize  at  once  those  images  in  which  the  adjectives 
are  separated  fi-ora  their  substantives  ?  "  ^ 

The  modem  philosophers  who  have  agitated  this  question,  are  not 
aware  that  it  was  once    canvassed   likewise  in 

This  question  can-       ^j^g   schools   of  the  middle  ages.     It  was  there 

vassed  in  the  schools  i  i         i  •   •  r,  •        n 

of  the  middle  ao-es  expressed  by  the  proposition,  Jrossitne  intellectus 

noster  jylura  simul  intellicfere.  ^  Maintaining 
the  negative,  we  find  St.  Thomas,  Cajetanus,  Ferrariensis,  Capri- 
olus,  Hervaeus,  Alexander  Alensis,  Albertus  Magnus,  andDurandus; 
Avhile  the  affirmative  was  asserted  by  Scotus,  Occam,  Gregorius 
Ariminensis,  Lichetus,  Marsilius,  Biel,  and  others. 

Supposing  that  the  mind  is  not  limited  to  the  simultaneous  con- 
sideration of  a  single  object,  a  question  arises, 
How  many  objects       How   mauv   objects   can  it  embrace    at   once  ? 

can  the  mind  embrace  -n    *  t,  i  t    ^  i  t     i 

^j  jjj^gg ,  You   Will   recollect  that  1  formerly  stated  that 

the  greater  the  number  of  objects  among 
which  the  attention  of  the  mind  is  distiibuted,  the  feebler  and  less 
distinct  will  be  its  cognizance  of  each. 


'o 


"  Pluribus  intentus,  minor  est  ad  singula  sensus." 

Consciousness  will  thus  be  at  its  maximum  of  intensity  when 
attention  is  concentrated  on  a  single  object ;  and  the  question  comes 
to  be,  liow  many  .several  objects  can  the  mind  simultaneously 
survey,  not  with  vivacity,  but  without  absolute  confusion  ?  I  find 
this  problem  stated  and  differently  answered,  by  different  philoso- 
'phers,  and  apparently  without  a  knowledge  of  each  other.  By 
Charles  Bonnet^  the  mind  is  allowed  to  have  a  distinct  notion  of 


i  [Bonstetten,  Eludes  de  V  Homme,  torn.  ii.  i.  c.  22,  p.  134,  fol.  a  (ed.  Aid.)  Nemesius.  De 
p.  377,  note.]  Natura  Hominis,  c.  vii.  p.  184  —  ed.  Mattha;i.! 

3  [Essai   de   Psychologies  c.  xxxviii.  p.   132 

2  [See  Aquinas,  Summa,  pars  i.,  Q.  85.  art.  Compare  his  Etsai  Annlytique  sur  I'  Ame,  torn 
4.     Cf.  Alex.  Aphrodisiensis,  De  Anima,  lib.       i.  c.  xiii.  p.  163  et  seq.\ 


Lect.  XIV.  METAPHYSICS.  177 

■six  objects  at  once;  by  Abraham  Tucker'  the  number  is  Hmitcd  to 
four;  wliile  Destutt-Tracy  -  again  amplifies  it  to  six.  The  opinion 
of  the  first  and  last  of  these  philosophers,  apj^ears  to  me  correct. 
You  can  easily  make  the  experiment  for  yourselves,  but  you  must 
beware  of  grouping  the  objects  into  classes.  If  you  throw  a  hand- 
ful of  marbles  on  the  floor,  you  will  find  it  difficult  to  view  at  once 
more  than  six,  or  seven  at  most,  without  confusion;  but  if  you 
group  tlieni  into  twos,  or  threes,  or  fives,  you  can  comprehend  as 
many  groups  as  you  can  units ;  because  the  mind  considers  these 
groups  only  as  units,  —  it  views  them  as  wholes,  and  throws  their 
parts  out  of  consideration.  You  may  perform  the  experiment  also 
by  an  act  of  imagination. 

Before  leaving  this  subject,  I  shall  make  some  observations  on 
the  value  of  attention,  considered  in  its  highest  degree  as  an  act  of 
will,  and  on  the  imj)ortance  of  forming  betimes  the  habit  of  delib- 
erate concentration. 

The  g!-eater  capacity  of  continuous  thinking  that  a  man  jjos- 
sesses,  the  longer  and  more  steadily  can  he  fol- 

Vaiue  of  attei.fiou       Jq^  ^y^  ^;\^q  ganie  train  of  thought, —  the  stronger 

■considered  ill  its  liiarli-         •     i  •  /•     ^^       ,•  -i    • 

,       is  his  power  of  attention ;  and  in  proportion  to 

est  degree  as  au    act  '■  '  I       1  ^   '^  ""    "-^ 

<,r  will.  his  power  of  attention  will  be  the  success  with 

which  his  labor  is  rewarded.  All  commence- 
ment is  difficult;  and  this  is  more  especially  true  of  intellectuid 
effort.  AVhen  we  turn  for  the  first  time  our  view  on  any  given 
•object,  a  hundred  other  things  still  retain  possession  of  our  thoughts. 
Even  when  we  are  able,  by  au  arduous  exertion,  to  break  loose  from 
the  matters  which  have  previously  engrossed  us,  or  which  every 
moment  force  themselves  on  our  consideration,  —  even  when  a 
resolute  determin.ition,  or  the  attraction  of  the  new  object,  has 
smoothed  the  way  on  which  we  are  to  travel;  still  the  mind  is  con- 
tinually ])erplexed  by  the  glimmer  of  intrusive  and  distracting 
thoughts,  which  prevent  it  from  placing  that  which  should  exclu- 
sively occupy  its  view,  in  the  full  clearness  of  an  undivided  light. 
How  great  soever  may  be  the  interest  which  we  take  in  the  new 
object,  it  will,  however,  only  be  fully  established  as  a  favorite 
when  it  his  been  fused  into  an  integial  part  of  the  system  of  our 
previous  knowledge,  and  of  our  established  associations  of  thoughts, 
feelings,  and  desires.  But  this  can  only  ])e  accomplished  by  time 
and  custom.     Our  imagination  and  our  memory,  to  which  we  must 


L. 


1  [Light  of  Nature,  c.  xiv.  §  5.]  hert,  Melanges,  vol.  iv.  pp.  40,  151.     Ancillon, 

2  [tli'oUf^ie,  toiii.  i.  p.  45.3  (oinpHre  Do>j-  Nouveaux  Mi'langrs.  torn  ii.  p.  135.  Male- 
«rando,  Dt.\  Sii^nm,  i.  107,  who  allows  us  to  braiiclic,  Recherche,  liv.  iii.  c.  2,  torn.  i.  p.  191.] 
embrace,  at  one  vii'w,  live  unities.    D'Alem- 

23 


178  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XIV. 

resort  for  materials  with  which  to  ilhxstrate  and  enliven  our  new 
study,  accord  us  their  aid  unwillingly,  —  indeed,  only  by  compul- 
sion. But  if  we  are  vigorous  enough  to  pursue  our  course  in  spite 
of  obstacles,  every  step,  as  we  advance,  will  be  found  easier ;  the 
mind  becomes  more  animated  and  energetic ;  the  distractions  grad- 
ually diminish ;  the  attention  is  more  exclusively  concentrated 
upon  its  object;  the  kindred  ideas  flow  with  greater  freedom  and 
abundance,  and  afford  an  easier  selection  of  what  is  suitable  for 
illustration.  At  length,  our  system  of  thought  harmonizes  with 
our  pursuit.  The  whole  man  becomes,  as  it  may  be,  philosopher, 
or  historian,  or  poet ;  he  lives  only  in  the  trains  of  thought  relating 
to  this  character.  He  now  energizes  freely,  and,  consequently, 
with  pleasure ;  for  pleasure  is  the  reflex  of  unforced  and  unim})eded 
energy.  All  that  is  produced  in  this  state  of  mind,  bears  the  stamp 
of  excellence  and  perfection.  Ilelvetius  justly  observes,  that  the 
very  feeblest  intellect  is  capable  of  comprehending  the  inference 
of  one  mathematical  position  from  anotlier,  and  even  of  making 
such  an  inference  itself.'  Now,  tlie  most  difticult  and  complicate 
demonstrations  in  the  works  of  a  Newton  or  a  LajJace,  are  all  made 
up  of  such  immediate  inferences.  They  are  like  houses  composed 
of  single  bricks.  No  greater  exertion  of  intellect  is  required  to 
make  a  thousand  such  inferences  than  is  requisite  to  make  one ;  as 
the  effort  of  laying  a  single  brick  is  the  maximum  of  any  individual 
effort  in  the  construction  of  such  a  house.  Thus,  the  difference 
between  an  ordinary  mind  and  the  mind  of  a  Newton,  consists 
principally  in  this,  that  the  one  is  capable  of  the  application  of  a 
more  continuous  attention  than  the  other,  —  that  a  Newton  is  able 
without  fatigue  to  connect  inference  with  inference  in  one  long 
series  towards  a  determinate  end;  while  the  man  of  inferior  capacity 
is  soon  obliged  to  break  or  let  fall  the  thread  which  he  had  begun 

to  spin.     This  is,  in  fact,  what  Sir  Isaac,  with 

Sir  Isaac  Newton.  ,  .,      ^  ,      ,  ,  i  '         i£>      i      -i. 

equal  modesty  and  shrewdness,  himselr  admit- 
ted. To  one  who  comjjlimented  him  on  his  genius,  he  replied  that 
if  he  had  made  any  discoveries,  it  was  owing  more  to  patient  atten- 
tion than  to  any  other  talent.^  There  is  but  little  analogy  between 
mathematics  and  play-acting;  but  I  heard  the  great  Mrs.  Siddons, 
in  nearly  the  same  language,  attribute  the  whole  superiority  of  her 
unrivalled  talent  to  the  more  intense  study  which  she  bestowed 
upon  her  parts.     If  what  Alcibiades,  in  the  Symposium^  of  Plato, 

narrates  of  Socrates  were  true,  the   father   of 
Greek  philosophy  must  have  possessed  this  fac- 
ulty of  meditation  or  continuous  attention  in  the  highest  degrea 

1  i)«  J' Ej;>rit  — DiscourP  iij.  C.  iv.  — En  2  See  Reid's  Wnrkf.-p  537  3  P.  220  —Ed. 


Lect.  XIV.  METAPHYSICS.  179 

The  story,  indeed,  has  some  appearance  of  exaggeration ;  but  it 
shows  what  Alcibiades,  or  rather  Plato  through  him,  deemed  tlie 
requisite  of  a  groat  thinker.  According  to  this  report,  in  a  mih- 
tary  exi)edition  which  Socrates  made  along  with  Alcibiade.s,  the 
philosopher  was  seen  by  the  Athenian  array  to  stand  for  a  whole 
day  and  a  night,  until  the  breaking  of  the  second  morning,  motion- 
less, Avith  a  fixed  gaze,  —  thus  showing  that  he  was  uninterrui)tedly 
engrossed  with  the  consideration  of  a  single  subject:  "And  thus," 
says  Alcibiades,  "  Socrates  is  ever  wont  to  do  when  his  mind  is 
occupied  with  inquiries  in  which  there  are  difficulties  to  be  over- 
come, lie  then  never  interrupts  his  meditation,  and  forgets  to  eat, 
and  drink,  and  sleep,  —  everything,  in  short,  until  his  inquiry  has 
reached  its  termination,  or,  at  least,  until  he  has  seen  some  light  in 
it."     In  this  history  there  may  be,  as  I  have  said,  exaggeration ; 

but  still  the  truth  of  the  principle  is  undeniable. 

Like  Newton,  Descartes  arrogated  nothing  to 

the  force  of  his  intellect.     "What  he  had  accomplished  more  than 

other  men,  that  he  attributed  to  the  superiority  of  his  method;^ 

and  Bacon,  in  like  manner,  eulogizes  his  method. 

Bacon.  ....  ,,  .   !"  . 

—  in  that  it  i)laces  all  men  with  equal  attention 
upon  a  level,  and  leaves  little  or  nothing  to  the  prerogatives  of 
genius.-     Nay,  genius  itself  has  been  analyzed  by  the  shrewdest 

observers   into   a  higher  capacity  of  attention. 

Helvetius.  „       .       ,,  tt   i         •  i 

"  Genius,  says  Helvetius,  wiiom  we  have  al- 
ready quoted,  "is  nothing  but  a  continued  attention,"  (^une  atten- 
tion suicie)?  "Genius,"  says  Buftbn,*  "is  only 
a  protracted  patience,"  {tine  lonyue  patience). 
"In  the  exact  sciences,  at  least,"  says  Cuvier,* 
"it  is  the  patience  of  a  sound  intellect,  when  invincible,  which  truly 

constitutes  genius."     And  Chesterfield  has  also 

Chesterfield.  i      ^         ,,    -k  /*  i    • 

observed,  that  "  the  power  or  applying  an  atten- 
tion, steady  and  nndissipated,  to  a  single  object,  is  the  sure  mark 
of  a  superior  genius.'"' 

These  examples  and  authorities  concur  in  establishing  the  impor- 
tant truth,  that  he  who  would,  with  success,  attem]>t  discovery,  eitlier 
l)y  inquiry  into  the  works  of  nature,  or  by  meditation  on  llu- 
phenomena  of  mind,  must  Mccpiire  the  faculty  of  ab.stracting  him- 
self, for  a  season,  IVum  the  invasion  of  surrounding  ol)jects ;  must  be 

1  DijtfOttri  rf<r  7a  ^frMorfe,  p.  1.  —  Ed.  t  Elogf  Historiqiie  ilr  M.    Hatly,  quoted   by 

o   «r        r,        1-1.    •        >    u^        T,'„  TousMint,  De  hi  /'(n.si'f.t,  11.  219.1 

2  Nov.  Org.,  lib.  I.  aph.  61.  — Kd.  '  '  i  j 

fi  I^ttrrs  to  his  Son.     Letter  Ixxxix.     [Com- 

3  De  r  Esprit,  Discours  iii.  chap.  iv.  —  Ed.         ^^^^  Bonnet,  Baai  Annlytique,  torn,  i  ,  pn-face, 
•»  [Quoted  by  Ponelle,  Manuel,  p.  371.]  p.  8.) 


180  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XIV 

able  even,  in  a  certain  degree,  to  emancipate  himself  from  the  domin- 
ion of  the  body,  and  live,  as  it  were,  a  pure  intelligence,  within  the 

circle  of  his  thoughts.     This  f-iculty  has  been 
instancesof  thepow-       j^anifested.  more  or  less,  by  all  whose  names  are 

er  of  Abstraction.  '  r     i        •         n 

associated  with  the  progress  of  the  intellectual 
sciences.  In  some,  indeed,  the  power  of  abstraction  almost  degen- 
erated into  a  habit  akin  to  disease,  and  the  examples  which  now 
occur  to  me,  would  almost  induce  me  to  retract  what  I  have  said 
about  the  exaggeration  of  Plato's  history  of  Socrates, 

Archimedes,^  it  is  well  known,  was  so  absorbed  in  a  geometrical 

meditation,  that  he  was  fii'st  aware  of  the  storm- 

ing  of  Syracuse  by  his  own  death-wound,  and 
his  exclamation  on  the  entrance  of  Roman  soldiers  was,  —  Noli 
turbare  circulos  meos.     In  like  manner,  Joseph  Scaliger,  the  most 

learned  of  men,  when  a  Protestant  student  in 

Joseph  Scaliger.  t-»      •  i    •      ^i-        ^     i         r  HT 

Pans,  was  so  engrossed  in  the  study  oi  Homer, 
that  he  became  aware  of  the  massacre  of  St.  Bartholomew,  and  of 
his  own  escajje,  only  on  the  day  subsequent  to  the  catastrophe.    The 

iDhilosopher  Caraeades^  was  habitually  liable  to 

Carneades.  n         n  ^-       •  n         i      i 

ntsoi  meditation,  so  proiound,  that,  to  prevent 
him  from  sinking  from  inanition,  his  maid  found  it  necessary  to  feed 

him  like  a  child.     And  it  is  reported  of  New- 

ton,  that,  while  engaged  in  his  mathematical 
researches,  he  sometimes  forgot  to  dine.     Cardan,^  one  of  the  most 

illustrious  of  philosophers  and  mathematicians. 

Cardan.  .  i  •       i  i         i 

was  once,  upon  a  journey,  so  lost  in  thought,  that 
he  forgot  both  his  way  and  the  object  of  his  journey.  To  the  ques- 
tions of  his  driver  whither  he  should  proceed,  he  made  no  answer ; 
and  when  he  came  to  himself  at  nightfall,  he  was  surprised  to  find 
the  carriage   at  a  stand-still,  and  directly  under  a  gallows.     The 

mathematician  Vieta  was  sometimes  so  buried 

in   meditation,   that   for    hours   he   bore    more 

resemblance  to  a  dead  person  than  to  a  living,  and  was  then  wholly 

unconscious  of  everything  going  on  around  him.     On  the  day  of 

his  marriage,  the  great  Budaeus  forgot   every- 
thing in  philological   speculations,  and  he  was 
only  awakened  to  the  affairs  of  the  external  world   by  a  tardy 
embassy  from  the  marriage-party,  who  found  him  absorbed  in  the 
composition  of  his  Cominentarii. 

It  is  beautiftilly  observed  by  Malebranche,  "  that  the  discovery  of 

1  See  Valerius  Maximus,  lib.  viii.  c.  7. —Ed.  3  /6td.,  lib.  viii.  c.7.— Ed. 

8  [Steeb,  ijbtr  den  Menschen,  ii.  671  ] 


Lkct.  XIV.  METAPHYSICS.  ISi 

trutVi  can  only  be  matle  by  the  labor  of  attention;  because  it  is  only 

the  labor  of   attention   which    has  litrht  for  its 
MaiebranchcM noted       reward;"^   and  in  another  place  : "    "  The  atten- 

on  place    aud    impor-  r-    ^^  •    ^    ^^      j.     •  ^         i  i 

,  ,,    ^.  tion   of  the    intellect   is   a   natural   prayer  by 

tunce  of  attention.  _  _  i       j  j 

which  Ave  obtain  the  enlightennu'iit  of  reason. 
But  since  the  fall,  the  intellect  frequently  experiences  appalling 
drout^hts;  it  cannot  pray;  the  labor  of  attention  fotigues  and  afflicts 
it.  In  flict,  this  labor  is'  at  first  great,  and  the  recompense  scanty ; 
while,  at  the  same  time,  we  are  unceasingly  solicited,  pressed,  agi- 
tated by  the  imagination  and  the  ])assions,  whose  inspiration  and 
impulses  it  is  always  agreeable  to  obey.  Nevertheless,  it  is  a  matter 
of  necessity;  we  must  invoke  reason  to  be  enlightened  ;  there  is  no 
other  way  of  obtaining  light  and  intelligence  but  l)y  the  labor  of 
attention.  Faith  is  a  gift  of  God  which  we  earn  not  by  our  merits  ; 
but  intelligence  is  a  gift  usually  only  conceded  to  desert.  Faith  is 
a  pure  grace  in  every  sense ;  but  the  understanding  of  a  truth  is  a 
grace  of  such  a  character  that  it  must  be  merited  by  labor,  or  by  the 
cooperation  of  grace.  Those,  then,  who  are  ca])able  of  this  labor, 
and  who  are  always  attentive  to  the  truth  which  ought  to  guide 
them,  have  a  disposition  which  would  undoubtedly  deserve  a  name 
more  masrnificent  than  those  bestowed  on  the  most  si)lendid  virtues. 
But  although  this  habit  or  this  virtue  be  inseparable  from  the  love 
of  order,  it  is  so  little  known  among  us  that  I  do  not  know  if  we 
have  done  it  the  honor  of  a  particular  name.  May  I,  therefore,  be 
pardoned  in  calling  it  by  the  equivocal  name  of  force  of  intcnect. 
To  acquire  this  true  force  by  which  the  intellect  su))ports  the  lab<ir 
of  attention,  it  is  necessary  to  begin  betimes  to  labor ;  for,  in  the 
course  of  nature,  we  can  only  acquire  habits  by  acts,  and  can  only 
strengthen  them  by  exercise.  But  jierhaps  the  only  difficulty  is  to 
begin.  We  recollect  that  we  began,  and  that  we  were  obliifcd  to 
leave  off.  Hence  we  get  discourageil  ;  we  think  ourselves  unfit  for 
meditation  ;  we  renounce  reason.  If  this  be  the  case,  whatever  we 
may  allege  to  justify  our  sloth  and  negligence,  we  renounce  virtue, 
at  least  in  )>art.  For  without  the  labor  of  attention,  we  shall  never 
comju-ehend  the  grandeur  of  religion,  the  sanctity  of  morals,  tlic 
littleness  of  all  that  is  not  God,  the  absurdity  of  the  passions,  and 
of  all  our  internal  miseries.  Without  this  labor,  the  soul  will  live 
in  blindness  and  in  disorder;  because  there  is  naturally  no  other 
way  to  obtain  the  light  that  should  conduct  us  ;  we  shall  be  eternally 
under  disquietude  and  in  strange  embarrassment;  for  we  fear  every- 
thing when  Ave  walk  in  tlarkness  and  surrounded  by  precipices.  It 
is  true  that  faith  guides  and  sujijiorts;  but   it  does  so  only   as   it 

1   Traitfdf  Moral",  partif  i   cliap.  \  i.  j  1.  -  Ihul..  partiei.  chap.  v.  ^  4.  —  Et>. 


182  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XIV. 

produces  some  light  by  the  attention  which  it  excites  in  us ;  for 
light  alone  is  what  can  assure  minds,  like  ours,  which  have  so  many 
enemies  to  fear." 

I  have  translated  a  longer  extract  than  I  intended  when  I  began  ; 

but  the  truth  and  importance  of  the  observations 

study  of  the  writ-       .^^.^  ^^  OT-eat,  and  they  are  so  admirably  expressed 

ings    of  Malebranche         .       , ,   f ,  ,     ,  .    .      .      ,  ,  \      \ 

recommended.  ^^  JVl  ale  bran  chcs  own   inmiitable  style,  that  it 

was  not  easy  to  leave  oflT.  They  are  only  a  frag- 
ment of  a  very  valuable  chapter  on  the  subject,  to  which  I  would 
earnestly  refer  you,  —  indeed,  I  may  take  this  opportunity  of  saying, 
that  there  is  no  philosophical  author  who  can  be  more  profitably  stud- 
ied than  Malebranche.  As  a  thinker,  he  is  perhaps  the  most  profound 
that  France  has  ever  produced,  and  as  a  writer  on  philosophical  sub- 
jects, there  is  not  another  European  author  who  can  be  placed  before 
him.  His  style  is  a  model  at  once  of  dignity  and  of  natural  ease  ; 
and  no  metaphysician  has  been  able  to  express  himself  so  clearly  and 
precisely  without  resorting  to  technical  and  scholastic  terms.  That 
he  was  the  author  of  a  celebrated,  but  exploded  hypothesis,  is,  per- 
haps, the  reason  why  he  is  far  less  studied  than  he  otherwise  deserves. 
His  works  are  of  principal  value  foi"  the  admirable  observations  on 
human  nature  which  they  embody ;  and  Avere  everything  to  be 
expunged  from  them  connected  with  the  Vision  of  all  things  in  the 
Deity,  and  even  with  the  Cartesian  hypotheses  in  general,  they  would 
still  remain  an  inestimable  treasury  of  the  acutest  analyses,  expressed 
in  the  most  appropriate,  and,  therefore,  the  most  admirable  elo- 
quence. In  the  last  respect,  he  is  only  approached,  certainly  not 
surpassed,  by  Hume  and  Mendelssohn. 

I  have  dwelt  at  greater  length  upon  the  practical  bearings  of 
Attention,  not  only  because  this  principle  constitutes  the  better  half 
of  all  intellectual  poAver,  but  because  it  is  of  consequence  that  you 
should  be  fully  aware  of  the  incalculable  importance  of  acquiring, 
by  early  and  continued  exercise,  the  habit  of  attention.  There  are, 
however,  many  points  of  great  moment  on  which  I  have  not  touched, 
and  the  dependence  of  Memory  upon  Attention  might  alone  form 
an  interestinc:  matter  of  discussion.  You  will  find  some  excellent 
observations  on  this  subject  in  the  first  and  third  volumes  of  Mr. 
Stewart's  Elements} 

1  See  Works,  ii. ;   Elements,  i.  p.  122  et  ««9.,andp.  352.  —  Ed. 

0 


LECTURE    XY. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,  — ITS    p:VIDENCE    AND    AUTHORITY. 

Having  now  concluded  tlie  discussion  in  regard  to  what  Con- 
sciousness is,  and  shown   you  tliat  it  constitutes  tlie  fundamental 

form  of  every  act  of  knowledge  ;  —  I  now  pro- 
Coiisciousne.s   the       ^^^^^.  ^^^  consider  it  as  the  source  from  wlience 

source  of  I'liilosdpliy.  .  /.  •         i        t>i  -i  i  « 

wi'  must  derive  every  tact  m  the  I'hilosophy  of 
Mind.  And,  in  prosecution  of  this  purpose,  I  shall,  in  the  first 
place,  endeavor  to  show  you  that  it  really  is  the  princi])al,  if  not  the 
only  source,  from  which  all  knowledge  of  tlie  mental  phasnomcna 
must  be  obtained  ;  ^  in  the  sec<)nd  place,  I  shall  consider  the  char- 
acter of  its  evidence,  and  what,  under  different  relations,  are  the 
different  degrees  of  its  authority  ;  and,  in  the  last  place,  I  shall  state 
what,  and  of  what  nature,  are  the  more  general  ])hffinomena  which 
it  reveals.  Having  terminated  these,  I  shall  then  descen<l  to  the 
consideration  of  the  special  faculties  of  knowledge,  that  is,  to  tlie 
particular  modifications  of  which  consciousness  is  susceptible. 

We  proceed  to  consider,  in  the  first  place,  the  authority,  —  the 

certaintv  of  this  instrument.     Now,  it  is  at  once 

The   possibility   of       evident,  that  philosophy,  as  it  affirms  its  own 

Philosophy  impliestlie  •i.-t^  j.      £c  ^\  'j.  £• 

.      \.  nossibilitv,   must  amrm   tlie  veracity  ot  consci- 

veracity  of  coii.cious-         ^  '  _  ... 

negg.  ousness ;  for,  as  j)hilosophy  is  only  a  scientific 

develoj)ment  of  the  facts  whicli  consciousness 
reveals,  it  follows,  that  philosophy,  in  denying  or  doubting  the  tes- 
timony of  consciousness,  wouhl  deny  or  doubt  its  own  existence. 
If,  therefore,  philosophy  be  xuttfelo  de  se,  it  must  not  invalidate  the 

1  Under  the  head  liere  specified,  tlie  Author  the  NervouB  System,  and  that  the  doctrine, 

occasionally  dclivcreil  from  the  Chair  three  or  doctrines,  which  found  upon  the  siiiiposcd 

lectures,  which  contiiineil  "  a  summary  view  parallelism    of  liruiii    aixl  mind,  are,  as   far 

of  the  nervous  system  in  the  hifiher  animals,  as  observation  extends,  wholly  groundless." 

more  especially  in  man;  and  a  statement  of  These  lectures,  as  foreign  in  their  details  from 

some  of  the  results  obtained  [liy   him]  from  the  general  subject  of  llu' Course,  are  omitti'^l 

«u  extensive  and  accurate  induction  on  the  in   the  jjresent  publication.     A  general  sum- 

Bize  of  the  Kncophalus  and  its  principal  parts,  mary  of  the  principal  conclusions  to  which 

both  iu  man  and  the  lower  animals,  —  serv-  the  researches  of  the  Author  on  this  subject 

Ing  to  prove  that  no  assistance  is  afforded  to  conducted  him,  will   be  found  in  Appendix 

Mental   I'liilo^ophy  by  the   examination   nf  II.  —  Ed. 


184  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XV. 

integrity  of  that  Avhich  is,  as  it  wei-c,  the  heart,  the  jyuncticni  saliens, 
of  its  being;  and  as  it  would  actively  maintain  its  own  credit,  it 
must  be  able  jjositively  to  vindicate  the  truth  of  consciousness  :  for,, 
as  Lucretius  ^  well  observes. 

"  .  .  .  Ut  in  Fabrica,  si  prava  est  Regula  prima, 
Normaque  si  fallax  rectis  rcf;'ioiiibus  exit, 
Omnia  mendose  fieri,  atqiie  obstipa  necessum  est; 
Sic  if^itur  Ratio  tilii  rcrum  prava  necesse  est, 
Falsaqiie  sit,  falsis  quaecunque  ab  Sensibus  orta  est." 

And  Leibnitz^  truly  says, —  "If  our  immediate  internal  experience 
could  possibly  deceive  us,  there  could  no  longer  be  for  us  any  truth 
of  fact  (verite  de  fait),  nay,  nor  any  truth  of  reason  {verite  cle 
raison^r 

So  far  there  is,  and  can  be,  no  dispute  ;  if  j)hilosoj)hy  is  possible, 
the  evidence  of  consciousness  is  aiithentic.  No  philosopher  denies 
its  authority,  and  even  the  Skeptic  can  only  attempt  to  show,  on 
the  hypothesis  of  the  Dogmatist,  that  consciousness,  as  at  variance 
with  itself,  is,  therefore,  on  that  hyjiothesis,  mendacious. 

But  if  the  testimony  of  consciousness  be  in  itself  confessedly 
above  all  suspicion,  it  follows,  that  we  inquire  into  the  conditions 
or  laws  which  regulate  the  legitimacy  of  its  applications.  The  con- 
scioiis  mind  being  at  once  the  source  from  which  we  must  derive 
our  knowledge  of  its  phaenomena,  and  the  mean  througli  which  that 
knowledge  is  obtained,  Psychology  is  only  an  evolution,  by  consci- 
ousness, of  the  facts  which  consciousness  itself  reveals.  As  eveiy 
system  of  Mental  Philosophy  is  thus  only  an  ex})osition  of  these 
facts,  every  such  system,  consequently,  is  true  and  comjjlete,  as  it 
fairly  and  fully  exhibits  what,  and  what  only,  consciousness  ex- 
hibits. 

But,  it  may  be  objected,  —  if  consciousness  be  the  only  revela- 
tion we  possess  of  our  intellectual  nature,  and 
Oousciousness,  as  the       jf  consciousness  be    also  the  sole   criterion  by 

criterion    of   philoso-  i  •    i.  -a.  ^    ^i  •  c       ^     ^ 

,/     .  which  we   can  interpret  the  meanino:  of  what 

phy,    naturally    clear  ^  _  ^  ^  _  ^ ^ 

»iid  unerring.  tliis    rcvclation  contaiiis,   this   rcA'elation   must 

be  very  obscure,  —  this  criterion  must  be  very 
uncertain,  seeing  that  the  various  systems  of  philosophy  all  equally 
appeal  to  this  revelation  and  to  this  criterion,  in  suj)port  of  the 
most  contradictory  opinions.  As  to  the  fact  of  the  variety  and  con- 
tradiction of  philosophical  systems,  —  this  cannot  be  denied,  and  it 
is  also  true  that  all  these  systems  either  openly  profess  allegiance  to 

1  De  Rerum  Natura,  lib.  v.  516.  2  Noiivnux  EsMus,  lib.  ii.  c.  27,  §  13.  —Ed. 


Lect.   XV.  METAPHYSICS.  1«.> 

consciousness,  or  silently  confess  its  authority.  But  admitting  :tll 
this,  I  am  still  bold  enough  to  maintain,  that  consciousness  affords 
not  merely  the  only  revelation,  and  only  criterion  of  philosophy, 
but  that  this  revelation  is  naturally  clear, —  this  criterion,  in  itself^ 
unerring.  The  history  of  philosophy,  like  the  history  of  theology, 
IS  only,  it  is  too  true,  the  history  of  variations,  and  we  must  admit 
of  the  book  of  consciousness  what  a  great  Calvinist  divine  ^  bitterly 
confessed  of  the  book  of  Scri|)ture,  — 

"  Hie  liber  est  in  quo  qiuerlt  sua  doKinatii  quisque; 
Invenit  et  paritcr  doi^nuita  quisque  sua." 

In  regard,  however,  to  either  revelation,  it  can  be  shown  that  the 
source  of  this  divei'.sity  is  not  in  the  book,  but 

Cause    of   variation  •       .i  ^  i  -re  •^^  i.      ii       t>m  i  ^ 

HI  the  reader.     It  men  Avill  go  to  the  I^ible,  not 

in  pliilosopliv.  .  . 

to  ask  of  it  what  they  shall  believe,  but  to  find 
in  it  what  they  believe  already,  the  standard  of  unity  and  truth 
becomes  in  human  hands  only  a  Lesbian  rule.-  And  if  philoso- 
phers, in  place  of  evolving  their  doctrines  out  of  consciousne.ss, 
resort  to  consciousness  only  when  they  are  able  to  quote  its  authority 
in  confirmation  of  their  }>reconceived  opinions,  philoso])hical  sy.s- 
tems,  like  the  sandals  of  Theramenes, '  may  fit  any  feet,  but  cm 
never  })reteud  to  represent  the  immutability  of  nature.  And  that 
philosojdiers  have  been,  for  the  most  part,  guilty  of  this,  it  is  not 
extremely  dithcult  to  show.  They  have  seldom  or  never  taken  the 
facts  of  consciousness,  the  Avliole  facts  of  consciousness,  and  nothing 
but  the  facts  of  consciousness.  They  have  either  overlooked,  or 
rejected,  or  interj)olated. 

Before  we  are  entitled  to  accuse  consciousness  of  being  a  false,  or 

vacillating,    or    ill-informed    Avitness,  —  we    are 

Wearebonndtoin-       ^^^^^^^^     ^^.^^   ^^   ^jj^    ^^^    ^^^^^    whether   there    be 

<iuire  whether  there  be 

any  rules  by  which  in  '^^^J  ^ulcs  by  wliicli,  In  employing  tke  testi- 
enipioyinK  the  tesii-  mouy  of  consciousuess,  wi'  luust  bc  governed  ; 
mony   of  con.scious-       .jj„|    whether  i.hilosoj.hers   have  evolved    tlieir 

nc'-s,  we  must  be  gov-  ,.  .  .  ,       ,. 

,  systems    out  or    consciousness    in   ol)e(lience  to 

erned.  J 

these  rules.  For  if  there  lie  rules  uniler  wliicli 
alone  the  evidence  of  consciousness  can  be  fairly  and  fully  given, 
an<l,  consequently,   under  which    :iloiie  eon^eiousness  can  serve  as 

1  S.  Werenfels,  Dissrrtationes.  Amstel.  171G,  irphs  yap  rb  crxviJ^O-  toT'  Ai'-^ou  ti(raKiVf~iraL 
vol.  ii   p.  301.  —  En.  »fal  oii  fifvfi  6  Kavwv.  —  Kn. 

"•  0j}pau»V7)j  5ia  t})  ujj   ^lovifxav  a.K\<x  Ka\ 

2  Aristotle,  Elk.  Nit.,  v.  10:  Tou  yap  iu>p-  ^irau(J)OTcpiC.'(if  ofl  -rfi  irpoaipftrn  rfit  iroA- 
^(TTov  aApiaroi  Kcu  &  KUfciv  ^arii'.  uiffirfp  Ka)  trtias,  ^irtKA-f)^  Kibnavos.  I'lntarrh.  Si 
'TIS  AfrriSiaj   niKoSo/nrjs  6  /.wKi^Oivoi   xavuii''       mif.  \ii\.  I    ]i.  ~>l't   <A    I'lSt')   —  Ki> 

•i4 


186  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XV, 

an  infallible  standard  of  certainty  and  truth,  and  if  philosophers 
have  despised  or  neglected  these,  —  then,  must  we  remove  the 
reproach  fi'om  the  instrument,  and  affix  it  to  those  blundering  work- 
men wlio  have  not  known  how  to  handle  and  apply  it.  In  attempt- 
ing to  vindicate  the  veracity  and  perspicuity  of  this,  the  natural, 
revelation  of  our  mental  being,  I  shall,  therefore,  first,  endeavor 
to  enumerate  and  explain  the  general  rules  by  which  we  must 
be  governed  in  applying  consciousness  as  a  mean  of  internal  ob- 
servation, and  thereafter  show  how  the  variations  and  contradic- 
tions of  philosophy  have  all  arisen  from  the  violation  of  one  or 
more  of  these  laws.  If  I  accomplish  this  at  present  but  imper- 
fectly, T  may  at  least  plead  in  excuse,  that  the  task  I  undertake 
is  one  that  has  not  been  previously  attempted.  I,  therefore,  re- 
quest that  you  will  view  what  I  am  to  state  to  you  on  this  subject 
rather  as  the  outline  of  a  course  of  reasoning,  than  as  anything 
pretending  to  finished  argument. 

In  attempting  a  scientific  deduction  of  the  philosophy  of  mind 
from  the  data  of  consciousness,  there  are,  in  all, 

Three   grand  Law.«,         -r-  t  ^•  ,         ,  i  .    ■■       ^      t 

under  which  consci-  '^  ^  generalize  correctly,  three  laws  which  afford 
ou.sness  can  be  legiti-  the  exclusive  Conditions  of  psychological  legiti- 
mately applied  to  the       niacy.     These  laws,  or  regulative  conditions,  are 

■consideration    of    its  m?       •  -i       j^  ^  ^    ^i  .1 

seli-evident,  and   yet  they  seem  never  to  hilve 

own  phanomena.  •'  •' 

been  clearly  proposed  to  themselves  by  philoso- 
phers, —  in  philosophical  speculation,  they  have  certainly  never 
been  adequately  obeyed. 

The  First  of  these  rules  is,  —  That  no  fact  be  assumed  as  a  fact 
of    consciousness    but    what    is    ultimate   and 

1.  ThelawofParci-         ^-^^       rpj^j^    j    ^^^^^j^    ^.^j^    ^j^^    j.^^^,    of  Parci- 
mony. 

mony. 
The  Second, — that  which  I  would  style  the  law  of  Integrity,  is — 
That  the  whole  facts  of  consciousness  be  taken 

2.  The  law  of  integ-       A\ithout  reserve  or  hesitation,  whether  given  as 
fity.  .  ^     ■       l 

constituent,  or  as  regulative  data. 

The  Third  is,  —  That  nothing  but  the  facts  of  consciousness  be 

taken,  or,  if  inferences  of  reasoning  be  admitted, 

monv  *  *^  °      ^^'       that  these  at  least  be  recognized  a.s  legitimate 

only  as  deduced  from,  and  in  subordination  to, 

the  immediate  data  of  consciousness,  and  every  position  rejected  as 

illegitimate,  which  is  contradictory  of  these.     This  I  would  call  the 

law  of  Harmony.  » 

I  shall  consider  these  in  their  order. 

I,  The  first  law,  that  of  Parcimony,  is, — That  no  fact  be  assumed 


Lect.  XV.  METAPHYSICS.  187 

as  :i  foct  of  consciousness  but  what  is  ultimate  and  simple.     What 

is  a  fact  of  consciousness  ?     This  question  of  all 

I.  The  law  of  Parci-  ,  .  .  j        ^-      i    ^ 

jjj^,  others  requu-es  a  precise  and  articulate  answer, 

Fact  of  conscious-       but  I  have  not  found  it  adequately  answere<l  in 

Bess  —  what?  i      i        ■       i         ,i 

any  psychological  author. 
In  the  first  place,  —  every  mental  })ha3noinenoii  may  be  called  a 
fact  of  consciousness.      But  as  we   distinguish 

1.  Primary  and  uni-       consciousness  from  the  special  faculties,  though 

these  are  all  only  modifications  of  consciousness, 
—  only  branches  of  which  consciousness  is  the  trunk,  so  we  distin- 
o-nish  the  special  and  derivative  jthamomena  of  mind  from  tliose  that 
are  primary  and  universal,  and  give  to  the  latter  the  name  of  /'acts 
of  cousciousnefi.s,  as  more  eminently  worthy  of  that  ap])ellation.  In 
an  act  of  perception,  for  example,  I  distinguish  the  pen  I  hold  in 
iny  hand,  and  my  hand  itself,  from  niy  mind  perceiving  them.  This 
<listinction  is  a  particular  fiict,  —  the  fiict  of  a  particular  faculty, 
perception.  But  there  is  a  general  fact,  a  general  distinction,  of 
Avhich  this  is  only  a  special  case.  This  general  fiict  is  the  distinc- 
tif-.i  of  the  Ego  and  non-Ego,  and  it  belongs  to  consciousness  as 
tlie  genera]  faculty.  Whenever,  therefore,  in  our  analysis  of  the 
intellectual  pha'iiomena,  we  arrive  at  an  element  which  we  cannot 
reduce  to  a  generalization  fntm  experience,  but  which  lies  at  the 
ro<it  of  all  experience,  and  wliich  avc  cannot,  therefore,  resolve  into 
any  higher  princi])le,  —  this  we  pro])erly  call  a  fact  of  consciousness. 
Looking  to  such  a  fiict  of  consciousness  as  the  last  result  of  an 
analysis,  we  call  it  an  ulthiKite  ]>rinci])le  ;  looking  from  it  ns  the  first 
constituent  of  all  intellectual  combination,  we  call  it  a  primary 
])rinciplc.  A  fact  of  consciousness  is,  thus,  a  simple,  and,  as  we 
regard  it,  either  an  ultimate,  or  a  ])rimary,  datum  of  intelligence. 
It  obtains  also  various  denominations;  sometimes  it  is  called  an  (i 
J o'iori  pri Hciple,iio\notiineii  II ^fimdaine7itcil  law  of  mind,  sometimes  a 
transcemlental  condition,  of  thought,^  etc.,  etc. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  this,  its  character  of  ultimate  priority, 

supposes  its  character  of  necessitv.     It  must  be 

2.  Necessarv.  .  .  ....  t      /■   *     i       • 

imp()ssa)le  not  to  tniiiK  it.  In  tact,  by  its  neces- 
sity alone  can  we  recognize  it  as  an  original  datum  of  intelligence, 
.'Mid  distin<;uish  it  tiom  aiiv  mere  result  of  ijencralization  and 
custom. 

In  the  third  place,  this  fact,  as  ultimate,  is  also  given  to  us  with  a 
mere  belief  of  its  reality;  in  otlu-r  wonls,  consciousness  reveals 
that  it  is,  but  not  why  or  lunv  it  is.     This  is  evident.     Were  this 

1  See  Rri,rs  Workf,  ji.  T'Vi  rt  Krtj.  —  Kl». 


188  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XV. 

fact  given  us,  not  only  with  a  belief,  but  with  a  knowledge  of  how 

or  Avhy  it  is,  in  that  case  it  w^oulcl  be  a  derivative 

beiief'oritTrJaUm'^^  ^^^  '^^^  ^  primary  datum.  For  that  wlicreby  we 
were  thus  enabled  to  comprehend  its  how  and 
why,  —  in  other  words,  the  reason  of  its  existence,  —  this  would  be 
relatively  prior,  and  to  it  or  to  its  antecedent  must  we  ascend,  until 
we  arrive  at  that  primary  fact,  in  which  we  must  at  last  believe,  — 
which  we  must  take  upon  trust,  but  which  we  could  not  compre- 
hend, that  is,  think  under  a  higher  notion. 

A  fact  of  consciousness  is  thus,  —  that  whose  existence  is. 
given  and  guaranteed  by  an  original  and  necessary  belief  But 
there  is  an  important  distinction  to  be  here  made,  which  has  not 
only  been  overlooked  by  all  philosophers,  but  has  led  some  of  the 
most  distinguished  into  no  inconsiderable  errors. 

The  facts  of  consciousness  are  to  be  considered  in  two  points  of 

view  ;   cither  as  evidencing  their  own  ideal  or 

The  facts  of   con-       phaenomenal    existence,    or   as   evidencing    the 

«ciousness  to  be  con-  ....  ,  ° 

sidered  in  two  points  Objective  existence  of  something  else  beyond 
of   view;    either  as       them.^     A  belief  in  the  former  is  not  identical 

evidencing   their  own  .^,         i     t    />  •      ^i       i  mi  •  . 

iikni  existence,  or  With  a  belief  lu  tlic  latter.  Ihe  one  cannot,  the 
the  objective  existence       Other  may  possibly  be  refused.     In  the  case  of  a 

of  something  beyond  •.  iiiiii^i.r> 

iiigjjj  common  witness,  we  cannot  doubt  the  fact  of 

his   personal    reality,  nor  the  fact  of  his  testi- 
mony as  emitted, — but  we  can  always  doubt  the  truth  of  that 

which  his  testimony  avers.     So  it  is  with  con- 
ow    ar     ou      is       sciousness.     We  cannot  possibly  refuse  the  fact 

possible  in  regard  to  _  _  . 

a  fact  of  Conscious-  of  its  evidence  as  given,  but  we  may  hesitate  to 
ness.  Illustrated  in  admit  that  bcyond  itself  of  which  it  assures  us. 
the^  case  of  Percep-       j  ^^^^^y  ^^^^j.^-^^  ^^^  ^^^^^^  .^^^  example.     In  the 

act  of  External  Percej)tion,  consciousness  gives 
as  a  conjunct  fact,  the  existence  of  Me  or  Self  as  perceiving,  and  the 
existence  of  something  different  from  Me  or  Self  as  perceived.  Now 
the  reality  of  this,  as  a  subjective  datum,  —  as  an  ideal  phasnomenon, 
it  is  absolutely  impossible  to  doubt  without  doubting  the  existence 
of  consciousness,  for  consciousness  is  itself  this  fact ;  and  to  doubt 
the  existence  of  consciousness  is  absolutely  impossible  ;  for  as  such 
a  doubt  could  not  exist,  except  in  and  through  consciousness,  it 
Avould,  consequently,  annihilate  itself  We  should  doubt  that  we 
doubted.  As  contained,  —  as  given,  in  an  act  of  consciousness,  the 
contrast  of  mind  knowing  and  matteii  known  cannot  be  denied. 
But  the  wliole  phsenomenon  as  given  in  consciousness  may  be 

1  See  Re/rf'i  IVbri.v.  Note  A.  p.  743,  tt  sfy.  — Ed. 


Lect.  XV.  METAPHYSICS.  189 

admitted,  and  yet  its  inference  disputed.  It  may  be  said,  conscioiis- 
ness  oives  the  mental  subject  as  perceiving  an  external  object,  con- 
tradistinguished tioni  it  as  perceived;  all  this  we  do  not,  and 
cannot,  deny.  But  consciousness  is  only  a  phajuomenon ;  the 
■contrast  between  tlie  subject  and  object  may  be  only  a))parent, 
not  real ;  the  object  given  as  an  external  reality,  may  only  be  a 
mental  representation,  wliich  the  mind  is,  by  an  unknown  law, 
determined  unconsciously  to  produce,  and  to  mistake  for  something 
different  fi-om  itself.  All  this  may  be  said  and  believed,  without 
self-contradiction,  —  nay,  all  tliis  has,  by  the  immense  majority  of 
modern  philosophers,  been  actually  said  and  believed. 

In  like  manner,  in  an  act  of  Memory  consciousness  connects  a 
present  existence  Avith  a  past.     I  cannot  deny 

In  the  case  of  Mem-        ^i  >.      i        i  v  j       •  *i 

the  actual  ))hrenomenon,  because  my  denial 
would  be  suicidal,  but  I  can,  without  self-contra- 
<liction,  assert  that  consciousness  may  be  a  false  witness  in  regard 
to  any  former  existence  ;  and  I  may  maintain,  if  I  please,  that  the 
memory  of  the  past,  in  consciousness,  is  nothing  but  a  phajnomenon. 
which  has  no  reality  beyond  the  present.  There  are  many  other 
fiicts  of  consciousness  which  we  cannot  but  admit  as  ideal  pha?- 
nomena,  but  may  discredit  as  guaranteeing  aught  beyond  their 
phaenomenal  existence  itself  The  legality  of  this  doubt  I  do  not 
at  present  consider,  but  only  its  possibility;  all  that  I  have  now  in 
view  being  to  sliow  that  we  must  not  confound,  as  has  been  done, 
the  double  impoit  of  the  facts,  and  the  two  degrees  of  evidence  for 
their  reality.  Tliis  mistake  has,  among  others,  been  made  by  Mr. 
Stewart.^  "  The  belief,"  he  says,  "  which  accompanies  conscious- 
ness, as  to  the  present  existence  of  its  appro- 
ste^art  confounds  j^^^^.  id.icnomcna,  lias  been  commonly  consid- 

these   two   clc-^iees  of  .  . 

evidencu.  ered  as  much  less  obnoxious  to  cavil,  than  any 

of  the  princijdes  Avhicli  philosophers  are  accus- 
tomed to  assume  as  self-evident,  in  the  formation  of  their  meta])hys- 
ical  systems.  No  doubts  on  this  head  have  vet  been  suiiirested  bv 
any  jihilosopher,  how  skeptical  soever;  even  by  those  who  have 
called  in  question  the  existence  both  of  mind  and  of  matter.  And 
yet  the  fact  is,  that  it  rests  on  no  i(iiind.itii)n  more  solid  than  our 
belief  of  the  existence  of  external  objects;  or  our  belief,  that  other 
7nen  possess  intellectual  powers  .md  faculties  similar  to  those  of 
which  we  are  conscious  in  ourselves.  In  all  these  cases,  the  oidy 
account  that  can  be  given  of  our  belief  is,  th.it  it  forms  a  necess.iry 
part  of  our  constitution  ;  ag.iiiist  which  metaphysicians  may  easily 

I  Phil.  Essays       tl'orlcs,  vol.  v.  p.  57. 


190  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XV. 

argue,  so  as  to  perplex  the  judgment,  but  of  which  it  is  impossible 
for  us  to  divest  ourselves  for  a  moment,  when  we  are  called  on  to 
employ  our  reason,  either  in  the  business  of  life,  or  in  the  pursuits 
of  science.  While  we  are  under  the  influence  of  our  appetites, 
passions,  or  affections,  or  even  of  a  strong  speculative  curiosity,  all 
those  difficulties  which  bewildered  us  in  the  solitude  of  the  closet, 
vanish  before  the  essential  principles  of  the  human  frame." 

With  all  the  respect  to  which  the  opinion  of  so  distinguished  a 
])hilosophcr  as  Mr.  Stewart  is  justly  entitled,  I 

'"  '*'"''"  **    '  °^'       must  be   permitted   to   say,  that  I  cannot  but 

art's  view.  ,  ^  •' 

regard  his  assertion,  —  that  the  present  exist- 
ence of  the  phjenomena  of  consciousness,  and  the  reality  of  that  to 
which  these  phaenomena  bear  witness,  rest  on  a  foundation  equally 
solid,  —  as  wholly  untenable.  The  second  fact,  the  fact  testified  to, 
nuiy  be  worthy  of  all  credit,  —  as  I  agree  with  Mr.  Stewart  in 
thinking  that  it  is ;  but  still  it  does  not  rest  on  a  foundation  equally 
solid  as  the  fact  of  the  testimony  itself  Mr.  Stewart  confesses  that 
of  the  former  no  doubt  had  ever  been  suggested  by  the  boldest 
skeptic ;  and  the  latter,  in  so  far  as  it  assures  us  of  our  having  an 
immediate  knowledge  of  the  external  world, — which  is  the  case 
alleged  by  Mr.  Stewart,  —  has  been  doubted,  nay  denied,  not 
merely  by  skeptics,  but  by  modern  philosophers  almost  to  a  man. 
This  historical  circumstance,  therefore,  of  itself^  w^ould  create  a 
strong  jiresumption,  that  the  two  flicts  must  stand  on  very  different 
foundations  ;  and  this  presumption  is  confirmed  when  we  investi- 
gate what  tliese  foundations  themselves  are. 

The  one  fact,  —  the  fact  of  the  testimony,  is  an  act  of  conscious- 
ness itself;  it  cannot,  therefore,  be  invalidated  without  self-contra- 
diction. For,  as  we  have  frequently  observed,  to  doubt  the  reality 
of  that  of  which  we  are  conscious  is  impossible ;  for  as  we  can  only 
doubt  through  consciousness,  to  doubt  of  consciousness  is  to  doubt 
of  consciousness  by  consciousness.  If,  on  the  one  hand,  we  affirm 
the  reality  of  the  doubt,  we  thereby  explicitly  affirm  the  reality  of 
consciousness,  and  contradict  our  doubt ;  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we 
deny  the  reality  of  consciousness,  we  implicitly  deny  the  reality  of 
our  denial  itself.  Thus,  in  the  act  of  perception,  consciousness 
gives  as  a  conjunct  fact,  an  ego  or  juind,  and  a  non-ego  or  matter, 
known  together,  and  contradistinguislied  from  each  other.  Now, 
as  a  present  phjenomenon,  this  double  fact  cannot  possibly  be 
denied.  I  cannot,  therefore,  refuse  the  fact,  that,  in  perception,  I 
am  conscious  of  a  phaenomenon,  whibh  I  am  compelled  to  regard  as 
the  attribute  of  something  different  from  my  mind  or  self  This  I 
must  perforce  admit,  or  run  into  self-contradiction.     But  admitting 


Lect.  XV.  METAPHYSICS.  191 

this,  may  I  not  still,  without  self-contvailiftion,  maintain  that  what 
I  am  compelled  to  view  as  the  pha?noinenon  of  something  different 
from  me  is  nevertheless  (unknown  to  me),  only  a  modification  of 
my  mind  ?  In  this  I  admit  the  fact  of  the  testimony  of  conscious- 
ness as  given,  but  deny  the  truth  of  its  report.  Whether  this 
denial  of  the  truth  of  consciousness  as  a  Avitness,  is  or  is  not  legiti- 
mate, Ave  are  not,  at  this  moment,  to  consider :  all  I  have  in  view 
at  present  is,  as  I  said,  to  show  that  we  must  distinguish  in  con- 
sciousness two  kin<ls  of  facts,  —  the  flict  of  consciousness  testifying, 
and  the  fact  of  which  consciousness  testifies ;  and  that  we  must 
not,  as  Mr.  Stewart  has  done,  hold  that  we  can  as  little  doubt  of  the 
fact  of  the  existence  of  an  external  world,  as  of  the  fact  that  con- 
sciousness gives,  in  mutual  conti'ast,  the  phaenomenon  of  self,  in 
contrast  to  the  phainomenon  of  not-self.^ 

Under  this  first  law,  let  it,  therefore,  be  laid  down,  in  the  first 

place,  that  by  a  fact  of  consciousness  properly  so 

Results  of  the  Law       ^.^jj^^^   j^  ^^^^^^^^^  .^  primary  and  universal  fact  of 

of  Parcimonv.  . 

our  intellectual  being ;  and,  in  the  second,  that 
such  fiicts  are  of  two  kinds, —  1°,  The  facts  given  in  the  act  of  con- 
sciousness itself;  and,  2°,  The  facts  which  consciousness  docs  not  at 
once  give,  but  to  the  reality  of  which  it  only  bears  evidence.  And 
as  simplificatit)n  is  always  a  matter  of  iin])ortance,  we  may  throw 
out  of  account  altogether  the  former  class  of  these  facts ;  for  of 
such  no  doul)t  can  be,  or  has  been,  entertained.  It  is  only  the  au- 
thority of  these  facts  as  evidence  of  something  beyond  themselves, 
—  tliHt  is,  only  the  second  class  of  flicts,  —  Avhich  become  matter  of 
discussion  ;  it  is  not  the  reality  of  consciousness  that  we  have  to 
prove,  but  its  veracity." 

The  second  rule  is.  That  the    Avhole    fiicts  of  consciousness  bo 

taken    without    reserve    or    hesitation,    Avhether 

II.  The  Law  of  In-       ^j^^^.^^     .^^    fouslitucnt,    or    as    rcgidative,    data. 

This  rule  is  too  manifest  to  riMjuire  iniu-li  elucida- 
tion. As  philosophy  is  only  a  development  of  the  phicnomena  and 
laws  of  consciousness,  it  is  evident  that  ])hilosoi»hy  can  only  bo 
complete,  as  it  comprehends,  in  one  harmonious  system,  all  the  con- 
stittu'iit,  and  all  the  icgulntive,  facts  of  consciousness.  If  any 
pluenomenon  or  constilm  iit  fact  of  consciousness  be  omitted,  the 
system  is  not  complete  ;  if  any  law  or  rcgidative  foct  is  excluded, 
the  system  is  not  legitimate. 

1  The  only  pliilosoplier  wlunn  I  liiivc  met  external  world  is  not  self-contradictory;  by 

witli,  toiichiii<:  oil  tlieiiui'stioii.  is  KatluTUiif-  no    mennp.  — he   is    only   mad."  —  7Vat/<'  dft 

tier,  and  lu-  seems  to  strike  the  nail  ui»)n  the  Prtmieres  Vcrilcs,  c.  xi.  j  9S.     [See  Reid's  WorkSy 

head.      He  says,  as  I  recollect,  —  "He  who  p.  787.  —  Ed.] 
ftainsays  the  evidence  of  consciousnefs  of  an  2  Sec  RriJ'!:  M'ori.«,  pp   7W-754,  el  kj.  — iil> 


192  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XV, 

The  violation  of  this  second  rule  is,  in  general,  connected  with  a 
violation  of  the  third,  and  we  shall  accordingly 
iii.    The  Law  of       illustrate  them  together.     The  third  is,  —  That 
*'^'"*'"^"  nothino-  but  the  facts  of  consciousness  be  taken, 

or  if  inferences  of  reasoning  be  admitted,  that  these  at  least  be 
recognized  as  legit-mate  only  as  deduced  from,  and  only  in  subordi- 
nation to,   the  immediate   data  of  consciousness,  and   thiit  every 
position  be  rejected  as  illegitimate  which  is  contradictory  to  these. 
The  truth  and  necessity  of  this  rvde  are  not  less  evident  than  the 
truth  and  necessity  of  the  preceding.     Philoso- 
These  illustrated  in       ^^^  j^  ^^^i^,  ^  Systematic  evolution  of  the  con- 
conjuuctiou.  ^^^^^  ^^  consciousness,  by  the  instrumentality  of 

consciousness ;  it,  therefore,  necessarily  supposes,  in  both  respects, 
the  veracity  of  consciousness. 

But,  though  this  be  too  evident  to  admit  of  doubt,  and  though 

no  philosopher  has  ever  openly  throAvn  off  alle- 

How  Skepticism  ari-       oiance   to   the    authority  of  consciousness,   we 

ses  out  of  partial  dog-       ^        nevertheless,  that  its  testimony  has   been 

matic  systems.  iim.,  ,  i  v  i      -i 

silently  overlooked,  and  systems  established 
upon  principles  in  direct  hostility  to  the  primary  data  of  intelli- 
gence. It  is  only  such  a  violation  of  the  integrity  of  consciousness, 
by  the  dogmatist,  that  affords,  to  the  skeptic,  the  foundation  on 
which  he  can  establish  his  proof  of  the  nullity  of  philosophy.  The 
skeptic  cannot  assail  the  trutli  of  the  facts  of  consciousness  in 
themselves.  In  attempting  this  he  would  run  at  once  into  self-con- 
tradiction. In  the  first  ])lace,  he  would  enact  the  part  of  a  dogma- 
tist, —  that  is,  he  would  positively,  dogmatically,  establish  his 
doubt.  In  the  second,  waiving  this,  how  can  he  accomplish  what 
he  thus  proposes?  For  why?  He  must  attack  consciousness 
either  from  a  higher  ground,  or  from  consciousness  itself  Higher 
gi-ound  than  consciousness  there  is  none  ;  he  must,  therefore,  inval- 
idate the  facts  of  consciousness  from  the  grovmd  of  consciousness 
itself  On  this  ground,  he  cannot,  as  we  have  seen,  deny  the  focts 
of  consciousness  as  given  ;  he  can  only  attempt  to  invalidate  their 
testimony.  But  this  again  can  be  done  only  by  showing  that  con- 
sciousness tells  different  tales,  —  that  its  evidence  is  contradictory, 
—  that  its  data  are  repugnant.  But  this  no  skeptic  has  ever  yet 
been  able  to  do.  Neither  does  the  skeptic  or  negative  philosopher 
himself  assume  his  princi})les  ;  he  only  accepts  those  on  which  the 
dogmatist  or  positive  philosopher  attempts  to  establish  his  doctrine ; 
and  this  doctrine  he  reduces  to  zero,  by  showing  that  its  principles 
are  either  mutually  repugnant,  or  repugnant  to  f  icts  of  conscious- 
ness, on  which,  though  it  may  not  expressly  found,  still,  as  facts  of 


Lect.  XV.  METAPHYSICS.  193 

consciousness,  it  cannot  refuse  to  recognize  without  denying  the 
possibility  of  ])liiloso|)hy  in  general. 

I  shall  illustrate  the  violation  of  this  rule  by  examples  taken  from 

the  writings   of  the  late  ingenious  Dr.  Thomas 

Violations    of   the       Brown.  —  I    must,  however,   premise   that    this 

Second  and  Ttiircllaws  ,  .,  ,  r>        /•  ^     •  .  ,         .       ,  . 

.   ,,       ...        ,.  ,,         philosopher,   so  tar  trom   being  singular  m  his 

in  the  writings  of  Dr.  i  i  '  »  &  • 

Thomas  Browu.  easy  Way  of  ajipealing  to,  or  overlooking,  the 

facts  of  consciousness,  as  he  finds  them  conve- 
nient or  inconvenient  for  his  pur))ose,  suj)plies  only  a  specimen  of 

the  too  ordinary  style  of  philosophizing.     Now, 
i'.rown's  doctrine  of       y^^  ,^„st  know,  that  Dr.  Biowu  maintains  the 

External     rerception         *  ■,       ^   .  ^   ,,  ,.,  ,  , 

,  .  ^        common   doctrine  ot  the   i)hiosoi)  hers,  t  lat  Ave 

involve.s  an  mcousist-  '  '  '    '^""'-    " '^ 

ency.  have  no  immediate  knowledge  of  anything  be- 

yond the  states  or  modifications  of  our  own  minds, 

—  tliat  we  are  only  conscious  of  the  ego,  —  the  non-ego,  as  known, 
being  only  a  modification  of  self,  which  mankind  at  large  are  illu- 
sively determined  to  view  as  external  and  different  from  self  This 
doctrine  is  contradictory  of  the  fact  to  which  consciousness  testifies. 

—  that  the  object  of  which  we  are  conscious  in  percej)tion,  is  the 
external  reality  as  existing,  and  not  merely  its  representation  in  the 
percipient  mind.  That  this  is  the  fact  testified  to  by  consciousness, 
and  believed  by  the  common  sense  of  mankind,  is  admitted  even  by 
those  philoso])hers  who  reject  the  truth  of  the  testimony  and  the 
belief  It  is  of  no  consequence  to  us  at  present  what  are  the 
grounds  on  which  the  ])rinciple  is  founded,  that  the  mind  can  have 
no  knowledge  of  aught  besides  itself;  it  is  sufficient  to  observe 
that,  this  jirinciple  being  contradictory  of  the  testimony  of  con- 
sciousness. Dr.  Brown,  by  adopting  it,  virtually  accuses  conscious- 
ness of  falsehood.  But  if  consciousness  be  false  in  its  testimony  to 
one  fact,  Ave  can  have  no  confidence  in  its  testimony  to  any  other; 
and  Brown,  having  himself  belied  the  veracity  of  consciousness, 
cannot,  therefore,  again  a]»peal  to  this  A^ei'acity  as  to  a  credible  au- 
thority. But  he  is  not  thus  consistent.  Although  he  does  n<tt 
allow  that  Ave  have  any  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  an  outer 
world,  the  existence  of  that  Avorld  he  still  maintains.  And  on  what 
grounds?  lie  admits  the  reasoning  <»f  the  idealist,  that  is,  of  the 
philosopher  Avlio  denies  the  reality  <>f"  t lie  iiiiiteriMl  universe.  —  he 
admits  tliis  to  l)e  iuA'incible.  JIow,  tlien,  i.s  tins  conclusion  avoided"::' 
Simply  by  appealing  to  the  universal  belief  of  mankin<l  in  favor  ol 
the  existence  of  external  thing.x,^ — that  is,  to  the  authority  of  a 
fact    of   consciousness.     But    to    him    this    jipjieal    is    incompetent. 

1   Pliilntiii>h;/    nf  the    Jfinmtn    Mini/,   leofure       fiiithcr  ]inr,>!Ut-«I   in  Uie   -Author's  Dheu.Sfinn\ 
xxviii.,  p.  ."iO,  2d  edition.     See  this  ar;:i"'i"it       |'.  ii-.  —  Ki>. 

•2.) 


194  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XV, 

For,  in  tlie  first  place,  having  already  virtually  given  up,  or  rather 
positively  rejected,  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  when  conscious- 
ness deposed  to  our  immediate  knowledge  of  external  things,  — 
how  can  he  even  found  upon  the  veracity  of  that  mendacious  prin- 
ciple, when  bearing  evidence  to  the  unknown  existence  of  external 
things  ?  I  cannot  but  believe  that  the  material  reality  exists ; 
therefore,  it  does  exist,  for  consciousness  does  not  deceive  us,  — this 
reasoning  Dr.  Brown  employs  when  defending  his  assertion  of  an 
outer  world.  I  cannot  but  believe  that  the  material  reality  is  the 
object  immediately  known  in  perception  ;  therefore,  it  is  immedi- 
ately known,  for  consciousness  does  not  deceive  us,  —  this  reasoning 
Dr.  Brown  rejects  when  establishing  the  foundation  of  his  system. 
In  the  one  case,  he  maintains,  —  this  belief,  because  ii-resistible,  is 
true  ;  in  the  other  case  he  maintains,  —  this  belief,  though  irresist- 
ible, is  false.  Consciousness  is  veracious  in  the  former  belief,  men- 
dacious in  the  latter.  I  approbate  the  one,  I  reprobate  the  other. 
The  inconsistency  of  this  is  apparent.  It  becomes  more  palpable 
when  we  consider,  in  the  second  place,  that  the  belief  which  Dr. 
Brown  assumes  as  true  rests  on  —  is,  in  fact,  only  the  reflex  of — 
the  belief  which  he  repudiates  as  false.  Why  do  mankind  believe 
in  the  existence  of  an  outer  world  ?  They  do  not  believe  in  it  as 
in  something  unknown  ;  but,  on  the  contrary,  they  believe  it  to 
■exist,  only  because  they  believe  that  they  immediately  know  it 
to  exist.  The  former  belief  is  only  as  it  is  founded  on  the  latter. 
Of  all  absurdities,  therefore,  the  greatest  is  to  assert,  —  on  the  one 
hand,  that  consciousness  deceives  us  in  the  belief  that  we  know  any 
material  object  to  exist,  and,  on  the  other,  that  the  material  object 
exists,  because,  though  on  false  grounds,  we  believe  it  to  exist. 
I  may  give  you  another  instance,  from  the  same  author,  of  the 
Avild  work  that  the  aj)plication  of  this  rule 
The  .ame  is  t.ue  of       ,,^.,],es,  among  philosophical  systems  not  legiti- 

Brown-s  pnxif  (.four  '  ,^.   ,       ,  -r^         t^  *  •,  , 

Personal  idciititv.  matcly    established.       Dr.    Brown,    Avitti    other 

I)liilosophers,  rests  the  proof  of  our  Personal 
Identity,  and  of  our  Mental  Individuality,  on  the  ground  of  beliefs, 
which,  as  "intuitive,  universal,  immediate,  and  irresistible,"  he,  not 
unjustly,  regards  as  the  "internal  and  never-ceasing  voice  of  our 
Creator,  —  revelations  from  on  high,  omnipotent  [and  veracious] 
as  their  Author.^  To  him  this  argument  is,  however,  incompetent, 
as  contradictory. 

What  we  know  of  self  or  person,  we  know  only  as  a  fact  of  con 


1  Philosophy  of  the  Jiianan  Mind,  lecture  xiji  ,  p.  269,  2d  edition,  also  Sir  W.  Hamiltoali 
Zh'srusnions,  ]).  06.  — Kd. 


Lect.  XV.  METAPHYSICS.  195 

ficiousness.  In  our  perceptive  consciousness,  there  is  revealed,  in 
contrast  to  each,  a  self  and  a  not-self.  This  contrast  is  either  true  or 
false.  If  true,  then  am  I  conscious  of  an  object  different  from  mc. — ■ 
that  is,  I  have  an  immediate  perception  of  the^  external  realitv.  If 
false,  then  am  I  not  conscious  of  anything  different  from  me,  but 
what  I  am  constrained  to  regard  as  not-me  is  only  a  modification 
of  me,  which,  by  an  illusion  of  my  nature,  I  mistake,  and  must  mis- 
take, for  something  difierent  from  me. 

Now,  will  it  be  credited  that  Dr.  Brown  —  and  be  it  remembered 
that  1  adduce  him  only  as  the  representative  of  a  great  majority  of 
philosophers  —  affirms  or  denies,  just  as  he  finds  it  convenient  or 
inconvenient,  this  fact, — this  distinction  of  consciousness?  In  his 
doctrine  of  perception,  he  explicitly  denies  its  truth,  in  denying  that 
mind  is  conscious  of  aught  beyond  itself  But,  in  other  parts  of  his 
philosophy,  this  false  fact,  this  illusive  distinction,  and  the  deceitful 
belief  founded  thereupon,  are  appealed  to,  (I  quote  his  expres- 
sions,) as  "revelations  from  on  high, — as  the  never-ceasing  voice 
of  our  Creator,"  etc. 

Thus,  on  the  veracity  of  this  mendacious  belief,  Dr.  Brown  estab- 
lishes his  proof  of  our  ]iersonal  identity.  Touching  the  object  of 
perception,  when  its  evidence  is  inconvenient,  this  belief  is  quietly 
passed  over,  as  incompetent  to  distinguish  not-self  from  self;  in  the 
question  regarding  our  personal  identity,  where  its  testimony  is 
convenient,  it  is  clamorously  cited  as  an  insj)ired  witness,  exclu- 
sively com]»etent  to  distinguish  self  from  not-self  Yet  why,  if,  in 
the  one  case,  it  mistook  self  for  not-self,  it  may  not,  in  the  other, 
mistake  not-self  for  self,  would  aj)pear  a  problem  not  of  the  easiest 
solution. 

The  same  belief,  with  the  same  inconsistency,  is  called  in  to  jirove 
the  Individuality  of  mind, ^     But  if  we  are  falla- 

Anrt  of  our  Individ-  •         i       i    i  •        i    •  x* 

ciouslv  deternuned,  in  our  perceptive  conscious- 
ness,  to  regard  mind  both  as  mind  and  as  matter. 
—  for,  on  Brown's  hypothesis,  in  percejttion,  the  object  ])erceived  is 
only  a  mode  of  the  percipient  subject,  —  if,  I  say,  in  this  act,  I  must 
view  what  is  sup)>os(Ml  om-  and  indivisible,  as  plural,  and  ditfercnl, 
and  opposed,  —  Imw  is  it  jiossible  to  appeal  to  the  authority  of  a 
testimony  so  treacherons  as  consciousness  for  an  evidence  of  the 
real  sinqilicity  of  the  thinking  principle?  How,  says  the  materialist 
to  Brown,  —  how  can  you  ap]»eal  against  me  to  the  testimony  of 
consciousness,  which  yoii  yourself  reject  when  against  your  own 
opinions,  and  how  can  you,   on    the  authority   of  that  testimony, 

1  Lecturi'  xii.  voi.  i.  p.  941, 2d  edition.  —  Ki). 


196  METAPHYSICS.  Legt.  XV 

maintain  the  unity  of  self  to  be  more  than  an  ilhisive  appearance, 
when  self  and  not-self,  as  known  to  consciousness,  are,  on  your  own 
hypothesis,  confessedly  only  modifications  of  the  same  percipient 
subject?  If,  on  yoijr  doctiine,  consciousness  can  split  what  you 
hold  to  be  one  and  indivisible  into  two,  not  only  different  but 
opposed,  exisiences, — what  absurdity  is  there,  on  mine,  that  con- 
sciousness should  exhibit  as  phaenomenally  one,  Avhat  we  both  hold 
to  be  really  manifold '?  If  you  give  the  lie  to  consciousness  in  favor 
of  your  hyi)othesis,  you  can  have  no  reasonable  objection  that  I 
should  give  it  the  lie  in  favor  of  mine.  If  you  can  maintain  that 
not-self  is  only  an  illusive  phaenomenon,  —  l>eing,  in  fact,  only  self 
in  disguise  ;  I  may  also  maintain,  a  contra^  that  self  itself  is  only  an 
illusive  phtenomenon,  —  and  that  the  apparent  unity  of  the  ego  is. 
only  the  result  of  an  oi-ganic  harmony  6f  action  between  the  parti- 
cles of  matter. 

From  these  examples,  the  truth  of  the  position  I  maintain  is  man- 
ifest,—  that  a  fact  of  consciousness  can  only  be 
The   absolute    and       rejected  On  the  supposition  of  falsity,  and  that, 
universal  veracity  of      ^j^^  falsity  of  ouc  fact  of  cousciousuess  being  ad- 

consciousness  must  be  .,,  ■,        n  ■<  o     ,       n 

maintained  mittcd,  the  truth  of  no  other  fact  oi  conscious- 

ness can  be  maintnined.  The  legal  brocard,. 
Fahus  in  vuo,  falsus  in  omnibus^  is  a  rule  not  more  applicable  to 
other  witnesses  than  to  consciousness.  Thus,  every  system  of  phi- 
losophy which  implies  the  negation  of  any  fact  of  consciousness,  is 
not  only  necessarily  unable,  without  self-contradiction,  to  establish 
its  own  truth  by  any  appeal  to  consciousness ;  it  is  also  unable,  with- 
out self-contradiction,  to  appeal  to  consciousness  against  the  fsilse- 
hood  of  any  other  system.  If  the  absolute  and  universal  veracity 
of  consciousness  be  once  surrendered,  every  system  is  equally  true, 
or  rather  all  are  equally  false ;  philosophy  is  impossible,  for  it  has 
now  no  instrument  by  which  truth  cm  be  discovered,  —  no  stand- 
ard by  which  it  can  be  tried  ;  the  root  of  our  nature  is  a  lie.  But 
though  it  is  thus  manifestly  the  common  interest  of  every  scheme 
of  philosophy  to  preserve  intact  the  integrity  of  consciousness,  almost 
every  scheme  of  philosophy  is  only  another  mode  in  which  this 
integrity  has  been  violated.  If,  therefore,  I  am  able  to  prove  the  fiict 
of  this  various  violation,  and  to  show  that  the  facts  of  conscious- 
ness have  ne\er,  or  hardly  ever,  been  fiiirly  evolved,  it  will  follow, 
as  I  said,  that  no  reproach  can  be  justly  addressed  to  consciousness 
as  an  ill-informed,  or  vacillating,  or  ])C'rfidious  witness,  but  to  those 
only  Avho  were  too  pi'oud,  or  too  negligent,  to  accept  its  testimony, 
to  employ  its  materials,  and  to  obey  its  laws.     And  on  this  suppo* 


Lect.  XV.  METAPHYSICS.  197 

sition,  so  far  sliould  we  be  from  despairing  of  the  future  advance  of 
philosopJiy  from  the  experience  of  its  jjast  wanderings,  that  we 
ought,  on  the  contrary,  to  anticipate  for  it  a  steady  progress,  the 
moment  that  philosophers  can  be  persuaded  to  look  to  consciousness, 
ai»d  to  consciousness  alone,  for  their  materials  and  their  rules. 


LECTURE   XVI. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,  —  VIOLATIONS    OF   ITS    AUTHORITY. 

On  the  principle,  which  no  one  has  yet  been  found  bold  enough 

formally  to   deny,  and  which,  indeed,  requires 

Consciausness,   the       Only  to  be  understood  to  be  acknowledged,  — 

first  and    generative       namely,  that  as  all  philosophy  is  evolved  from 

principJe  of   Philoso-  ."  .1        ,       ,i        /» 

jj  consciousness,  so,  on  the  truth  oi  consciousness, 

the  possibility  of  all  philosophy  is  dependent,  — 
it  is  manifest,  at  once  and  without  further  reasoning,  that  no  philo- 
sophical theory  can  pretend  to  truth  except  that  single  theory  which 
comprehends  and  develops  the  fact  of  consciousness  on  which  it 
founds,  without  retrenchment,  distortion,  or  addition.  Were  a  phi- 
losophical system  to  pretend  that  it  culls  out  all  that  is  correct  in 
a  fact  of  consciousness,  and  rejects  only  what  is  eiToneous,  —  what 
would  be  the  inevitable  result?  In  the  first  place,  this  system 
admits,  and  must  admit,  that  it  is  wholly  dependent  on  conscious- 
ness for  its  constituent  elements,  and  for  the  rules  by  which  these 
are  selected  and  arranged,  —  in  short,  that  it  is  wholly  dependent 
on  consciousness  for  its  knowledge  of  true  and  false.  But,  in  the 
second  place,  it  pretends  to  select  a  part,  and  to  reject  a  part,  of  a 
fact  given  and  guaranteed  by  consciousness.  Now,  by  what  crite- 
rion, by  what  standard,  can  it  discriminate  the  true  from  the  false 
in  this  fact  ?  This  criterion  must  be  either  consciousness  itself,  or 
an  instrument  different  from  consciousness.  If  it  be  an  instrument 
different  from  consciousness,  what  is  it  ?  No  such  instrument  has 
ever  yet  been  named  —  has  ever  yet  been  heard  of.  If  it  exist,  and 
if  it  enable  us  to  criticize  the  data  of  consciousness,  it  must  be  a 
higher  source  of  knowledge  than  consciousness,  and  thus  it  will 
replace  consciousness  as  the  first  and  generative  principle  of  philos- 
ophy. But  of  any  principle  of  this  character,  different  from  con- 
sciousness, philosophy  is  yet  in  ignorance.  It  remains  unenonnced 
and  unknown.  It  may  therefore,  be  safely  assumed  not  to  be.  The 
standard,   tlierefore,  by  which  any  philosophical  theory  can  profess 


Lect.  XVI.  METAPHYSICS.  199 

to  regulate  its  choice  among  the  elements  of  any  fact  of  conscious- 
ness, must  be  consciousness  itself.  Xow,  mark  the  dilemma.  The 
theory  makes  consciousness  the  discriminator  between  -svhat  is  true 
and  what  is  false  in  its  own  testimony.  But  if  consciousness  be 
assumed  to  be  a  mendacious  witness  in  certain  parts  of  its  evidence, 
how  can  it  be  presumed  a  veracious  witness  in  others?  This  it 
cannot  be.  It  must  be  held  as  false  in  all,  if  false  in  any ;  and  the 
philosophical  theory  which  starts  from  this  hypothesis,  starts  from  a 
negation  of  itself  in  the  negation  of  philosophy  in  general.  Again, 
on  the  hypothesis  that  part  of  the  deliverance  of  consciousness  is 
true,  part  false,  how  can  consciousness  enable  us  to  distinguish  these? 
This  has  never  yet  been  shown  ;  it  is,  in  fact,  inconceiv:d)le.  But, 
further,  how  is  it  discovered  that  any  part  of  a  datum  of  conscious- 
ness is  false,  another  true  ?  This  can  only  be  done  if  the  datum 
involve  a  contradiction.  But  if  the  fixcts  of  consciousness  be  con- 
tradictory, then  is  consciousness  a  principle  of  falsehood  ;  and  the 
greatest  of  conceivable  follies  would  be  an  attempt  to  employ  such 
a  principle  in  the  discovery  of  truth.  And  such  an  act  of  folly  i* 
every  philosophical  theory  which,  departing  from  an  admission  that 
the  data  of  consciousness  are  false,  would  still  pretend  to  build  out 
of  them  a  system  of  truth.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  the  data  «>f 
consciousness  are  not  contradictory,  and  consciousness,  therefore,  not 
a  self-convicted  deceiver,  how  is  the  unapparent  falsehood  of  its 
evidence  to  be  evinced?  This  is  manifestly  impossible ;  for  such 
falsehood  is  not  to  be  presumed  ;  and,  we  have  previously  seen,  there 
is  no  higher  principle  by  which  the  testimony  of  consciousness  can 
be  canvassed  and  redargued.  Consciousness,  therefore,  is  to  be  pre- 
sumed veracious ;  a  philosophical  theory  which  accepts  one  part  of 
the  harmonious  data  of  consciousness  and  rejects  another,  is  mani- 
festly a  mere  caprice,  a  chimera  iu>t  worthy  of  consideration,  fir  less 
of  articulate  disproof     It  is  ah  initio  null. 

I  have  been  anxious  thus  again  to  inculcate  u))on  you  this  view 
in  regard  to  the  relation  of  Pl)iloso|»liy  to  Consciousness,  because  it 
contains  a  jueliminary  refutation  of  all  those  proud  and  wayward 
systems  which,  though  they  can  only  pretend  to  represent  the  truth 
inasmuch  as  they  fully  and  fairlv  .levi'loi.  the  revelations  vouch- 
safed  to  us  through  consciousness,  still  do,  one  and  all  of  them, 
depart  from  a  f  dse  or  partial  acceptance  of  these  revelations  them- 
selves; and  because  it  affords  a  clear  and  simple  criteritui  of  cer- 
tainty in  oiir  own  attempts  at  jihilosophical  construction.  If  it  be 
correct,  it  sweeps  away  at  once  a  world  of  metaphysical  sjH'cula- 
tion  ;  and  if  it  curtail  the  dominions  of  human  reason,  it  firmly 
establishes  our  authority  over  what  remains. 


200  MKTAPH  YSICS.  Lkct.   XVL 

In  order  still  further  to  evince  to  you  tlie  importance  of  the  pre- 
cept (namely,  that  we  must  look  to  conscious- 
violations  of  tlie  au-  1    ,  •  1  r-         1 
^    .       ^                      ness  and  to   consciousness  alone   for  the  mate- 

thonty    of  conscious-  _ 

ness  illustrated.  I'ials  and  rules  of  philosophy),  and  to  show  ar- 

ticulately how  all  the  variations  of  jihilosophy 
have  been  determined  by  its  neglect,  I  will  take  those  facts  of  con- 
sciousness whi(;h  lie  at  the  very  root  of  philosophy,  and  with  which, 
consequently,  all  philosophical  systems  are  necessarily  and  primarily 
conversant ;  and  point  out  how,  besides  the  one  true  doctrine  which 
accepts  and  simi)ly  states  the  fact  as  given,  there  are  always  as 
many  various  actual  theories  as  there  are  various  possible  modes  of 
distorting   or  mutilating  this  f  ict.      I  shall   commence  with   that 

great  fact  to  which  I  have  already  alluded, —  that 

The  Duality  of  Con-  •  t    j.    i  •  •  ^  •  c 

we  are  immediatelv  conscious  in  perception   of 

sciousness.  *  '■  ' 

an  ego  and  a  non-ego,  known  togethei-,  and 
known  in  contrast  to  each  other.  This  is  the  fact  of  the  Duality 
of  Consciousness.  It  is  clear  and  manifest.  When  I  concentrate 
ni}'  attention  in  the  simplest  act  of  perception,  I  return  from  my 
observation  with  the  most  irresistible  conviction  of  two  facts,  or 
rather  two  branches  of  the  same  fact;  —  that  I  am,  —  and  that 
something  different  from  me  exists.  In  this  act,  I  •am  conscious  of 
myself  as  the  perceiving  subject,  and  of  an  external  reality  as  the 
object  perceived ;  and  I  am  conscious  of  both  existences  in  the  same 
indivisible  moment  of  intuition.  The  knowledge  of  the  subject 
does  not  jjrecede,  nor  follow,  the  knowledge  of  the  object,  —  neither 
determines,  neither  is  determined  by,  the  other. 

Such  is  the  fact  of  perceptitm  revealed  in  consciousness,  and  as  it 

determines  mankind  in  general  in  their  almost 
Thefactofthetesti-       equal    assuraucc   of  the   reality  of  an  external 

monv     of    conscious-  t  ^  /»  ii  •   j.  j?  ^i     •  •     j 

•.    „         .       ,        world,  as  of  the  existence  of  their  own  minds. 

ness  in  Perception  al- 
lowed by  those  who       Coiisciousness  declares  our  knowledge  of  mate- 
deny  its  truth.  i-ial  qualities  to  be  intuitive  or  immediate,  —  not 

representative  or  mediate.  Nor  is  the  fact,  as 
given,  denied  even  by  those  who  disallow  its  truth.  So  clear  is 
the  deliverance,  that  even  the  philoso})hers  who  reject  an  intuitive 
perception,  find  it  impossible  not  to  admit,  that  their  doctrine 
stands  decidedly  opposed  to  the  voice  of  consciousness,  —  to  the 
natural  convictions  of  mankind.  I  may  give  you  some  examples  of 
the  admission  of  this  fact,  wliich  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance  to 
place  beyond  the  possibility  of  doftbt.  I  quote,  of  course,  only  from 
those  philosophers  whose  systems  are  in  contradiction  of  the  testi- 
mony of  consciousness,  which  they  are  forced  to  admit.  I  might 
quote  to  you  confessions  to  this  effect  from  Descartes,  J)e  Passiou' 


Lect.  XVL  metaphysics:  201 

tfyus,  article  23,  and  from  Malebranche,  Recherche^  liv.  iii.  c.  1.  To 
these  I  only  refer  you. 

The  following  is  from  Berkeley,  towards  the  conclusion  of  the 
third  and  last  Dialogue,  in  which  liis  system  of 
Idealism  is  established: — "When  Ilylas  is  at 
last  entirely  converted,  he  observes  to  Philonous,  —  'After  all,  tlie 
controversy  about  matter,  in  the  strict  acceptation  of  it,  lies  alto- 
gether between  you  and  the  ])hilosophers,  whose  principles,  T 
acknowledge,  ai'c  not  near  so  natural,  or  so  agreeable  to  the  com- 
mon sense  of  mankind,  and  Holy  Scripture,  as  yours.'  Philonous 
observes  in  the  end,  —  'That  he  does  not  jiretend  to  be  a  setter-up 
of  new  notions  ;  his  endeavors  tend  only  to  unite,  and  to  j)lace  in  a 
clearer  light,  that  truth  which  was  before  shared  between  the  vulgar 
and  the  philosophers;  the  former  being  of  opinion,  that  those  things 
they  immediately  perceive  are  the  real  things ;  and  the  latter,  that 
the  things  immediately  perceived  are  ideas  which  exist  only  in  the 
mind  ;  which  two  things  put  together  do,  in  eftect,  constitute  the 
s(d>stance  of  what  he  advances.'  And  he  concludes  by  observing, — 
'That  those  principles  which  at  first  view  lead  to  skepticism,  pur- 
sued to  a  certain  point,  bring  men  back  to  common  sense.' " ' 

Here  you  will  notice  that  Berkeley  admits  that  the  common  be- 
lief of  mankind  is,  that  the  things  immediately  perceived  are  not 
representative  objects  in  the  mind,  but  the  external  realities  them- 
selves. Hume,  in  like  manner,  makes  the  same  confession  ;  and  the 
confession  of  that  skeptical  idealist,  or  skeptical  nihilist,  is  of  the 
utmost  weight. 

"  It  seems  evident  that  men  are  carried  by  a  natural  instinct  or 
prepossession  to  repose  faith  in  their  senses; 
and  that,  without  any  reasonnig,  or  even  almost 
before  the  use  of  reason,  we  always  sui)pose  an  external  universe, 
which  depends  not  on  our  perception,  but  would  exist  though  we 
and  everv  sensible  creature  were  absent  or  annihilated.  Even  the 
animal  creation  are  governed  by  a  like  o]>inion,  and  preserve  this 
belief  of  external  objects  in  all  their  thoughts,  designs,  and  actions. 

"It  seems  also  evident  that,  when  men  follow  this  blind  and 
powerful  instinct  of  nature,  they  always  sui)pose  the  very  images 
presented  by  the  senses  to  be  the  external  objects,  and  never  enter- 
tain any  suspicion  that  the  one  are  notliing  but  reiireseutations  of 
the  other.  This  very  table,  which  we  see  white,  and  which  we  feel 
liard,  is  believed  to  exist,  inde]>endent  of  our  perception,  and  to  be 
something  external  to  our  mind,  which  jierceives  it.  Our  presence 
bestows  not  being  on  it,  —  our  absence  does  not  annihilate  it.     It 

1  See  ReidCi  Works,  p.  284.  —  Ed. 
26 


202  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XV'I 

preserves  its  existence  uniform  and  entire,  independent  of  the  situa- 
tion of  intelligent  beings,  who  perceive  or  contemplate  it. 

"  But  this  universal  and  primary  opinion  of  all  men  is  soon  de- 
stroyed by  the  slightest  philosophy,  which  teaches  us  that  nothing 
can  ever  be  present  to  the  mind  but  an  image  or  ))erception,  and 
that  the  senses  are  only  the  inlets  through  which  these  images  are 
conveyed,  without  being  able  to  j)rodu(;e  any  immediate  intercourse 
between  the  mind  and  the  object.  The  table,  which  Ave  see,  seems 
to  diminish  as  we  remove  farther  from  it ;  but  the  real  table,  which 
exists  independent  of  us,  suffers  no  alteration ;  it  Avas,  therefoi-e, 
nothing  but  its  image  which  Avas  present  to  the  mind.  These  are 
the  obvious  dictates  of  reason ;  and  no  man  Avho  reflects,  ever 
doubted  that  the  existences  Avhich  Ave  consider,  Avhen  we  say,  thiK 
house  and  that  tree,  are  nothing  but  perceptions  in  the  mind,  and 
fleeting  copies  or  representations  of  other  existences,  Avhich  remain 
uniform  and  independent 

"  Do  you  folloAV  the  instincts  and  propensities  of  nature,  may  they 
say,  in  assenting  to  the  veracity  of  sense  ?  But  these  lead  you  to 
believe  that  the  A-ery  perception  or  sensible  image  is  the  external 
object.  Do  you  disclaim  this  principle,  in  order  to  embrace  a  more 
rational  opinion,  that  the  perceptions  are  only  representations  of 
something  external?  You  here  de])art  from  your  natural  propen- 
sities and  more  obvious  sentiments ;  and  yet  are  not  able  to  satisfy 
your  reason,  which  can  ne\'er  find  any  convincing  argument  from 
experience  to  prove  that  the  perceptions  are  connected  with  any 
external  objects."^ 

The  fact  that  consciousness  does  testify  to  an  immediate  knoAvl- 
edge  by  mind  of  an  object  different  from  any  modification  of  its 
own,  is  thus  admitted  even  by  those  philosophers  who  still  do  not 
hesitate  to  deny  the  truth  of  the  testimony;  for  to  say  that  all  men 
do  naturally  believe  in  such  a  knowledge,  is  only,  in  other  Avords,  to 
say  that  they  believe  it  upon  the  authority  of  consciousness.  A  fact 
of  consciousness,  and  a  fact  of  the  common  sense  of  mankind,  are 
only  vaiious  expressions  of  tlie  same  import.  We  may,  therefore^ 
lay  it  doAvn  as  an  undisputed  truth,  that  consciousness  gives,  as'  an 
ultimate  fact,  a  primitive  duality; — a  knowledge  of  the  ego  in  rela- 
tion and  contrast  to  the  non-efjo  ;  and  a  knowledire  of  the  non-earo 
ill  relation  and  contrast  to  the  ego.  The  ego  and  non-ego  are,  thus, 
given  in  an  original  synthesis,  as  conjoined  in  the  unity  of  knowl- 

1  Essays,  vol.  ii.  pp.  154,  155,  156,  157  (edit.  tlic  same  thing  is  acknowledged  by  Kant,  by 

1788).    Similar  confessions  are  made  by  Hume  Ficlite,  by  Scliellin<r,  by  Tonnemann,  by  Jac- 

in  his   Treatise,  of  Human  Nature,  vol.  i.  pp.  obi.     Several  of  these  testimonies  you  will 

330,  338,  a53,  358,  361,  369,  (original  edit  );  —  find  extracted  and  translated  in  a  note  of  my 

in  a  word,  you  may  read  from  330  to  370;  and  Discussiuns  on  Philosophy,  p  92. 


Lect.  XVI.  METAPHYSICS.  203 

edge,  and,  in  an  original  antithesis,  as  opposed  in  the  contrariety  of 
existence.     In  other  words,  we  are  conscious  of  them  in  an  indivisi- 
ble act  of  knowledge  together  and  at  once,  —  but  we  are  conscious 
of  them  as,  in  themselves,  different  and  exclusive  of  each  other. 
Again,  consciousness  not  only  gives  us  a  duality,  but  it  gives  its 
elements   in    equal   counterpoise    and   indepen- 
The  Ego  and  Non-       dencc.     The  cgo  and  non-ego  —  mind  and  mat- 
go   given     y   con        ^^^_  —  ^^^  not  onlv  ffivcn  toscether,  but  in  abso- 

sciousncss     in     equal  . 

counterpoise  and  inde-  lutc  coequality.  The  One  does  not  precede,  the 
pendence.  other   does   not  follow ;    and,    in   their   mutual 

relations,  each  is  equally  dependent,  equally 
independent.     Such  is  the  tact  as  given  in  and  by  consciousness. 

Philosophers  have  not,  however,  been  content  to 

As  many  different       acccpt  the  fact  in  its  integrity,  but  have  been 

philosophical  systems       pleased  to  acccpt  it  only  under  such  qualifica- 

originate  in  this  fact,         ,.  -^  -^     i    xi     •  ^  .        t       •  t 

"      ,    .,     .  tions  as  It  suited  their  systems  to  devise,     lu 

as  it  admits  of  van-  •' 

0U8  possible  modifi-  truth,  there  are  just  as  many  different  philosoph- 
cations.  ical  systems  originatiug  in  this  fact,  as  it  admits 

of  various  ])Ossible  modifications.  An  enumera- 
tion of  these  modifications,  accordingly,  affords  aii  enumeration  of 
philosophical  theories. 

In  the  first  place,  there  is  the  grand  division  of  i)hilosophers  into 

those  who  do,  and  those  who  do  not,  accept  the 

1.  Those  who  do,       f)iet  ill  its  integrity.'     Of  modern  philosophers, 

and  those  who  do  not,       .^j^^^^   .j||    nre\-ompivhende(l  un.ler  the   latter 

accept  in  its  integrity  r-      i         i> 

the  fact  of  the  Dual-  category,  whilc  of  tlic  toruicr,  it  we  do  not 
ity  of  Consciousness.       remouiit  to  the  sclioolmeii  and  the  ancients. — 

I  am  only  aware  of  a  single  philosopher-  betbre 
Re:  ,  who  did  not  reject,  at  least  in  part,  the  fact  as  consciousness 
affords  it.  As  it  is  always  expedient  to  possess  a  precise  iianic  for 
a  precise  distinction,  I  would  be  inclined  to  denominate  those  who 

implicitly  acquiesce  in  tlie  j)rimitive  diiality  as 
Tne  former  culled       ^^j^.^^^  j^^  ^-onsciousucss,  the  Xatural  Realists  or 

a^aturalists  or  Natural         '  ,     t^       i-  i       i     •        i  '  ■» 

j)y^ijj,(g  Natural    Dualists,   and    their  doctrine,    Natural 

Realism  or  Natural  Dualism. 
In  the  8(?cond  place,  the  ]ihilosophers  who  do  not  accept  the  fact, 
and  the  whole  fact,  iii.iy  be  divided  and  siibili- 

Tlie  latter,  variously  •  i     ^    •     .  •  i  i  •  ••! 

,...,'  ^       vuled  into  various  classes  by  various  iinncinles 

BUbdivided  ... 

of  distribution. 
The  first    subdivision   will   be    taken   from    the   total,  or   p.artial, 

1  See  the  Author's  Suppl.  Disser.  to  Hei'l's      John  Sergeant  is  subsequently  referred  to  by 
Works,  Note  C.  —  El).  Sir  W  llaniiltdii,  asboldingasiniilardoctriue 

2  This  philosopher  is  doubtless  Peter  Poiret.      in  a  parado.xical  form.     See  pj).  3ol.  ■'Vl.'V  -  Er^ 


ft04  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVI 

rejections  of  tlie  import  of  the  f;ict.  I  have  previously  shown  you 
that  to  deny  any  flu't  of  consciousness  as  an  actual  phajnoinenon  is 
utterly  impossible.  But,  though  necessarily  admitted  as  a  present 
phfenomenon,  the  import  of  this  })liaenomenon,  —  all  beyond  our 
actual  consciousness  of  its  existence,  may  be  denied.  We  are  able, 
without  self-conti-adiction,  to  suppose,  and,  consequently,  to  assert, 
that  all  to  which  the  j)haenomenon  of  which  we  are  conscious  refers, 
is  a  deception,  —  that,  for  exam])le,  the  past  to  Avhich  an  act  of 
memory  refers,  is  only  an  illusion  involved  in  our  consciousness  of 
the  present,  —  that  the  unknown  subject  to  which  every  phsenom- 
enon  of  which  we  are  conscious  involves  a  reference,  has  no  reality 
beyond  this  reference  itself,  —  in  short,  that  all  our  knowledge  of 

mind  or  matter,  is  only  a  consciousness  of  vari- 

Into   Realists    and  i  -,i  r-  \         i  mi  •      i 

,,.^.,.  ous  bundles  ot  baseless  appearances.     Ihis  doc- 

trine,  as  refusing  a  substantial  reality  to  the 
})haenomenal  existence  of  which  Ave  are  conscious,  is  called  Nihil- 
ism ;  and,  consequently,  philosophers,  as  they  affirm  or  deny  the 
authority  of  consciousness  in  guaranteeing  a  substratum  or  sub- 
stance to  the  manifestations  of  the  ego  and  non-ego,  are  divided 
into  Realists  or  Substantialists,  and  into  Nihilists  or  Non-Substan- 
tialists.  Of  2:)0sitive  or  dogmatic  Nihilism  there  is  no  example  in 
modern  philoso])hy,  for  Oken's  deduction  of  the  universe  from  the 
original  nothing,^  —  the  nothing  being  equivalent  to  the  Absolute 
or  God,  is  only  the  paradoxical  foundation  of  a  system  of  realism; 
and,  in  ancient  philosophy,  we  know  too  little  of  the  book  of  Gor- 
gias  the  Sophist,  entitled  Hepl  tov  fxr]  6vto<s,  ^  Trepl  ^vVews,^ —  Con- 
cerning  Nature  or  the  Non-Existent, —  to  be  able  to  affirm  whether 
it  were  maintained  by  him  as  a  dogmatic  and  bonajide  doctrine.  But 
as  a  skeptical  conclusion  from  the  premises  of  previous  philosophers 
Ave  have  an  illustrious  example  of  Nihilism  in  Hume;  and  the  cele- 
brated Fichte  admits  that  the  speculatiA'^e  principles  of  his  own  ideal- 
ism Avould,  unless  corrected  by  his  practical,  terminate  in  this  result.' 
The  Realists  or  Substantialists  are  again  divided  into  Dualists, 
and  into  Unitarians  or  Monists,  according  as 
Realists  divided  in-       ^^  ^^  ^^.^  ^^^^    Contented  with  the  testi- 

to    Hypothetical    Du-  /.  . 

aiis^s  and  Monists.  mony  of  consciousness  to  the  ultimate  duplicity 

of  subject  and  object  in  perception.  The  Dual- 
ists, of  whom  Ave  are  noAV  first  speaking,  are  distinguished  from  the 
Natural  Dualists  of  whom  Ave  formerly  spoke,  in  this,  —  that  the 

1  See  Olcen''$  Physinpliilosophy,  translated  for  ■5  See  a  remarkable  passage  in  the  Bestim- 
the  Ray  Society  by  Tulk,  j  31-43  — Ed.  mung  fies  Menscken,  p.  174,  (  Werke,  vol.  ii.  p. 

2  See  Sextus  Empiricus,  Adv   Math.  vii.  65.  245),  translated  by  Sir  AT.  Uamiltoa.    Reid's 
—  Ed.  Works,  p.  129.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XVI.  METAPHYSICS.  205 

latter  establish  the  existence  of  the  two  worlds  of  mind  and  mat' 
ter  on  tlie  immediate  knowledge  we  possess  of  both  series  of  phje- 
nomena, —  a  knowledge  of  which  consciousness  assures  us;  whereas 
the  former,  surrendering  the  veracity  of  consciousness  to  our  imme- 
diate knowledge  of  material  phaenomena,  and,  consequently,  our 
immediate  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  matter,  still  endeavor, 
by  various  hypotheses  and  reasonings,  to  maintain  the  existence 
of  an  unknown  external  world.  As  we  denominate  those  who 
maintain  a  dualism  as  involved  in  the  fact  of  consciousness,  Natural 
Dualists;  so  we  may  style  those  dualists  who  deny  the  evidence  of 
consciousness  to  our  immediate  knowledge  of  auffht  bevond  the 
sphere  of  mind,  Hypothetical  Dualists  or  Cosmothetic  Idealists. 
To  the  class  of  Cosmothetic  Idealists,  the  great  majority  of 
modern  philosophers  are  to  be  referred.  Deny- 
fhe  majority  of       j^g  .^j^  inmu'diate  or  intuitive  knowledc^e  .of  the 

modern    pliilosophers  ^  i  i-  i  •  i  "~      •         • 

belong  lo  ti>e  forn.er  external  reality,  whose  existence  they  mamtam, 
of  these  classes,  and  they,  of  course,  hold  a  doctrine  of  mediate  or 
are  subdivided  accord-       I'epresentative  perception;  and,  according  to  the 

ina;   to   tlieir  view   of  •  t/;      x-  /•  xi     x     i       ^    •  ^i 

,   .      .         various  modincations  oi  that  doctrine,  thev  are 

the  representation   in  ,  ...  . 

perception.  again  subdivided  into  those  who  view,  in  the 

immediate  object  of  perception,  a  representative 
entity  present  to  the  mind,  but  not  a  mere  mental  modification,  and 
into  those  who  hold  that  the  immediate  object  is  only  a  re])resenta- 
tive  modification  of  the  mind  itself  It  is  not  always  easy  to  deter- 
mine to  which  of  these  classes  some  ])hilosophers  belong.  To  the 
former,  or  class  holding  the  cruder  hypothesis  of  representation, 
certainly  belong  the  followers  of  Democritus  and  P^picurus,  those 
Aristotelians  who  held  the  vulgar  doctrine  of  sjiecies,  (Aristotle 
himself  was  j)robably  a  natural  dualist,)*  and  in  recent  times,  among 
many  others,  ^lalebraiiche,  Berkeley,  Clarke,  Newton,  Abraham 
Tucker,  etc.  To  these  is  also,  but  ])roblematically,  to  be  referred 
Locke.  To  the  second,  or  class  holding  the  finer  hyjiothesis  of 
representation,  belong,  without  any  doubt,  many  of  the  Platonists, 
Leibnitz,  Arnauld,  Crousaz,  Condillac,  Kant,  etc.,  and  to  this  class 
is  also  probably  to  be  refen-ed  Descartes.- 

The  philosopliical  Unitarians  or  Monists,  reject  the  testimony  of 
„    .  .       ^,.  .,  ,         consciousness  to  the  ultimate  dualitv  of  tlie  sul»- 

MonUts,  .subdivided,  ... 

ject  and  object  in  perception,  but  they  arrive  at 
the  unity  of  these  in  different  ways.     Some  admit  the  testimony  of 

1  Aristotle's  opinion   is  donbtful.      In   (lie  tlie  Aulliors  Notes, /iViV/'s  irori-^.  pp.  ;JiXi,  HSl!; 

De  Anima.  i.  5,  he  combats  the  theory  <it  Km-  and  M.  St.  llilaires  preface  to  his  translation 

pedochs,  that  like  is  known  by  like,  and  ap-  of  the  De  Anima,  p.  22.—  Ed. 
pears  as  a  natural  realist.     l?ut  in  the  yicom- 

ac/M-nn  KMiVt,  vi,  1.  he  adopts  the  principle  of  '-'  See   the   Author's   Dixcussiom,  p    o'  ieq 

similarity  as  the  basis  of  all  knowledge.    See  —Ed. 


206  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XVT. 

consciousness  to  the  equipoise  of  the  mental  and  material  phe- 
nomena, and  do  not  attempt  to  reduce  either  mind  to  matter,  or 
matter  to  mind.  They  reject,  liowever,  the  evidence  of  conscious- 
ness to  their  antithesis  in  existence,  and  maintain  that  mind  and 
matter  are   only  phnenomenal   modifications  of  the  same  common 

substance.      This    is    the    doctrine   of  Absolute 
Into,!.  Those  who       i.ientity,  — a  doctrine  of  which  the  most  illus- 

hold  tlie  doctrine  of  .  . 

Absolute  Identity;  trious  representatives  among  recent  philosophers 

are  Sehelling,  Hegel,  and  Cousin.  Others  again 
deny  the  evidence  of  consciousness  to  the  equipoise  of  the  subject 
and  object  as  coordinate  and  cooriginal  elements;  and  as  the  bal- 
ance is  inclined  in  favor  of  the  one  relative  or  the  other,  two  oppo- 
site schemes  of  psychology  are    determined.      If  the   subject   be 

taken  as  the  original  and  genetic,  and  the  object 

2.  Idealists-  .  , 

evolved   from  it  as  its  product,  the  theory  of 
Idealism  is  established.      On  the  other  hand,  if  the  object  be  as- 
sumed as  the  original  and  genetic,  and  the  sub- 

a  Materialists.  .  ^       -,    ^  ■  •  -,  ^         ^ 

ject  evolved  irom  it  as  its  product,  the  theory 
of  Materialism  is  established. 

In  regard  to  these  two  o})posite  schemes  of  a  one-sided  philoso- 
phy, I  would  at  present  make  an  observation  to 
How  a  philosophic-       Avhich  it  may  be  afterwards  necessary  to  recur 
ai  system  is  often  pre-       —  yj^.,  that  a  philosophical  system  is  often  pre- 
\en  e      r  m    a  nig       vented   from   ialliiisc   into   absolute  idealism  or 

into  absolute  idealism  _     _    ^ 

or  absolute  material-  absolute  materialism,  and  held  in  a  kind  of 
Jsm.  vacillating   equilibrium,  not  in  consequence   of 

being  based  on  the  fact  of  consciousness,  but 
from  the  circumstance,  that  its  materialistic  tendency  in  one  opinion 
haj)pens  to  be  counteracted  by  its  idealistic  tendency  in  another; — 
two  opposite  eiTors,  in  short,  cooperating  to  the  same  result  as  one 
truth.  On  this  ground  is  to  be  explained,  why  the  philosophy  of 
Locke  and  Condillac  did  not  more  easily  slide  into  materialism. 
Deinving  our  whole  knowledge,  mediately  or  immediately,  from 
the  senses,  this  philosophy  seemed  destined  to  be  fairly  analyzed 
into  a  scheme  of  materialism ;  but  from  this  it  was  for  a  long  time 
preserved,  in  consequence  of  involving  a  doctrine,  which,  on  the 
other  hand,  if  not  counteracted,  would  have  naturally  carried  it 
over  into  idealism.  This  was  the  doctrine  of  a  representative  per- 
ception. The  legitimate  issue  of  such  a  doctrine  is  now  admitted, 
on  all  hands,  to  be  absolute  idealism  ^  and  the  only  ground  on  which 
it  has  been  latterly  thought  possible  to  avoid  this  conclusion,  —  an 
appeal  to  the  natural  belief  of  mankind  in  the  existence  of  an 
external  world,  —  is,  as  I  showed  you,  incompetent  to  the  hyj)o- 


LecT.  XVI.  METAPHYSICS.  207 

thetical  dualist  or  cosmothetic  idealist.  In  lii.s  hands  such  an  appeal 
is  self-contradictory.  For  if  this  universal  belief  be  fairly  applied, 
it  only  proves  the  existence  of  an  outer  world  by  disproving  the 
hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception. 

To  recapitulate  what  I  have  now  said  :  —  The  pliilosophical  sys- 
tems concerning  the  relation  of  uiind  and  mat- 

Recapituiation   of       ^^^.^   ,^^.^   coextcnsivc   with   tlic   Various  i)0ssible 

lor6*'oiiifij. 

modes  in  which  the  fiict  of  the  Duality  of  Con- 
sciousness may  be  accepted  or  refused.  It  may  be  accepted  either 
wholly  and  without  reserve,  or  it  may  not.  The  former  alternative 
affords  tlie  class  of  Natural  Realists  or  Natural  Dualists. 

Those,  ayain,  who  do  not  accept  the  fact  in  its  absolute  integrity, 
are  subdivided  in  various  manners.  They  are,  first  of  all,  distin- 
guished into  Realists  or  Substantialists,  and  into  Nihilists,  as  they 
<lo,  or  do  not,  admit  a  subject,  or  subjects,  to  the  two  opposite  series 
of  pluenomena  which  consciousness  reveals.  The  fornun-  class  is 
again  distributed  into  Hypothetical  Dualists  or  Cosmothetic  Ideal- 
ists, and  into  Unitarians  or  Monists. 

The  Hy])othetical  Dualists  oi-  Cosmothetic  Idealists,  arc  divided, 
according  to  their  different  theories  of  the  representation  in  })er- 
ception,  into  those  who  view  in  the  object  immediately  perceived, 
a  tertium  quid  <liiferent  both  from  the  external  reality  and  from 
the  conscious  mind,  and  into  those  who  identify  this  objectt  with  a 
modification  of  the  mind  itself 

The  Unitarians  or  Zionists  fall  into  two  classes  as  they  do,  or  do 
not,  preserve  the  equilibrium  of  subject  and  object.  If,  admitting 
the  equilil)rium  of  these,  they  deny  the  reality  of  their  opposition, 
the  system  of  Absolute  Identity  emerges,  which  carries  thought 
and  extension,  mind  ami  matter,  up  into  modes  of  the  same  com- 
mon  substance. 

It  would  l)e  turning  aside  Irom  my  jtresent  ])urpose,  were  I  to 
attempt  any  articulate  refutation  of  these  various  systems.  What 
I  have  now  in  view  is  to  exhibit  to  you  how,  the  moment  that  the 
fact  of  consciousness  in  its  absolute  integrity  is  surrendered,  phi- 
losojdiy  at  once  falls  from  unity  and  truth  into  variety  and  error. 
In  reality,  by  the  very  act  of  refusing  any  one  datum  of  conscious- 
ness, ])hil()sopliy  invalidates  tlie  whole  crcclibility  of  consciousness, 
an<l  consciousm'ss  ruined  as  an  instrument,  ])hiloso])hy  is  extinct. 
Thus,  the  refusal  of  iiliilosophers  to  accept  the  fact  of  the  duality 
of  consciousness,  is  virtually  an  act  of  philosophical  suicide.  Their 
various  systems  are  now  oidy  so  many  empty  spectres,  —  so  many 
enchanted  corpses,  which  the  first  exorcism  of  tlie  skej^tic  reduces 
to  their  natural   nothinmiess.      The   mutual  ])olemic   of  these   svs' 


208  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVI 

terns  is  like  the  warfare  of  shadows;  as  tlie  heroes  in  Valhalla,  they 
hew  each  other  into  pieces,  only  in  a  twinkling  to  he  reunited,  aud 
again  to  amuse  themselves  in  other  bloodless  and  indecisive  con- 
tests.^ 

Having  now  given  you  a  general  view  of  the  various  systems  of 
philosophy,  in  their  mutual  relations,  as  founded 
Hypotheses   pro-       on  the  great  fact  of  the  Duality  of  Conscious- 
posed  in  regard  to  the       j-,ggg^  J  proceed,  in  Subordination  to  this  fact,  to 

mode     of  intercourse  .  i     •    ^  ^       j?  i    •       i?  i, 

^..   ,        ,       mve  vou  a  briei  account  or  certani  lamous  hy- 

between     Mind     and         t>  J  •/ 

Body.  potheses  which  it  is  necessary  for  you  to  know, 

—  hypotheses  proposed  in  solution  of  the  prob- 
lem of  how  intercourse  of  substances  so  opposite  as  mind  and  body 
could  be  accomplished.  These  hypotheses,  of  course,  belong  exclu- 
sively to  the  doctrine  of  Dualism,  for  in  the  Unitarian  system  the 
difficulty  is  resolved  by  the  annihilation  of  the  o])position,  and  the 
reduction  of  the  two  substances  to  one.     The  hypotheses  I  allude 

to,  are  known  under  the  names,  1°,  Of  the  sys- 

Four  in  number.  ,  /?    a      •   ^  j:-  r\  •  i    /'  i  .^o 

tern  of  Assistance  or  oi  Occasional  Causes ;  2  , 
Of  the  Preestablished  Harmony;  3°,  Of  the  Plastic  Medium  ;  and,  4°, 
Of  Physical  Influence.  The  first  belongs  to  Descartes,  De  la  Forge, 
Malebranche,  and  the  Cartesians  in  general ;  the  second  to  Leibnitz 
and  Wolf,  though  not  universally  adopted  by  their  school;  the  third 
was  an  ancient  opinion  revived  in  modern  times  by  Cudworth  and 
Leclerc;^  the  fourth  is  the  common  doctrine  of  the  Schoolmen, 
and,  though  not  explicitly  enounced,  that  generally  prevalent  at 
present; — among  modern  philosophers,  it  has  been  expounded  with 
great  perspicuity  by  Euler."'  We  shall  take  these  in  their  order. 
The  hypothesis  of  Divine  Assistance   or  of  Occasional  Causes, 

sets  out  from  the  apparent  impossibility  involved 

1.  Occasional    Causes.         .     -r^       ,.  /.  ,       i  •      x-  "^     -u    *. 

in  Dualism  of  any  actual  communication  between 
a  spiritual  and  a  material  substance,  —  that  is,  between  extended 
and  non-extended  existences;  and  it  terminates  in  the  assertion, 
that  the  Deity,  on  occasion  of  the  aifections  of  matter  —  of  the 
motions  in  the  bodily  organism,  excites  in  the  mind  correspondent 
thoughts  and  representations;  and  on  occasion  of  thoughts  or  rep- 
resentations arising  in  the  mind,  that  He,  in  like  manner,  produces 
the  correspondent  movements  in  the  body.  But  more  explicitly : 
— "  God,  according  to  the  advocates  of  this  scheme,  governs   the 

1  This  simile  is  tiaken  from  Kant,  Kriti/c  der       CTioisee,  vol.  ii.  p.  107,  et  seq.    See  also  Leib- 
reinen  Vernunft,  p.  784  (edit.  1799)  —  Ed.  nitz,  Cnnsiderations  sitr  la  Principe  de  Vie.     Op. 

fra,  edit.  Erdmann,  p.  429.  —  Ed. 

2  Cudworth,  Intellectual  System  of  the    Uni-  3  Lettres  d  vne    Princesse  d'  Allemagne,   part 
verse,  b.  i.  c.  iii   §  37.     Leclerc,  Bibliotheque      ii.  let.  14,  ed.  Couruot.  —  Ed.J 


Lect.  XVI.  METAPHYSICS.  ^09 

universe,  fincl  its  constituent  existences,  by  the  laws  according  to 
which  He  Iiivs  created  them ;  and  as  the  world  was  originally  calk'<1 
into  being  by  a  mere  fiat  of  the  divine  will,  so  it  owes  the  continu- 
ance of  its  existence  from  moment  to  moment  only  to  the  unre- 
mitted perseverance  of  the  same  volition.  Let  the  sustaining 
energy  of  the  divine  will  cease,  but  for  an  instant,  and  the  universe 
lapses  into  nothingness.  The  existence  of  created  things  is  thu^ 
exclusively  maintained  by  a  ci*eation,  as  it  were,  incessantly  re- 
newed. God  is,  thus,  the  necessary  cause  of  every  modification 
of  body,  and  of  every  modification  of  mind ;  and  his  efficiency  i^ 
gufticient  to  afford  an  explanation  of  the  union  and  intercourse  of 
extended  and   unextended   substances. 

"External  objects  determine  certain  movements  in  our  bodily 
organs  of  sense,  and  these  movements  are,  by  the  nerves  and  ani- 
mal spirits,  propagated  to  the  brain.  The  brain  does  not  act  imme- 
diately and  really  upon  the  soul ;  the  soul  has  no  direct  cognizance 
of  any  modification  of  the  brain ;  this  is  impossible.  It  is  God 
himself  avIio,  by  a  law  which  he  has  established,  when  movements 
are  determined  in  the  brain,  produces  analogous  modifications  in 
the  conscious  mind.  In  like  manner,  suppose  the  mind  has  a  voli- 
tion to  move  the  arm ;  this  volition  is,  of  itself,  inefficacious,  bui 
God,  in  virtue  of  the  same  law,  causes  the  answering  motion  in  oui 
limb.  The  body  is  not,  therefore,  the  real  cause  of  the  mental 
modifications;  nor  the  mind  the  real  cause  of  the  bodily  movements. 
Nevertheless,  as  the  soul  would  not  be  modified  without  the  antece- 
dent changes  in  the  body,  nor  the  body  moved  without  the  antece- 
dent determination  of  the  soul,  —  these  changes  and  determinations 
are  in  a  certain  sort  necessary.  But  this  necessity  is  not  absolute ; 
it  is  only  hypothetical  or  conditional.  The  organic  changes,  and 
the  mental  determinations,  are  nothing  but  simple  conditions,  and 
not  real  causes ;  in  short,  they  are  occasions  or  occasional  causes."  ^ 
This  doctrine  of  occasional  causes  is  called,  likewise,  the  Hypothesis 
of  Assistance,  as  supposing  the  imtnediate  cooperation  or  interven- 
tion of  the  Deity.  It  is  involved  in  the  Cartesian  theory,  and, 
therefore,  belongs  to  Descartes  ;  but  it  was  fully  evolved  by  De  la 
Forge,  ]Malebranche,  and  other  followers  of  Descartes.^  It  may, 
however,  be  traced  far  higher.  I  find  it  first  explicitly,  and  in 
all  its  extent,   maintained    in   the    commencement  of  the   twelfth 


1  [Laromigui'.-re   Le^nn.t  tie  PhCosopMe,  torn.       la  Forpe,  Traitc  de  V  Efprit  <ir  r  Homme,  c. 
ii.  p.  255-G.J  xvi.     Mak'brunclia,  Reckerche  <U  la  Vcriic,  lib. 

vi.  part  ii.  c  3,  Enireliejis  sur  la  iletaph]/ttgut , 

2  See  Descartes  Princtpia,  part  ii.  i,  36.    Dt      Ent.  vii.  —  Ed 

27 


210  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XVL 

century  by  Algazel,^  or  Elgazali,  of  Bagdad,  sumamed  the  Imaum 
of  the  world ;  —  from  him  it  passed  to  the  schools  of  the  West,  and 
many  of  the  most  illustrious  philosophers  of  the  middle  ages  main- 
tained that  God  is  the  only  real  agent  in  the  universe.^  To  this 
doctrine  Dr.  Reid  inclines,  ^  and  it  is  expressly  maintained  by  Mr. 
Stewart.  * 

This  hypothesis  did   not  satisfy  Leibnitz.     "  He  reproaches  the 

Cartesians  with  converting  the   universe  into  a 

2.    Preestabiished       perpetual  miracle,  and  of  explaininac  the  natural. 

Harmony.  ^       ^  '  _  m,  •  ,  i  -,  ■ 

by  a  supernatural,  order,  ihis  would  annihi- 
late philosophy  ;  for  philosophy  consists  in  the  investigation  and 
discovery  of  the  second  causes  which  produce  the  various  phaeno- 
mena  of  the  universe.  *  You  degrade  the  Divinity,  he  subjoined  ; 
—  you  make  him  act  like  a  watchmaker,  who,  having  constructed  a 
timepiece,  would  still  be  obliged  himself  to  turn  the  hands,  to  make 
it  mark  the  hours.  A  skilful  mechanist  would  so  frame  his  clock 
that  it  would  go  for  a  certain  period  without  assistance  or  interposi- 
tion. So  when  God  created  man,  he  disposed  his  organs  and  facul- 
ties in  such  a  manner  that  they  are  able  of  themselves  to  execute 
their  functions  and  maintain  their  activity  from  birth  to  death."* 
Leibnitz  thought  he  had  devised  a  more  philosophical  scheme, 
in  the  hypothesis  of  the  preestabiished  or  predetermined  Har- 
mony, {Systema  Harmonim  PrcestdhiliUe  vd  Prmdeterminatm.') 
This  ■  hypothesis  denies  all  real  connection,  not  only  between  spir- 
itual and  material  substances,  but  between  substances  in  general ; 
and  explains  their  apparent  communion  from  a  previously  de- 
creed coiirrangement  of  the  Supreme  Being,  in  the  following  man- 
ner :  — "  God,  before  creating  souls  and  bodies,  knew  all  these 
souls  and  bodies ;  he  knew  also  all  possible  souls  and  bodies.  ^ 
Now,  in  this  infinite  variety  of  possible  souls  and  bodies,  it 
was    necessary   that  there   should    be  souls  whose  series  of  per* 

1  In  his  Destructio  Philosophorum,  now  only         3  See  Works,  pp.  257,  527.  —Ed. 

known  throusrh  the  refutation  of  it  by  Aver-  ...  .„    .„     .„         , 

■^                      *  See  Works,  vol.  n.  pp.  9<,  4i6 — 4(9;    vol 
roes,  called  Destructio  Destnictw/iis,  preservea       ..  „„.   „  _  „„„ ^^  „ 

in  a  barbarous  Latin  tran.^Iation,  in  the  ninth  •    I-        >        > 

volume  of  Aristotle's  Works,  Venice,  1550.    A  a  Systcme  Nouveau  de  la  Nature,  ^13.    Operu, 

full  account  of  this  treatise  is  given  in  Ten-  ed.  Erdmann,  p.   127.    Cf.    Thcodicce,   i   61, 

remann's  Geschickte  der   Philosophie,  vol.  viii.  JiiV/.,  p.  520.  —  Ed. 

V-SSl  et  seq.   See  AlsoDcgerando,  Histoire  Com-  „  ,_           .     .,        ,             ..   „,,  ..,  ~    ■•• 

t^       '          '                       S  •>  [Laromieuiere,  Lecons,  n.  2;)6-71  Troisiemt 

parcf,  vol.  iv.  p.  226.  — Ed.  t- ,    •     •              .       r^              a    -c    ^                     ^o^ 

'^        '                r               .„      ,,  .                    ,  Edaircissement.     Opera,  ed.  Erdmann,  p.  1.34 

2  Averroes,  1.   c.  p.  56:    "  Agens  combus-  -  _ 

....  .  -^Ed.  ■~. 

tionis  creavit  nigredmem  in  stuppa  et  eoni- 

bustionem    in   partibus  ejus,   et   posuit  earn  "  Systcme  Nouv^au  de  la  Nature,  $  14.     Tlie- 

combustarn  et  cinerem,  et  est  Deus  gloriosus  odiccr,  5  62.    These  passages  contain  the  sub- 

medianfibus  angelis,   aut  immediate."    See  stance  of  the  remarks  in  the  text,  but  not  the 

itennemann,  1.  c.  p.  405.  — Ed.  words.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XVI.  METAPHYSICS.  211 

ceptions  and  determinations  would  correspond  to  the  series  of 
movements  which  some  of  these  possibh^  bodies  would  exe- 
cute; for  in  an  infinite  number  of  souls,  and  in  an  infinite  num- 
ber of  bodies,  there  would  be  found  all  possible  combinations. 
Now,  suppose  that,  out  of  a  soul  whose  series  of  modifications 
corresponded  exactly  to  the  series  of  modifications  which  a  certain 
body  was  destined  to  ])crf()rm,  and  of  this  body  whose  successive 
movements  Avere  correspondent  to  the  successive  modifications 
of  this  soul,  CJod  should  make  a  man,  —  it  is  evident,  that  be- 
tween the  two  substances  which  constitute  this  man,  there  would 
subsist  the  most  })erfect  harmony.  It  is,  thus,  no  longer  neces- 
sary to  de\ise  theories  to  account  for  the  reciprocal  intercourse 
of  the  material  and  the  spiritual  substances.  These  have  no  com- 
naunication,  no  mutual  influence.  The  soul  passes  from  one  state, 
from  one  perception,  to  another  by  virtue  of  its  own  nature.  The 
body  executes  the  series  of  its  movements  without  any  participatioi> 
or  interference  of  the  soul  in  these.  The  soul  and  body  are  like 
two  clocks  accurately  regulate<l,  which  point  to  the  same  hour  and 
minute,  although  the  s))riiig  which  gives  motion  to  the  one  is  not 
the  sjiring  which  gives  motion  to  the  other. '  Thus  the  harmony 
which  a])pears  to  combine  the  soul  and  body  is,  however,  indepen- 
dent of  any  reciprocal  action.  This  harmony  was  established  be- 
fore the  creation  of  man  ;  and  hence  it  is  called  the  preestablished 
or  ])redetermined  harmony.'" - 

It  is  needless  to  attempt  a  refutation  of  this  hypothesis,  which  h^ 
author  himself  probably  regarded  more  as  a  specimen  of  ingenuity 
than  as  a  serious  doctrine. 

The  third  hypothesis  is  that  of  the  Plastic  Medium  between  the 
^  ,„    ^.  „  ,.  soul  and  body.     "This  medium  i)articipates  of 

.3.  Plastic  Medium.  '^  _  *  _    ' 

the  two  natures;  it  is  ]»artly  material,  partly 
si)iritual.  As  material,  it  can  be  acted  on  by  the  body;  and  as 
spiritual,  it  can  act  upon  the  mind.  It  is  the  niiddle  term  of  a  corr- 
tinuous  proportion.  It  is  a  bridge  thrown  over  the  abyss  which 
separates  matter  from  spirit.  This  hypotliesis  is  too  absurd  for 
refutation  ;  it  annihilates  itself  Between  an  extended  and  unex- 
tended  substance,  there  can  hv  no  mifldlc  existence;  [these  bi-iiig 
not  simply  (lifrerent  in  degree,  but  contradictory.]  If  the  medium 
be  neither  body  nor  soul,  it  is  a  chimera;  if  it  is  at  once  body  and 
soul,  it  is  coTitradictory  ;  or  if,  to  avoid  the  contradiction,  it  is  said 
to  l:)e,  like  us,  the  union  of  soul  and  body,  it  is  itself  in  want  of  a 
medium." ' 

I  Troisiemt  Eelaircifsemrnt.    Op«ra, edit.  Erd-  '.i  [Laromiffuiire /-<^fo(i-«,  torn,  ii   p.  2r)7-S.I 

mann,  p.  136.  —  Eu.  3  (Laromiguiere,  Lemons,  torn.  ii.  p.  'i=i:?-4  ' 


212  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVI. 

The  fourth  hypothesis  is  that  of  Pliysical  Influence,  {Irifluxus 

J^hysicus.)     "  On  this  doctrine,  external  objects 

4.       ysica     n  u-       jiggct  our  senses,  and  the  organic  motion  they 

ence.  .  .  ®  .  ^      •' 

determine  is  communicated  to  the  brani.  The 
brain  acts  upon  the  soul,  and  the  soul  has  an  idea,  —  a  ])ereeption. 
The  mind  thus  possessed  of  a  perception  or  idea,  is  aifected  for 
good  or  ill.  If  it  suifers,  it  seeks  to  be  relieved  of  pain.  It  acts  in 
its  turn  ujion  the  brain,  in  which  it  causes  a  movement  in  the  ner- 
vous system ;  the  nervous  system  causes  a  muscular  motion  in  the 
linibs,  —  a  motion  directed  to  remove  or  avoid  the  object  which 
occasions  the  sensation  of  ])aiii. 

"  The  brain  is  the  seat  of  the  soul,  and,  on  this  hypothesis, 
the  soul  has  been  compared  to  a  spider  seated  in  the  centre  of 
its  web.  The  moment  the  least  agitation  is  caused  at  the  ex- 
tremity of  this  web,  the  insect  is  advertised  and  put  upon  the 
watch.  In  like  manner,  the  mind  situated  in  the  brain  has  a 
point  on  which  all  the  nervous  filaments  converge ;  it  is  informed 
of  what  passes  at  the  diftereut  i)arts  of  the  body ;  and  forthwith  it 
takes  its  measures  accordingly.  The  body  thus  acts  with  a  real 
cfiiciency  on  the  mind,  and  the  mind  acts  with  a  real  efficiency  upon 
the  body.  This  action  or  influence  being  real,  —  physical,  in  the 
course  of  nature,  —  the  body  exerts  a  physical  influence  upon  the 
soul,  the  soul  a  physical  influence  upon  the  body. 

"  This  system  is  simple,  but  it  affords  us  no  help  in  explaining  the 
mysterious  union  of  an  extended  and  an  unextended  substance. 

'Tangere  eiiini  ct  tanjri  nisi  corpus  nulla  potest  res.'  ^ 

Nothing  can  touch  and  be  touched  but  what  is  extended  ;  and  if 
the  soul  be  unextended,  it  can  have  no  connection  by  touch  with 
the  body,  and  the  physical  influence  is  inconceivable  or  contra- 
dictory." 2 

If  we  consider   these  hypotheses  in  relation    to  their  historical 
manifestation,  —  the    doctrine    of    Physical    In- 
Historical     order       flueuce  would    staud    first ;    for    this    doctrine, 
«f  these  hypotheses.       ^^^^.^j^    ^^^^^    ^^^^     formally  developed  into   sys- 

Physical        influence,  '  •'  i 

£^,  tem  by  the  later  Peripatetics,  was  that  preva- 

lent in  the  earlier  schools  of  Greece.  The 
Aristotelians,  —  who  held  that  the  soul  was  the  substantial  form, 
the  vital  principle,  of  the  body,  that  the  soul  was  all  in  the 
whole  and  all  in  every  part  of  the  body,  —  naturally  allowed  a  re- 
ciprocal   influence    of   these.     By  influence,    (in    Latin    injluxus,) 

1  Lucretius,  i.  305.— Ed.  2  [Laromiguifere,  Lemons,  iota.,  ii.  p.  251—3.] 


Lect.  XVI. 


METAPHYSICS. 


2U 


you  are  to  understand  the  relation  of  a  cause  to  its  efFeet,  and 
the  term,  now  adopted  into  every  vulvar  language  of  Europe, 
was  brought  into  use  principally  by  the  authority  of  Suarez,  a 
Spanish  Jesuit,  who  flourished  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  and 
beginning  of  the  seventeenth  centuries,  and  one  of  the  most  illus- 
trious metaj)hysicians  of  inodern  times.  By  him  a  cause  is  defined, 
I*rincipium  per  se  influens  esse  in  aliud.  ^  This  definition,  how- 
ever, and  the  use  of  the  metaphysical  term  hijluence,  (for  it  is  noth- 
ing more,)  are  not,  as  is  su])])Osed,  original  with  him.  They  are  to 
be  found  in  the  pseudo-Aristotelic  treatise  De  Causis.  This  is  a 
translation  from  the  Arabic,  but  a  translation  made  many  centuries 
before  Suarez.  ^     l>nt  tliis  by  the  way. 

The  second  hypothesis  in  chronological  order,  is  that  of  the  Plas- 
tic Medium.     It  is  to  be  traced  to  Plato.     That 
Plastic  Medium,  ...c-       ..jjiiosopher,  iu   illustrating  the  relation  of  the 
two  constituents  of  man,  says  that  the  soul  is  in 
the  body  like  a  sailor  in  a  shi]);  that  the  soul  employs  the  body  as 
its  instrument ;  but  that  the  energy,  or  life  and  sense  of  the  body,  is 
the  manifestation  of  a  difterent  substance,  —  of  a  substance   which 
holds  a  kind  of  intermediate  existence  between  mind  and  matter. 
This  conjecture,  which  Plato  only  obscurely  hinted  at,  was  elaborated 
with  ))eculiar  partiality  by  his  folloAvers  of  the  Alexandrian  school, 
and,  in  their  psychology,  the  o;(os,  or  vehicle  of  the  soul,  the  me<liuni 
through  which  it  is  united  to  the  body,  is  a  prominent  element  and 
distinctive;  principle."     To  this  opinion   St.  Austin,*   among    other 


I  Pispiiuuionts  Metapkysic(F,  Disp.  xii.,  j  ii. 
4.  -  Ki). 

-  The  Lihellux  ih  Cniisis  is  printed  in  a  T/iltin 
version  made  from  a  Hebrew  one,  in  tlie 
seventh  volume  of  the  hatin  edition  of  Arit<- 
totles  Works,  Venice,  155<),  f.  144.  It  has 
been  attributed  to  Aristotle,  to  Aveinpaee.  to 
AlCarabi,  mid  to  I'roehis.  I'lie  above  deli- 
nition  does  not  occur  in  it  verbatim,  tliou^rli 
it  may  be  gathered  in  substance  from  Prop. 
I.  — Ed. 

3  The  pa.xsage  referred  to  in  Plato  is  jirob- 
«hly  Ti7)itTu.i,  ]).  tlil :  Oi  5t  ixijxuvfJi(i>oi  Trap- 
oAo/SoVrfS  apx^y  ^"XV^  o^dfaToi',  rh  utra 
TovTo  dvriTbv  ffiifia  ourf;  irfpifTopvfvaaf 
0-x^nij.oi  T(  iTui/  tJ»  (Twua  fSiiirai'  k.t.\.  This 
passafje,  as  well  as  the  simile  of  tlie  chariot  in 
the  PhfT'lnis.  \t.  21t>,  were  interpreted  in  tliis 
fense  by  the  later  Plntonists.  See  Ficinus, 
Theolngia  Platonica,  lib.  xviii.  c.  4:  "Ex  quo 
•equitur  rationales  animas  tan<)uani  niedias 


tales  esse  debere,  ut  virtute  ciuidem  semper 

separabiles  sint, acta  autem  siut 

semper  conjuncta?,  quia  familiare  corpus  nan- 
ciscunturex  a'there,quod  servant  per  immor- 
talitatem  propriam  inimortale.  (|Uod  Plato 
eiininn  tum  deoruni  tuin  animaruni  voi'al  iu 
I'hadro,  veliiculuni  in  Tinueo.'"  I'he  v/i//)  is 
more  definitely  expressed  by  AlaximusTyrius, 
Diss.  xl.  «  (referred  to  by  Stallbaum.  on  the 
Thnrruf,  1.  C):  Oux  ^P"S  xa]  rhi/  fi'  tF;  da- 
AoTTj;  ttKovv,  iv^a  d  fxef  Kvfifpf-nrT]s  &p- 
Xft.  OJS  ^vxh  cdfiaros,  t)  6e  vovs  6.pxfTat, 
iy  inrh  ypvxrj^  <ra>na.  Cf.  also  Proclus.  Inst. 
Theol.  c.  aOti  el  ser/. ;  CudwoiHl,  IntfUectunI  Sijs- 
tfm,  b.  i.  c.  V.  §  3.  Platncr,  Pliil.  Aphorisnien, 
i.  )).  r)'27.  — Ed.  • 

t  ."^t.  Aiijiustin  seems  to  have  adopted  tho 
ancient  anil  Platonic  dopma  that  tiiaiiT  (v\Tf) 
is  incorporeal  ( Off w^oTos.)  He  n-jianled  >nnt- 
ter  as  "quiddam  inter  formatum  ct  nihil,  neo 
formatum  nee  nihil,  informe  prop«  nihil." 
Con/fssioiis.  lib.  xii.  c.  vi.  — Ed. 


214  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVI 

Christian  fathers,  was  inclined,  and,  in  modern  times,  it  has  been 
revived  and  modified  by  Gassendi,^  Cudworth,^  and  Le  Clerc.^ 

Descartes  agrees  with  the  Platonists  in  opposition  to  the  Aristote- 
lians, that  the  soul  is  not  the  substantial  form 

Occasional    Causes,         ^^  ^j^^   ^^^       ^^^  . .    ^^^j^g^tg^    ^-^^^   •,.   ^,      ^^  ^ 
third.  ... 

snigle  ponit  in  the  brain  —  viz.,  the  pineal  gland. 
The  pineal  gland,  he  supposes,  is  the  central  j^oint  at  which  the 
organic  movements  of  the  body  terminate,  when  conveying  to  the 
mind  the  determinations  to  A'oluntary  motion.''  But  Descartes  did 
not  allow,  like  the  Platonists,  any  intermediate  or  connecting  sub- 
stance. The  nature  of  the  connection  he  himself  does  not  very 
explicitly  state ;  —  but  his  disciples  have  evolved  the  hypothesis, 
already  explained,  of  Occasional  Causes,  in  which  God  is  the  con- 
necting principle,  —  an  hypothesis  at  least  implicitly  contained  in 
liis  philosophy.'' 

finally,  Leibnitz  and  Wolf  agree  with  the  Cartesians,  that  there 

is   no   real,  but   only   an   apparent   intercourse 

I'reestablished    Har-         i,  .-i  ii^i  rn  i-^i- 

between    mmd    and    body.       lo    explam    this 

mouy,  fourth.  ,  ■'  '■ 

apj^arent  intercourse,  they  do  not,  however,  resort 
to  the  continual  assistance  or  interposition  of  the  Deity,  but  have 
recourse  to  the  supposition  of  a  harmony  between  mind  and  body, 
established  before  the  creation  of  either." 

All  these  theories  are  unphilosoj)hical,  because  th-ey  all  attempt  to 

establish  something  beyond  the  sphere  of  obser- 
hi*^^h^'T   *^*^""        vation,  and,  consequently,  beyond  the  sphere  of 

genuine  philosophy  ;  and  because  they  are  either, 
like  the  Cartesian  and  Leibnitzian  theories,  contradictions  of  the 
fact  of  consciousness ;  or,  like  the  two  other  hypotheses,  at  variance 
with  the  fact  whicli  they  suppose.  What  St.  Austin  so  admirably 
says  of  the  substance,  either  of  mind  or  of  body,  — "  Materiam 
spiritumque  cognoscendo  ignorari  et  ignorando  cognosci,"' — I 
would  exhort  you  to  adopt  as  your  opinion  in  regard  to  the  irtiion  of 
these  two  existences.  In  short,  in  the  words  of  Pascal,®  "  Man  is  to 
himself  the  mightiest  prodigy  of  nature  ;  for  he  is  unable  to  conceive 
Avhat  is  body,  still  less  what  is  mind,  but  least  of  all  is  he  able  to 
conceive  how  a  body  can  be  united  to  a  mind  ;  yet  this  is  his  jjvoper 

1  Gassendi,  in  his  /ViJ/s/ca,  divides:  the  liu-  *  De  Pa.'!sio7iibusAnima,  art.  31,33.    De  Horn- 

man  soul  into  two  parts,  the  one  rational  and  inf,  art.  63. — Ed. 

incorporeal,   the  other  corporeal,  including  .,  See  above,  p.  209,  note  1.  — Ed. 
the  nutritive  and  sensitive  faculties.    The  lat- 


fi  [On  these  hypotheses  in  general,  see  Zed- 
ler's  Lrxicon,  v.  Seele,  p.  98  et  seq  ] 


ter  he  regards  as  the  medium  of  connection 

between  the  rational  soul  and  the  body.    See 

Pp«ro,  vol.  ii.  p.  256,  1658.  — Ed.  "  Confessions,  xii.  5.    See  am?,  p.  98. —  Ed. 

2  See  above,  p.  208,  note  1.  —  Ed.  8  Pensees,  partie  i.  art.  vi..  26.     Vol.  ii.  p 

>  See  above  p.  208,  note  1.  —  Ed.  74,  edit.  Faugere.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XVI.  METAPHYSICS.  215 

being."  A  contented  ignorance  is,  indeed,  wiser  than  a  presump- 
tuous knowledge  ;  but  this  is  a  lesson  which  seems  the  last  that 
philosophers  are  willing  to  learn.  In  the  words  of  one  of  the 
acutest  of  modern  thinkers^  —  "  Magna  inirao  maxima  pars  sapientiae 
est,  quaedam  aequo  animo  nescire  velle." 

1  JaliiM  Cxiiar  Scaliger.     The  passage  is  quoted  more  correctly  in  the  Author's  Dueu»- 
Motu,^.  640.— Ed. 


1 


LECTURE    XVII. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,  — GENERAL    PH^.NOMENA,  — ARE  WE  ALWAYS 

CONSCIOUSLY    ACTIVE?- 

The  second  General  Fact  of  Consciousness  which  we  shall  con- 
sider, and  out  of  which  several  questions  of  great 
Activity  and  Passiv-       interest  arise,  is  the  fact,  or  coirelative  facts,  of 

ity  of  Mind.  ,         ...  ,,-»        ...         />-»r*i 

the  Activity  and  Passivity  oi  Mind. 
There  is  no  pure  activity,  no  pure  passivity  in  creation.     All  things 
in  the  universe  of  nature  are  reciprocally  in  a 
No  pure  activity  or       ^^^^^   ^^  continual   action    and   counter-action ; 

passivitv  in  creation.  •  t  •  ^  /~^     ^ 

they  are  always  active  and  passive  at  once,  (jod 
alone  must  be  thought  of  as  a  being  active  without  any  mixture  of 
passivity,  as  his  activity  is  subjected  to  no  limitation.  But  precisely 
because  it  is  unlimited,  is  it  for  us  wholly  incomprehensible. 

Activity  and  passivity  are  not,  therefore,  in  the  manifestations  of 

mind,    distinct   and    independent    phgenomena. 

Activity  and  Passiv-       This  is  a  great,  though  a  common  ei-ror.     They 

ity  always  conjoined  in       ^^^  alwavs  conjoined.     There  is  no  operation  of 

the  manifestations  of  .,,".,."  ,  ,.  rf     ^'  i.*   -l 

.  ,  mmd  which  is  i)urelv  active  ;  no  anection  which 

mind.  I  «  ' 

is  purely  passive.  In  every  mental  modification 
action  and  passion  are  the  two  necessary  elements  or  factors  of 
which  it  is  composed.  But  though  both  are  always  present, 
each  is  not,  however,  always  present  in  equal  quantity.  Sometimes 
the  one  constituent  preponderates,  sometimes  the  other;  and  it  is 
from  the  preponderance  of  the  active  element  in  some  modifications, 
of  the  passive  element  in  others,  that  we  distinguish  these  modifica- 
tions by  different  names,  and  consider  them  as  activities  or  passiv- 
ities according  as  they  approximate  to  one  or  other  of  the  two 
factors.  Thus  faculty^  operatio)!^  energy^  are  words  that  we  employ 
to  designate  the  manifestations  in  which  activity  is  predominant. 
Faculty  denotes  an  active  poAvcr ;  mtion,  operation^  energy^  denote 
its  present  exertion.  On  the  other  hand,  capacity  expresses  a  pas- 
sive power ;  affection^  jx/ssio/i,  express  a  present  suffering.  The 
terms  mode,  modification,  state,  may  be  used  indifferently  to  signify 


Lect.  XVII.  METAPHYSICS.  217 

both  phajnomena  ;  but  it  must  be  acknowledged  that  these,  especially 
the  word  state.,  are  now  closely  associated  with  the  passivity  of  mind, 
which  they,  therefore,  tend  rather  to  suggest.     The  passivity  of  mind 
is  expressed  by  another  term,  receptimty;  for  passivity  is  only  the 
condition,  the  necessary  antecedent  of  activity,  only  the  property 
possessed  by  the  mind  of  standing  in  relation  to  certain  foreign 
causes,  —  of  receiving  from  them  impressions,  determinations  to  act. 
It  is  to  be  observed,  that  we  are  never  directly  conscious  of  pas- 
sivity.    Consciousness  only  commences  with,  is 
We  are  never  directly       ^^j    cognizant  of,  the  reiiction  consequent  u})on 

conscious  of  passivity.  .'         ^  ^         ^  i     i  . 

the  foreign  deterrnniation  to  act,  and  this  reac- 
tion is  not  itself  passive.  In  so  far,  therefore,  as  we  are  conscious, 
we  are  active  ;  wliethei-  there  may  be  a  mental  activity  of  which  we 
are  not  conscious,  is  another  question.' 

There  are  certain  arduous  problems  connected  with  the  activity 
of  mind,  which  will  be  more  appropriately  considered  in  a  subse- 
(pient  ])art  of  the  course,  when  we  come  to  speak  of  the  Inferences 
fi-om  the  Ph?enomenology  of  Mind,  or  of  Metai)hysics  Proper.  At 
present,  I  shall  only  treat  of  those  questions  Avhich  are  conversant 
about  the  immediate  ])lu'enomena  of  activity.  Of  these,  the  first 
that  I  shall  consider  is  one  of  considerable  interest,  and  which,  though 

variously  determined  by  different  ])liil()Sophers, 
I  he  quectioii,  Are       j^^g  j^^^.  gggj^^  ^q  ]jp  ^eyoud  the  Sphere  of  obser- 

we  always coiiscioush-  .  tut  i  •  tt'-i       i 

active?  raised  vatiou.      I  allude  to  the  question,  \\  Iiether  we 

are  alwpvs  consciouslv  active  '? 
It  is  evident  that  this  question  is  not  convertible  with  llie  question. 
Have  we  always  a  memory  of   our  conscious- 
DistinguisLed  from       j^ggg  9  _  for  the  latter  i)roblem  must  be  at  once 

otliei-  <|iiesti()iis.  .  r     •        i 

answered  in  the  negative.  It  is  also  evident,  tiiat 
we  must  exclude  the  consideration  of  those  states  in  \\liich  the 
mind  is  apparently  without  conscioiv^ness,  but  in  regard  to  which,  in 
reality,  we  can  obtain  no  information  from  experiment^  Concerning 
tliese  we  must  be  contented  to  remain  in  ignorance;  at  leaSt  oidy  to 
extend  to  them  the  analogical  conclusions  wliich  our  obsci-vations  on 
those  within  the  sphere  of  exj>enment  warrant  us  inferring.  Our 
question,  as  one  of  possible  solulioii,  must,  tliiTctore,  be  limited  to 
the  states  of  sleep  and  soniii.iiiibiilisin.  to  the  (.'xclusion  of  those 
states  of  iiisensibilitv  wliicli  mh'  (•.iniiot  icniiiiialc  suddenly  at  will. 
It  is  hardlv  necessary  to  observe,  that  witli  the  nature  of  sleep  and 
soinnambulisin  as  ))svchological  jiluenonu'iia,  w  c  have  at  ]>resent  noth- 
ing to  <lo ;  our  consideration  is  now  strictly  limited  to   the   inquiry, 

1  See  below.  I.iit.  wiii.  ]i.  2:V).  —  rt>. 

28 


218  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVIl 

Whether  the  mind,  in  as  far  as  we  can  make  it  matter  of  observa- 
tion, is  always  in  a  state  of  conscious  activity, 
ireatment   of  the       rpj^^  general  problem  in  rei^ard  to  the  ceaseless 

<lUfsfion  by  philosoph-  ..  r-     i  •■    i    ^         ^ 

j.rs  activity  of  the  mind  has  been  one  agitated  from 

very  ancient  times,  but  it  has  also  been  one  on 

which  ])hilosophers  have  j)ronounced  less  on  grounds  of  experience 

than  of  tlieoiy.     Plato  and  the  Platonists  were 

Plato  and  Platonists.  .  .... 

unanimous  in   maintaining  the  continual  energy 
of  intellect.     The  opinion  of  Aristotle  appears  doubtful,  and  pas- 
sages may  be  quoted  from  his  works  in  favor  of 
ribo     an      e   r-       either  alternative.     The  Aristotelians,  in  general, 

istoteliang.  '        ^  ' 

Avere  opposed,  but  a  considerable  number  were 
favorable,  to  the  Platonic  doctrine.     This  doctrine  was  adopted  by 

Cicero  and  St.  Augustin.     "  Nunquam  animus," 

Cicero  and  St.  Au-  ^t      />  tc  -^    i- 

says  the  lormer,  "  couitatione  et  motii  vacuus  esse 

gustm.  •'  '  ° 

potest."^  "Ad  quid  menti,"  says  the  latter, 
"  priBceptura  est,  ut  se  ipsam  cognoscat,  nisi  ut  semper  vivat,  et  sem- 
per sit  in  actu."-     The  question,  however,   obtained  its  principal 

imi  )oitance  in  the  philosoi)hy  of  Descartes.    That 

Descartes.  i  i     •/ 

philosopher  made  the  essence,  the  very  existence, 
of  the  soul  to  consist  in  actual  thouglit,^  under  which  he  included 
even  the  desires  and  feelings ;  and  thought  he  defined  all  of  which 
we  are  conscious.''  The  assertion,  therefore,  of  Descartes,  that  the 
mind  always  thinks,  is,  in  his  employment  of  language,  tantamount 
to  the  assertion  that  the  mind  is  always  conscious. 

That  the  mind  is  always  conscious,  though  a  fundamental  position 
of  the  Cartesian  doctrine,  was  rather  assumed  than  proved  by  an 
appeal  to  fact  and  exj^erience.     All  is  theoretical  in  Descartes;  all 
is  theoretical  in  his  disciples.     Even  Malebranche  assumes  our  con- 
sciousness in  sleep,   and   explains  our  oblivion 

Malebranche.  .  *    . 

only  by  a  mechanical  hypothesis.^  It  was,  there- 
fore, easy  for  Locke  to  deny  the  truth  of  the  Cartesian  opinion,  and 

to  give  a  strong  semblance  of  probability  to  his 

oAvn  doctrine  by  its  apparent  conformity  with 

the  phsenomena.     Omitting  a  good  deal  of  what  is  either  irrelevant 

1  Br  Divinationf,  ii.  6-2 :  '•  Katuram  earn  ut  se  ipi^ain  cogitet,  et  secundum  naturam 
dico,  qua  nunquam  animus  iiisisteus  a^ita-  suam  vivat."  Uut  in  the  Df  Anima  et  rju-^ 
tione,  fit  motu  esRe  vacuus  potest."'  —  Ed.  Origine,  lib.  iv.  c.  vi.  §  7,  t.  x.  p.  391,  (edit. 

2  Eugenio.s,  'VuxoAoyia,  p.  2!). — [Book  iii.  lien.)  occurs  the  following  explicit  state- 
of  his  ^Totxf'ia  t^s  MfTapvffiKTJs,  (edit.  meat:  "  Sicut  motus  non  cessat  in  cordf-. 
1805).  The  reference  in  Eugenios  is  to  De  unde  se  pulsus  diffundit  usque<iuaque  vena- 
Trhtitate,  I.  x.  c  v.,  where  a  passage  occurs,  rum.  ita  non  quiescimua  aliquid  cogitando 
resembling  in  words  the  one  (juoted  in  the  versare."  —  Ed.] 

text,  but  hardly  supporting  the  doctrine  in  3  Pr!;i<:///ia,  part  i.  ^  53.  —  Ed. 

<luestion.     It  is  as  follows:  ••  Ut  quid  er-o  ei  4  Prindpia,  part  i.  §  9.  —Ed. 

pneceptum  est,  ut  se  ipsam  cognoscat?    Credo  5  Recherche  Je  la  Vdrii,',  lib.  iii.  c.  2.  —  Ed. 


Lv.cr.  XVII.  METAPHYSICS.  219 

to  the  general  question,  oi*  what  is  now  admitted  to  be  false,  as 
founded  on  his  erroneous  doctrine  of  personal  identity,  the  follow- 
ing is  the  sum  of  Locke's  argument  upon  the  point.     "  It  is  an 

opinion,"  he  says,^  "that  the  soul  always  thinks, 
Locke's  argument       ^^^^^  ^j^.^^  j^  ^^^  ^^^  actual  perception  of  ideas  in 

for  the  negative.  '     .      '     . 

itself  constantly,  as  long  as  it  exists ;  and  that 
actual  thinking  is  as  inseparable  from  the  soul,  as  actual  extension 
is  from  the  body;  which  if  true,  to  inquire  after  the  beginning  of  a 
man's  ideas,  is  the  sanu'  as  to  inquire  after  the  beginning  of  his  soul. 
For  ])y  this  account,  soul  and  its  ideas,  as  body  and  its  extension, 
will  begin  to  exist  both  at  the  same  time. 

"  But  whether  the  soul  be  supposed  to  exist  antecedent  to,  or 
coeval  with,  or  some  time  after,  the  first  rudiments,  or  organization, 
or  the  beginnings  of  life  in  the  body,  I  leave  to  be  disputed  by  those 
who  have  better  thought  of  that  matter.  I  confess  myself  to  have 
one  of  those  dull  souls  that  doth  not  perceive  itself  always  to  con- 
template ideas ;  nor  can  conceive  it  any  more  necessary  for  the  soul 
always  to  think  than  for  the  body  always  to  move :  the  i)erception 
of  ideas  being  (as  I  conceive)  to  the  soul,  what  motion  is  to  the 
body ;  not  its  essence,  but  one  of  its  operations.  And,  therefore, 
though  thinking  be  supjtosed  ever  so  much  the  proper  action  of  the 
soul,  yet  it  is  not  necessaiy  to  suppose  that  it  should  be  always  think- 
ing, always  in  action.  That  perhaps  is  the  privilege  of  the  infinite 
Author  and  Preserver  of  things,  who  never  slumbers  nor  sleeps  ;  but 
is  not  competent  to  any  finite  being,  at  least  not  to  the  soul  of  man. 
We  know  certainly  by  experience  that  we  sometimes  think,  and 
thence  draw  this  infallible  consequence,  that  there  is  something  in 
us  that  has  a  power  to  think  :  but  whether  that  substance  perpetu- 
ally thinks  or  no,  we  can  be  n<>  further  assured  th:m  experience 
informs  us.  For  to  say  that  actual  thinking  is  essential  to  the  soul, 
and  inseparable  from  it,  is  to  beg  what  is  in  question,  and  not  to 
])rovc  it  by  reason  ;  which  is  necessary  to  be  done  if  it  be  not  a 
self-evident  proposition.  But  whether  this,  'that  tlu'  soul  always 
thinks,'  be  a  self-evident  )>roposition,  that  everybody  assents  to  at 
first  hearing,  I  aj>)K':il  to  mimkind.  It  is  doubted  whetlier  I  thought 
all  last  night  or  no;  the  (|uesti(>n  being  about  a  matter  of  fact,  it  is 
begging  it  to  bring  :is  ;i  proof  for  it  an  hypothesis  which  is  the  very 
thing  in  dispute;  by  w  Iiicli  way  one  may  prove  anything;  and  it 
is  but  sujiposing  that  all  watches,  whilst  the  b:d.iiu-e  beats,  tliink  ; 
and  it  is  sufiiciently  proved,  Mud  past  doubt,  that  my  watch  tho\ight 
all   last  night.     But   he   th:it   would   not   deceive  himself,  ought  to 

I   EfMtij.  book  ii.  rliiip.  i  .  »^  !>.  li».  14  •!  <»'/. 


220  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVIi 

build  his  liyi>othesis  on  matter  of  fact,  and  make  it  ont  by  sensible 
experience,  and  not  presume  on  matter  of  fact,  because  of  his 
hypothesis  ;  that  is,  because  he  supposes  it  to  be  so ;  which  way  of 
proving  amounts  to  this,  that  I  must  necessarily  think  all  last  night 
because  another  supposes  I  always  think,  though  I  myself  cannot 
perceive  that  I  always  do  so."  ...."'  It  AviU  perhaps  be  said 
that  'the  soul  thinks  even  in  the  soundest  sleep,  but  the  memory 
retains  it  not.'  That  the  soul  in  a  sleei)ing  man  should  be  this 
moment  busy  a-thinking,  and  the  next  moment  in  a  waking  man 
not  remember  nor  be  able  to  recollect  one  jot  of  all  those  thouofhts, 
is  very  hard  to  be  conceived,  and  would  need  some  better  proof 
than  bare  assertion  to  make  it  be  believed.  For  who  can,  without 
any  more  ado  but  being  barely  told  so,  imagine  that  the  greatest 
])art  of  men  do,  during  all  their  lives  for  several  hours  every  day, 
think  of  something  which,  if  they  were  asked  even  in  the  middle  of 
these  thoughts,  they  could  remember  nothing  at  all  of?  Most  men,> 
I  think,  pass  a  great  part  of  their  sleep  without  dreaming.  I  once 
knew  a  man  that  was  bred  a  scholar  and  had  no  bad  memory,  who 
told  me  he  had  never  dreamed  in  his  life  till  he  had  that  fever  he 
was  then  newly  recovered  of,  which  was  about  the  five  or  six  and 
twentieth  year  of  his  age.  I  suj>pose  the  Avorld  affords  more  such 
instances ;  at  least  every  one's  acquaintance  will  furnish  him  with 
examples  enough  of  such  as  pass  most  of  their  nights  without 
dreaming."  ....  And  again,  "If  they  say  that  a  man  is  always 
conscious  to  himself  of  thinking;  I  ask  how  they  know  it  ?  'Con- 
sciousness is  the  perception  of  what  passes  in  a  man's  own  mind. 
Can  another  man  perceive  that  I  am  conscious  of  anything,  when  I 
perceive  it  not  myself?'  No  man's  knowledge  here  can  go  beyond 
his  experience.  Wake  a  man  out  of  a  sound  sleep,  and  ask  him 
what  he  was  that  moment  thinking  on.  If  he  himself  be  conscious 
of  nothing  he  then  thought  on,  he  must  be  a  notable  di^dner  of 
thoughts  that  can  assure  him  that  he  was  thinking:  may  he  not 
with  more  reason  assure  him  he  was  not  asleep  ?  This  is  something 
beyond  jihilosophy ;  and  it  cannot  be  less  than  revelation  that  dis- 
covers to  another  thoughts  in  my  mind  Avhen  I  can  find  none  there 
myself;  and  they  must  nee<ls  have  a  penetrating  sight  who  can 
certainly  see  what  I  think  when  I  cannot  pei-ceive  it  myself,  and 
when  I  declare  that  I  do  not.  This  some  may  think  to  be  a  step 
bevond  the  Rosicrucians,  it  beina  easier  to  make  one's  fielf  invisible 
to  others,  than  to  make  another's  thoughts  visible  to  one  which  are 
not  visible  to  himself  But  it  is  but  defining  the  soul  to  be  '  a 
substance  that  always  thinks,'  and  the  business  is  done.  If  such 
definition  be  of  any  authority,  I  know  not  Avhat  it  can  serve  for,  but 


1 


Lkct.  xvii.  metaphysics.  221 

to  Trtake  many  men  suspect  that  they  liave  no  souls  at  all,  since  they 
find  a  good  i)art  of  their  lives  ])ass  away  without  thinking.  For  no 
definitions  that  I  know,  no  suppositions  of  any  sect,  are  of  force 
<?nough  to  destroy  constant  experience ;  and  perhaps  it  is  the  affec- 
tation of  knowing  beyond  what  we  perceive  that  makes  so  much 
useless  dispute  and  noise  in  the  world." 

This  decision  of  Locke  was  rejected  by  Leibnitz  in  the  Netv  Es- 
says on  the  Human  Understanding,^  the  great 

Locke's     view     op-  i-  i-ii  if>  i-- 

,  ^    ,  .,  work  ni  which  he  canvassed  from  bcijinnino:  to 

posed  by  Leibnitz.  ^  . 

end  the  Essay,  under  the  same  title,  of  the  Eng- 
lish philosopher.  He  observes,  in  reply  to  the  supposition  that 
continual  consciousness  is  an  attribute  of  Ilim  "  who  neither  slum- 
bereth  nor  sleepeth,"  'that  this  affords  no  inference  that  in  sleep 
we  are  wholly  without  perception.'  To  the  remark,  "that  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  conceive,  that  a  being  can  think  and  not  be  conscious  of 
thought,"  he  replies,  'that  in  this  lies  the  whole  knot  and  difficulty 
of  the  matter.  But  this  is  not  insoluble.'  "We  must  observe,"  he 
says,  "that  we  think  of  a  multitude  of  things  at  once,  but  take  heed 
only  of  those  thoughts  that  are  the  more  prominent.  Nor  could  it 
be  otherwise.  For  were  we  to  take  heed  of  everything,  it  would  be 
necessary  to  attend  to  an  infinity  of  matters  at  the  same  moment, 
all  of  which  make  an  effectual  impression  on  the  senses.  Nay,  I 
assert  that  there  remains  always  something  of  all  our  past  thoughts, 
—  that  none  is  ever  entirely  ettaced.  Now,  when  we  sleep  without 
dreaming,  and  when  stunned  by  a  blow  or  other  accident,  there  are 
fonned  in  us  an  affinity  of  small  confused  perce])tions."  And  again 
he  remarks:  "That  e\en  wlu'n  we  sleep  without  dreaming,  there  is 
always  sonic  feeble  perception.  Tlic  act  of  awakening,  indeed, 
shows  this:  and  the  more  easily  Ave  are  roused,  the  clearer  is  the 
])('rcej)tion  we  have  of  what  passes  without,  although  this  percep- 
tion is  not  always  strong  enough  to  cause  us  to  awake." 

Now,  in  all  this  it  will  be  observed,  that  Leibnitz  does  not  pre- 
cisely answer  the  question  we  have  mooted.  He  maintains  that 
the  mind  is  never  without  perception.s,  but,  as  he  holds  that  percep- 
tions e.vist  without  consciousness,  he  cannot,  though  lie  opposes 
Locke,  be  considered  as  .itllnning  that  the  mind  is  iicAcr  without 
consciousness  during  sleep,  —  in  short,  does  always  dream.  The 
doctrine  of  Wolf  on  this  jioint  is  the  same  with  that  of  his  master,- 
.„  ,,  though   the  N^imrtaiix  J^Jssais  of  Leibnitz  were 

Wolf.  ^ 

not  ))ublLshed  till  long  afler  the  death  of  Wolf 
But  if  Leibnitz  cannot  be  adduced  as  categorically  asserting  that 

1  Lib.  ii.  ch.  1.  — Ed.  2  Psyckologia  Rationaiis,  i  59. —  Ed. 


222  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVH  j 

there  is  no  sleep  without  its  dream,  this  cannot  be  said  of  Kant. 
Kant  "^'^''^^  great  thinker  distinctly  maintains  that  we 

always  di-eam  when  asleep ;  that  to  cease  to  dream 
would  be  to  cease  to  live ;  and  that  those  who  fancy  that  the^ 
have  not  dreamt  have  only  forgotten  their  dream.'  This  is  all 
that  the  manual  of  Anthropology,  published  by  himself,  contains 
upon  the  question ;  but  in  a  manuscript  in  my  possession,  which 
bears  to  be  a  work  of  Kant,  but  is  probably  only  a  compilation  from 
notes  taken  at  his  lectures  on  Anthrojjology,  it  is  further  stated 
that  we  can  dream  more  in  a  minute  than  we  can  act  during  a.  day, 
and  that  the  great  rapidity  of  the  train  of  thought  in  sleep,  Is  one  i 

of  the  principal  causes  why  we  do  not  always  recollect  what  we  ' 

dream.-  He  elsewhere  also  observes  that  the  cessation  of  a  force  to 
act,  is  tantamount  to  its  cessation  to  be. 

Though  the  determination  of  this  question  is  one  that  seems  not 

extremely  difficult,  we  find  it  dealt  with  by  phi- 

The  question  dealt       Josophcrs,  On  the  ouc'side  and  the  other,  rather 

with  by  philosopuers         i        i  i        •        i  i 

rather  by  hypothesis  "^X  hypothesis  than  by  experiment ;  at  least,  we 
than  by  experiment.         have,  witli  one  partial   exception,  which  I  am 

soon  to  quote  to  you,  no  observations  sufficiently 
accurate  and  detailed  to  warrant  us  in  establishing  more  than  a  verv 
doubtful  conclusion.     I  have  myself  at  different  times  turned  ray 

attention  to  the  pomt,  and,  as  far  as  my  observa- 

Conclusion  from  ex-  i-  j.i  ^    •    i       ,         t  ,  , 

periments  made  bv  ^'^"'  ^°'  ^^^>'  Certainly  tend  to  provc  that,  dur- 
the  Author.  i^g  slccp,  the  mind  is  never  either  inactive  or 

wholly  unconscious  of  its  acti^■ity.  As  to  the 
objection  of  Locke  and  others,  that,  as  we  have  often  no  recollec- 

tion    of   dreaming,    we    have,    therefore,   never 

I^ocke's  assumption,  ,  .      .  ^  . 

that  consciousness  and  dreamt,  it  IS  sufhcicnt  to  say  that  the  assump- 
the  recollection  of  tiou  in  this  argument  —  that  consciousness,  and 
consciousness  are  con-       the  rccollection  of  consciousness,  are  converti- 

vertible,  disproved  by  11  •      j-  j    •        >^i  ,  ,        .   ^ 

the  phenomena  of  ble  —  IS  disproved  m  the  most  emphatic  man- 
somnambuiism.  ^cr  by  experience.     You  have  all  heard  of  the 

phaenomenon  of  somnambulism.  In  this  re- 
markable state,  the  various  mental  faculties  are  usually  in  a  hio-her 
degree  of  power  than  in  the  natural.  The  patient  has  recollections 
of  what  he  has  wholly  forgotten.  He  speaks  languages  of  which, 
when  awake,  he  remembers  not  a  word.  If  he  use  a  vulgar  dialect 
when  out  of  this  state,  in  it  he  employs  only  a  correct  and  elegant 
phraseology.     The  imagination,  the  s€?hse  of  propriety,  and  the  fac- 

1  ^nrtro/joiog-ie,  §§  30,  36.  — Ed.  thropologie,  edited   by  Starke  in  1831,  from 

2  The  substance  of  this  passa;?e  is  published      Kant's  Lectures.    See  p.  164.  —  Ed. 
Sn  the  Menschenkunde  oder   Philosophische  An- 


Lect.  XVII.  METAPHYSICS.  223 

ulty  of  reasoning,  are  all  in  general  exalted.  ^  The  bodily  powers 
are  in  liigh  activity,  and  under  the  complete  control  of  the  will; 
and,  it  is  well  known,  2)ersons  in  this  state  have  frequently  performed 
feats,  of  which,  when  out  of  it,  they  would  not  even  have  imagined  the 
possibility.  And  what  is  even  more  remarkable,  the  difference  of 
the  faculties  in  the  two  states,  seems  not  confined  merely  to  a  differ- 
ence in  degree.  For  it  happens,  for  example,  that  a  person  who  has 
no  ear  for  music  when  awake,  shall,  in  his  somnambulic  crisis,  sing 
with  the  utmost  correctness  and  Avith  full  enjoyment  of  his  perform- 
ance. Under  this  affection  persons  sometimes  live  half  their  life- 
time, alternating  between  the  normal  and  abnormal  states,  and  per- 
forming the  ordinary  functions  of  life  indifferently  in  both,  with 
this  distinction,  that  if  the  patient  be  dull  and  doltish  when  he 
is  said  to  be  aAvake,  he  is  comparatively  alert  and  intelligent  when 
nominally  asleep.  I  am  in  possession  of  three  works,  written  dur- 
ing the  crisis  by  three  different  somnambulists.  -  Now  it  is  evident 
that  consciousness,  and  an  exalted  consciousness,  must  be  allowed  in 
somnambulism.     This  cannot  possibly  be  denied,  —  but  mark  what 

follows.    It  is  the  peculiarity  of  somnambulisna  — 
Consciousness  with-       [^  jg  the  differential  quality  by  Avhich  that  state 

out  memory,  the  char-         •  j.       t   ^-  -iix-  ^i  ^l^        i>    t 

.  .     '  IS  contradistmeruished  irom  the  state  oi  dream- 

acteristic  oi   somnam-  _  ^ 

i,„iisin.  iiig  —  tbat  we  have    no   recollection,  when  we 

awake,  of  what  has  occurred  during  its  continu- 
ance. Consciousness  is  thus  cut  in  two ;  memory  does  not  connect 
the  train  of  consciousness  in  the  one  state  with  the  train  of  consci- 
ousness in  the  other.  When  the  ])atient  again  relapses  into  the 
state  of  somnambulism,  he  again  remembers  all  that  had  occurred 
during  every  former  alternative  of  that  state ;  but  he  not  only 
remembers  this,  he  recalls  also  the  events  of  his  normal  existence; 
so  that,  whereas  the  patient  in  his  somnnndiidic  crisis,  has  a  memory 
of  his  whole  life,  in  his  waking  intervals  he  has  a  memory  only  of 
half  his  life. 

At  the   time   of   Locke,  the   pluenomena  of  somnambulism   had 
been   very   little    studied ;  nay,  so  great   is   the 

Drcamiii;;    tiossible  ■_  .1     *.  -i      •      ^i  •  ^         •  j 

"  '  Ignorance  tiiat  prevails  m  this  country  in  reirard 

without  iiieiiiory.  ^     ,  ^  .  . 

to  its  nature  even  now,  thai  you  will  find  this, 
its  distinctive  character,  wlidlly  unnotice<l  in  the  best  works  ujton 
the  subject.'  But  this  distinction,  you  observe,  is  incompi'tent 
always  to  discriminate  the  states  of  dreaming  and  somnambulism. 

1  For  come  iiitcrcsitiiif;  illustrations  of  this  3  This  deficiency  ha."*  been  ably  supplied  by 
rtate,  sec  Abercrombio  On  the  Intel.  Pou-rrf,  Dr.  Carpenter.  See  his  Principlrs  of  Human 
pt.  ii.  S  iv.  92.  —  Ki>.                                                     Physiology,  ^  827.—  F.D. 

2  Of  these  works  we  have  failed  to  discover 
•ay  trace.  —  Ed. 


•224  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVIL 

II  may  be  true  that  if  we  recollect  our  visions  during  sleep,  this 
recollection  excludes  somnambulism,  but  the  want  of  memory  by 
no  nieans  proves  that  the  visions  we  are  known  by  others  to  have 
li.id,  were  not  common  dreams.  The  pliaiuomena,  indeed,  do  not 
always  enable  us  to  discriminate  the  two  states.  Somnambulism 
may  exist  in  many  different  degrees ;  the  sleep-walking  from  which 
it  takes  its  name  is  only  one  of  its  higher  phEenomena,  and  one  com- 
paratively rare.  In  general,  the  subject  of  this  affection  does  not 
leave  his  bed,  and  it  is  then  frequently  impossible  to  say  whether 
the  manifestations  exhibited,  are  the  phaenomena  of  somnambulism 
or  of  dreaming.  Talking  during  sleep,  for  example,  may  be  a  symp- 
tom of  either,  and  it  is  often  only  from  our  general  knowledge  of 
the  habits  and  jiredispositions  of  the  sleeper,  that  we  are  warranted 
in  referring  this  effect  to  the  one  and  not  to  the  other  class  of  phte- 
nomcna.  We  have,  however,  abundant  evidence  to  prove  that  for- 
a'etfulness  is  not  a  decisive  criterion  of  somnambulism.  Persons 
whom  there  is  no  reason  to  suspect  of  this  affection,  often  manifest 
during  sleep  ihe  strongest  indications  of  dreaming,  and  yet,  when 
they  awaken  in  the  morning,  retain  no  memory  of  what  tliey  may 
have  done  or  ssiid  during  the  night.  Locke's  ai-gument,  that  be- 
cause we  do  not  always  remember  our  consciousness  during  sleep, 
we  have  not,  therefore,  been  always  conscious,  is  thus,  on  the  ground 
of  fact  and  analogy,  disproved. 

ilut  tliis  is  not  all.  We  can  not  only  show  that  the  fact  of  the 
mind  remaining  conscious  during  sleep  is  pos- 

I  hat  the  mind  re-       sible,  is  even  probable,  we  can  also  show,  by  an 

mains   conscious   dur-  ^-       ^    a.  •  ^i      ^    ^i  •  a       ii 

,  . .    ,       articulate  experience,  that  this  actually  occurs. 

jiig   sleep   established  _    ^  _  •' 

bv  experience.  The  following  observations  are  the  result  of  my 

personal   experience,    and    similar    experiments 
every  one  of  you  is  competent  to  institute  for  himself 

In  the  first  place,  when  we  compose  ourselves  to  rest,  we  do  not 

always  fall  at  once  asleep,  but  remain  for  a  time 

Results  of  the  Au-       j^  ^  ^^^^^  ^^  incipient  slumber,  —  in  a  state  in- 

thor's personal  experi-  .  ■  -»  • 

gmjg  termediate  between  sleep  and  waking.     Now,  if 

we  are  gently  roused  from  this  transition-state, 
we  find  ourselves  conscious  of  being  in  the  commencement  of  a 
dream  ;  we  find  ourselves  occupied  with  a  train  of  thought,  and  this 
train  we  are  still  able  to  follow  out  to  a  point  when  it  connects 
itself  with  certain  actual  perceptions.  We  can  still  trace  iraagina 
tion  to  sense,  and  show  how,  departing  from  the  last  sensible  im- 
]»ressions  of  real  objects,  the  fancy  ju-oceeds  in  its  work  of  distort- 
ing, falsifying,  and  perplexing  these,  in  order  to  construct  out  of 
their  ruins  its  own  grotesque  edifices. 


LeOT.  XVII.  METAPHYSI C:&.:  225 

In  the  second  place,  I  liave  always  observed,  that  when  suddenly 
awakened  during  sleep  (and  to  ascertain  the  fact  I  have  caused 
myself  to  be  roused  at  difterent  seasons  of  the  night),  I  have  al- 
ways been  able  to  observe  that  I  was  in  the  middle  of  a  dream. 
The  recollection  of  this  dream  was  not  always  equally  vivid.  On 
some  occasions,  I  was  able  to  trace  it  back  until  the  train  was  grad^ 
ually  lost  at  a  remote  distance  ;  on  others,  I  was  hardly  aware  of 
more  than  one  or  two  of  the  latter  links  of  the  chain  ;  and,  some- 
'times,  was  scarcely  certain  of  more  than  the  fact,  that  I  was  not 
awakened  from  an  unconscious  state.  Why  we  should  not  always 
be  able  to  recollect  our  dreams,  it  is  not  difficult  to  explain.  In  our 
waking  and  our  sleeping  states,  we  are  placed  in  two  worlds  of 
thought,  not  only  different  l)ut  contrasted,  and  contrasted  both  in 
the  character  and  in  the  intensity  of  their  representations.  When 
T^natqhed  suddenly  from  the  twilight  of  our  sleeping  imaginations, 
and  placed  in  the  meridian  lustre  of  our  waking  perceptions,  the 
necessary  effect  of  the  transition  is  at  once  to  eclipse  or  obliterate 
the  traces  of  our  dreams.  The  act  itself  also  of  rousintr  us  from 
.sleep,  by  abruptly  interrupting  the  current  of  our  thoughts,  throws 
us  into  confusion,  disqualifies  us  for  a  time  from  recollection,  and 
before  we  have  recovered  from  our  consternation,  what  we  could 
at  first  have  easily  discerned  is  fled  or  flying. 

A  sudden  and  violent  is,  however,  in  one  respect,  more  favorable 
than  a  gradual  and  spontaneous  wakening  to  the  observation  of  the 
phoenomena  of  sleep.  For  in  the  former  case,  the  images  presented 
are  fresh  and  ])roniinent;  while  in  the  latter,  before  our  attention  is 
applied,  the  objects  of  observation  have  withdrawn  darkling  into 
the  background  of  the  soul.  We  may,  therefore,  I  think,  assert,  in 
general,  that  wliether  we  recollect  our  dreams  or  not,  we  always 
dream.  Something  similar,  indee<l,  to  the  rapid  oblivion  of  our 
slee])ing  consciousness,  hajipens  to  us  occasionally  even  when 
awake.  When  our  mind  is  not  intently  occupied  with  any  subject, 
or  more  frequently  when  fatigued,  a  thought  suggests  itself.  We 
turn  it  lazjlv  over  and  fix  our  eves  in  vacancy;  intermitted  bv  the 
question  Mhat  we  are  thinking  of,  we  attempt  to  answer,  but  the 
thouglit  is  gone;  we  cannot  recall  it,  and  say  that  we  are  thinking 
of  nothing. 

The  observations  I  have  hitherto  made  tend  only  to  establish  the 
fict,  that  the  mind  is  never  wholly  inactive,  and 

Cieneral  conclusions         ^i     x.  in  •  j.-    -^ 

that    we   are    never   wholly    unconscious  of    its 

from  forejjoing;.  _    _  '' 

activity.  Of  the  degree  and  character  of  that 
activity,  I  at  present  say  nothing;  this  may  form  the  subject  of  our 
future  consideration.     But  in   conHrmation  of  the  oj)inion  I  have 

■29 


226  METAPHYSICS.  Lk^t.  XVIl 

HOW  hazarded,  and  in  proof  of  something  more  even  than  I  Ikivo 
ventured  to  maintain,  I  have  great  pleasure  in  quoting  to  you  the 
pubstance  of  a  remarkable  essay  on  sleep  by  one  of  the  most  dis 
tinguished  of  the  philosophers  of  France,  —  liv 

Jouffroy    quoted  in         .  -,       ■•      .  e- 

(.,■(■   ♦,.„       ing  when  the  extract  was  made,  but  now  untor- 

confinnation    of    the  o  ' 

Author's  view,  and  in  tunately  lost  to  the  scieuce  of  mind,  which  he 
proofof  sundry  other  cultivated  with  most  distinguished  success;  — 
conclusions.  j    ^,^^^^,   ^^   ^^     Jouffroy,  who,    along   with    U. 

Royer  Collard,  was  at  the  head  of  the  pure  school  of  Scottish 
Philosophy  in  France.  ^ 

"  I  have  never  well  understood  those  who  admit  that  in  sleep  the 

mind    is   dormant.     When   we    dream,  we    are 

The  mind  frequent-       ^ssuredly  asleep,  and  assuredly  also  our  mind  i^ 

ly  awake    when     the  *'  ,  ......  ,  „ 

.senses  asleep  "^t    asleep,  because  It  thmks  ;    it  is,  theretorc, 

manifest,  that  the  mind  frequently  wakes  when 
the  senses  are  in  slumber.  But  this  does  not  prove  that  it  never 
sleeps  along  with  them.  To  sleep  is  for  the  mind  not  to  dream ; 
and  it  is  impossible  to  establish  the  foct,  that  there  are  in  sleep 
moments  in  which  the  mind  does  not  dream.  To  have  no  recollec- 
tion of  our  dreams,  does  not  prove  that  we  have  not  dreamt ;  for  it 
can  be  often  proved  that  we  have  dreamt,  although  the  dream  has 
left  no  trace  on  our  memory. 

"■The  fact,  then,  that  the  mind  sometimes  wakes  while  the  senses 

are  asleep,  is  thus  established ;  whereas  the  fact. 

Probable  that  the       ^^^^^    -^   sometimes   sleei^s  along   with   them   is 

mind  is  always  awake.  .  .  />  •         i  • 

not;  the  probability,  therefore,  is,  that  it  wakes 
alvvMys,  It  would  require  contradictory  facts  to  destroy  the  force 
of  this  induction,  which,  on  the  contrary,  every  foct  seems  to  confirm. 
I  shall  proceed  to  analyze  some  of  these  which  appear  to  me  curious 
and  striking.  They  manifestly  imply  this  conclusion,  that  the 
mind,  during  sleep,  is  not  in  a  peculiar  state,  but  that  its  activity 
is  carried  on  precisely  as  when  awake. 

"  When  an  inhabitant  of  the  province  comes  to  Paris,  his  sleep 
is  at  first  disturbed,  and  continually  broken,  by 

Induction  of  facts       ^j^^    noisc    of  the    Carriages   passing   under   his 

In  supijort  of  tliis  con-  .     ,  __  ,  , 

,    .  Avmdow.      lie    soon,    however,    becomes    accus- 

elusion.  '  ' 

tomed  to  the  turmoil,  and  ends  by  sleeping  at 
Paris  as  he  slept  in  his  village. 

"The  noise,  however,  remains  the  same,  and  makes  an  equal 
impression  on  his  senses;  how  comes  it  that  this  noise  at  first 
hinders,  and  then,  at  length,  does  not  hinder  him  from  sleeping? 

"The    state    of  waking   presents    analogous    facts.      Every   one 

I  Melanges,  p.  318,  [p.  290,  second  edition. —  Eo.l 


Lect.  XVII.  METAPHYSICS.  227 

knows  that  it  is  difficult  to  fix  our  .attention  on  a  book,  when  sur- 
rounded by  pei-sons  engaged  in  conversation  ;  at  length,  however, 
we  acquire  this  faculty.  A  man  unaccustomed  to  the  tunmlt  of 
the  streets  of  Paris  is  unable  to  think  consecutively  while  walking 
througli  them ;  a  Parisian  finds  no  difficulty.  He  meditates  as  tran- 
(juilly  in  the  midst  of  the  crowd  and  bustle  of  men  and  carriages, 
as  he  could  in  the  centre  of  the  forest.  The  analogy  between  these 
facts  taken  from  the  state  of  waking,  and  the  fact  wliich  I  men 
tioned  at  the  commencement,  taken  from  the  state  of  sleep,  is  so 
close,  that  the  e.\i)lanation  of  the  former  should  throw  some  light 
upon  the  latter.     We  shall  attempt  this  exjilaiiation. 

"Attention  is  the  voluntary  application  of  the  mind  to  an  object. 

It  is  established,  by  experience,  that  we  cannot 

Analysis  and  expia-       gjye   our  attention  to  two  different  objects   at 

nation  of  these  piur-       ^^^  ^^^^^  ^j^^_    Distraction  (etre  distrait)  is  the 

nomeiia.        Attention  .  ^ 

and  Distraction.  removal   of  our  attention  from   a  matter  with 

which  we  are  engaged,  and  our  bestowal  of  it 
on  another  which  crosses  lis.  In  distraction,  attention  is  only 
diverted  because  it  is  attracted  by  a  new  perception  or  idea,  solicit- 
ing it  more  strongly  than  that  with  which  it  is  occupied;  and  this 
diversion  diminishes  exactly  in  proportion  as  the  solicitation  is 
weaker  on  the  part  of  the  intrusive  idea.  All  experience  proves 
this.  Tlie  more  strongly  attention  is  ai^plied  to  a  subject,  the  less 
susceptible  is  it  of  distraction  ;  thus  it  is,  that  a  book  which  awakens 
a  lively  curiosity,  retains  the  attention  captive ;  a  person  occu])ied 
with  a  matter  affecting  his  life,  his  reputation,  or  his  fortune,  is  not 
e.'isily  distracted  ;  he  sees  nothing,  he  understands  notliing,  of  what 
}»asses  around  him ;  we  say  that  he  is  deeply  ])reoccupied.  In  like 
manner,  the  greater  our  curiosity,  or  the  more  curious  the  things 
that  are  s])oken  of  arouml  us,  the  less  able  are  Ave  to  rivet  our 
attention  on  the  book  we  read.  In  like  manner,  also,  if  we  nrr 
waiting  in  expectation  of  any  one,  the  slightest  noises  occasion 
distraction,  as  these  noises  may  be  the  signal  of  the  approach  we 
anticipate.  All  these  facts  tend  to  prove  that  distraction  results 
only  when  the  intrusive  idea  solicits  us  more  strongly  than  that 
with   which  we  are  occupied. 

"Hence  it  is  that  the  stranger  in  Paris  cannot  think  in  the  bustle 
of  the  streets.  The  impressions  whicli  assail  his  eyes  and  eai"s 
on  every  side  being  for  him  the  signs  of  things  new  or  little  known, 
when  they  reach  his  min<l,  interest  him  more  strongly  than  the 
matter  even  to  Avhich  he  wouhl  ajiply  liis  thoughts.  Each  of  tliese 
impressions  announces  a  cause  whicli  may  be  beautiful,  rare,  curi- 
ous, or  terrific ;  the  intellect  cannot  refrain   from  ttirning  out  to 


228  METAPHYSICS.  Lbct.  XVII 

verify  tlie  fact.  It  turns  out,  however,  no  longer  when  experience 
has  made  it  familiar  with  all  that  can  strike  the  senses  on  the  streets 
of  Paris ;  it  remains  within,  and  no  longer  allows  itself  to  be  de- 
ranged. 

"  The  other  admits  of  a  similar  explanation.  To  read  without 
distraction  in  the  midst  of  an  unknown  company,  would  be  impossi- 
ble. Curiosity  would  be  too  strong.  This  would  also  be  the  case 
if  the  subject  of  conversation  were  very  interesting.  But  in  a 
familiar  circle,  whose  ordinary  topics  of  conversation  are  well 
known,  the  ideas  of  the  book  make  an  easy  conquest  of  our 
thoughts. 

"The  Avill,  likewise,  is  of  some  avail  in  resisting  distraction. 
Not  that  it  is  able  to  retain  the  attention  when  disquieted  and 
curious;  but  it  can  recall,  and  not  indulge  it  in  protracted  absences, 
and,  by  constantly  remitting  it  to  the  object  of  its  volition,  the 
interest  of  this  object  becomes  at  last  predominant.  Rational  con- 
siderations, and  the  necessity  of  remaining  attentive,  likewise  exert 
an  influence ;  they  come  in  aid  of  the  idea,  and  lend  it,  so  to  speak, 
a  helping  hand  in  concenti'ating  on  it  the  attention. 

"But,  howsoever  it  may  be  with  all  these  petty  influences,  it 

remains   evident    that   distraction   and    non-dis- 

DistractionandNon-       traction  are  neither  of  them  matters  of  sense, 

distraction  matters  of         ■•  t       ^  r.  •        n-  t     •  i 

intciii'rence  "^^^  Dotli  matters  oi  intelligence.     It  is  not  the 

senses  which  become  accustomed  to  hear  the 
noises  of  the  street  and  the  sounds  of  conversation,  and  which  end 
in  beins  less  afft'cted  bv  them:  if  Ave  are  at  first  vehementlv  affected 
by  the  noises  of  the  street  or  drawing-room,  and  then  little  or  not 
at  all,  it  is  because  at  first  attention  occupies  itself  with  these 
impressions,  and  afterwards  neglects  them ;  when  it  neglects  them 
it  is  not  diverted  from  its  object,  and  distraction  does  not  take 
place ;  when,  on  the  contrary,  it  accords  them  notice,  it  abandons 
its  object,  and  is  then  distracted. 

"We  may  observe,  in  support  of  this  conclusion,  that  the  habit 
of  hearing  the  same  sounds  renders  us  sometimes  highly  sensible 
to  these,  as  occurs  in  savages  and  in  the  blind ;  sometimes,  again, 
almost  insensible  to  them,  as  exemplified  in  the  apathy  of  the  Pari- 
sian for  the  noise  of  carriages.  If  the  effect  were  physical,  —  if 
it  depended  on  the  body  and  not  on  the  mind,  there  would  be  a 
contradiction,  for  the  habit  of  hearing  the  same  sounds  either  blunts 
the  organ  or  sharpens  it ;  it  could  not  at  once  have  two,  and  two 
contrary  effects,  —  it  could  have  only  one.  The  fact  is,  it  neither 
blunts  nor  sharpens ;  the  organ  remains  the  same ;  the  same  sensa- 
tions are  determined ;  but  when  these  sensations  interest  the  mind. 


Lect.  XVn.  METAPHYSICS.  2'I\\ 

it  applies  itself  to  them,  and  becomes  accustomed  to  their  discrim- 
ination ;  when  they  do  not  interest  it,  it  becomes  accustomed  to 
neoflect,  and  does  not  discriminate  them.  This  is  the  whole  mvs- 
tery;  the  pha^nomenon  is  j)sych()lo<j;ical,  not  ])hysiological. 

"Let  us  now  turn  our  attention  to  the  state  of  sleep,  and  con- 
sider whether  analogy  does  not  demand  a  sinii- 

Appiication  of  the  j.,,.  explanation  of  the  fact  which  we  stated  at 
oregoiiig  ana  ysis  o       ^j^^  commencement.      What  takes  place    wlien 

the     pha.'nomena     oi  ,  _  _  ^ 

,ieej,.  a  noise   hinders   us  from   sleeping?     The  body 

fatigued  begins  to  slumber ;  then,  of  a  sudden, 
the  senses  are  stnack,  and  we  awake ;  then  fatigue  regains  the 
ascendant,  we  relapse  into  drowsiness,  which  is  soon  again  inter- 
rupted ;  and  so  on  for  a  certain  continuance.  When,  on  the  con- 
trary, we  are  accustomed  to  noise,  the  im])ressions  it  makes  no 
longer  disturb  our  first  sleep ;  the  drowsiness  is  prolonged,  and  we 
fall  asleep.  That  the  senses  are  more  toq^id  in  sleep  than  in  our 
waking  state,  is  not  a  matter  of  doubt.  But  Avhen  I  am  once 
asleep,  they  are  then  equally  torpi<l  on  the  first  night  of  my  arriAal 
in  Paris  as  on  the  hundredth.  The  noise  being  the  same,  they 
receive  the  same  impressions,  which  they  transmit  in  equal  vivacity 
to  the  mind.  Whence  comes  it,  then,  that  on  the  first  night  T  am 
awakened,  and  not  on  the  hundredth '?  The  ])hysical  focts  are 
identical ;  the  difterence  can  originate  only  in  the  mind,  as  in  the 
case  of  distrnction  and  of  non-distraction  in  the  waking  stat;-.  Let 
us  su])j)Ose  that  the  soul  lias  fallen  asleep  along  with  the  body;  on 
this  hypothesis,  tlie  slund)ei"  would  be  equally  deep,  in  both  eases, 
for  the  mind  and  for  the  senses,  and  we  should  be  ivnable  to  see 
why,  ill  the  one  case,  it  was  aroused  more  than  in  the  other.  It 
reinains,  therefore,  certain  that  it  does  not  sleep  like  the  bo<ly ;  an<l 
that,  in  the  one  case,  disquieted  by  unusual  im])ressions,  it  awakens 
the  senses  to  in((uirc  wliat  is  the  matter;  whilst  in  the  other,  kiiow- 
ing  by  experience  of  what  external  fact  these  impressions  arc  the 
sign,  it  remains  traiujuil,  ami  <Iocs  not  disturb  the  senses  to  obt:iin 
a  useless  explanation. 

"For  let  us  remark,  that  the  uiind  has  need  of  the  senses  t.» 
olttain  a  knowledge  of  external  things.  In  sleep,  the  senses  an 
some  of  them  closed,  as  the  eyes;  the  others  half  torjiid,  as  tout 'i 
and  hearing.  If  the  soul  be  disfpiieted  by  tlu'  impressifms  wlii*  n 
reach  it,  it  requires  the  senses  to  ascertain  the  cause,  and  to  relieve' 
its  iiKjuietude.  This  is  the  cause  why  we  find  ourselves  in  a  dis- 
quieted state,  when  aroused  by  an  extraordinary  noise;  and  this 
could  not  have  occuiTed  had  we  not  been  occupied  Avith  this  noise 
before   we  .awoke. 


230  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XVIL 

"This  is,  also,  the  cause  why  we  sometimes  feel,  during  sleep, 
the  efforts  we  make  to  awaken  our  senses,  when  an  unusual  noise 
or  any  painful  sensation  disturbs  our  rest.  If  we  are  in  a  profound 
sleep,  we  are  for  a  long  time  agitated  before  we  have  it  in  our 
power  to  awake,  —  we  say  to  ourselves,  we  must  awake  in  order  to 
get  out  of  pain;  but  the  sleep  of  the  senses  resists,  and  it  is  only 
by  little  and  little  that  we  are  able  to  rouse  them  from  torpidity, 
Soinetimes,  when  the  noise  ceases  before  the  issue  of  the  struggle, 
the  awakening  does  not  take  place,  and,  in  the  morning,  we  have 
a  confused  recollection  of  having  been  disturbed  during  our  sleep, 
—  a  recollection  which  becomes  distinct  onlv  when  we  leara  from 
others  that  such  and  such  an  occurrence  has  taken  place  Avhile  we 
were  asleep. 

"I  had  given  orders  some  time  ago,  that  a  parlor  adjoining  to  my 
bedroom  should  be  swept  before  I  was  called  in 

Illustrated  by  ti.e       ^j^^  morning.     For  the  first  two  days  the  noise 

personal  experience  of  -i  i  r.  t 

the  writer  awoKc  me ;  but,  thereafter,  1  was  not  aware  of 

it.  Whence  arose  the  difference  ?  The  noises 
are  the  same  and  at  the  same  hour,  I  am  in  the  same  degree  of 
slumber ;  the  same  sensations,  consequently,  take  place.  Whence 
comes  it  that  I  awoke,  and  do  no  longei"  awake?  For  this,  it 
appears  to  me,  there  is  but  one  explanation,  —  viz.,  that  my  mind 
which  wakes,  and  which  is  now  aware  of  the  cause  of  these  sensa- 
tions, is  no  longer  disquieted,  and  no  longer  rouses  my  senses.  It 
is  true  that  I  do  not  retain  the  recollection  of  this  reasoning;  but 
this  oblivion  is  not  more  extraordinary  than  that  of  so  many  others 
which  cross  our  mind  both  when  awake  and  Avhcn  asleep. 

"  I  add  a  single  observation.  The  noise  of  the  brush  on  the  carpet 
of  my  parlor  is  as  nothing  compared  with  that  of  the  heavy  wagons 
which  pass  under  my  windows  at  the  same  hour,  and  which  do  not 
trouble  my  repose  in  the  least.  I  was,  therefore,  awakened  by  a 
sensation  ntuch  feebler  than  a  crowd  of  others,  which  I  received  at 
the  same  time.  Can  that  hypothesis  afford  the  reason,  which  sup- 
poses that  the  awakening  is  a  necessary  event ;  that  the  sensations 
rouse  the  senses,  and  that  the  senses  rouse  the  mind  ?  It  is  evident 
that  my  mind  alone,  and  its  activity,  can  explain  Avhy  the  fiinter 
sensation  awoke  me  ;  as  these  alone  can  explain  why,  when  I  am 
reading  in  my  study,  the  small  noise  of  a  mouse  playing  in  a  corner 
can  distract  my  attention,  while  the  thundering  noise  of  a  passing 
wagon  does  not  affect  me  at  all. 

"  The  explanation  fully  accoinits  for  what  occurs  Avith  those  who 
sleep  in  attendance  on  the  sick.  All  noises  foreign  to  the  2>^tient 
have  no  effect  on  them  ;  but  let  the  patient  turn  him  on  the  bed,  let 


I.KCT.   XVII.  M  KTA  I'll  YSICS.  231 

him  uttor  ,i  ni-<»;in  or  sigli,  or  let  liis  breathing  become  j)ainful  ov 

interrupted,    forthwith    the    attendant    awakes, 
lixperiei.cc  of  those       j.^wever  littlo  inured  to  the  vocation,  or  inter- 

attenuaut  on  tlic  sick. 

ested    in   the   welfare   of  the  patient.     Whence 
comes  this  discrimination  between  the  noises  which  deserve  the  at- 
tention of  the  attendant,  and  those  which  do  not,  if,  whilst  the  senses 
are  aslee]>,  the  mind  does  not  remain  observant,  —  does  not  act  the 
sentinel,  does  not  consider  the  sensations  which  the  senses  convey, 
and  does  not  awaken  the  senses  as  it  finds  these  sensations  disquiet- 
ing or  not  ?     It  is  by  being  strongly  impressed,  previous  to  going 
to  sleej),  with  the   duty  of  attending  to  the  respiration,  motions, 
complaints  of  the  sufferer,  that  we  come  to  awaken   at  all  such 
noises,  and  at  no  others.     The  habitual  repetition  of  such  an  impres' 
sion  gives  tliis  faculty  to  })rofessional  sick-nurses  ;  a  lively  interest  in 
the  health  of  the  patient  gives  it  equally  to  the  members  of  his  family. 
"  It  is  in  ))recisely  the  same  manner  that  we  waken  at  the  appointed 
hour,  when  before  going  to  sleep  we  have  made 
Awaking  at  an  ap-       .^  ^^.^^^  resolution  of  SO  doing.     I  have  this  power 

pointed  hour.  .  .  •      •  n  t 

in  perfection,  but  I  notice  that  I  lose  it  if  I 
depend  on  any  one  calling  me.  In  this  latter  case,  my  mind  does 
not  take  the  trouble  of  measuring  the  time  or  of  listening  to  the  clock. 
r»ut  in  the  former,  it  is  necessary  that  it  do  so,  otherwise  the  phteno- 
nienon  is  iiie.xplicablc.  p]verv  one  has  made,  or  can  make,  this 
experiment ;  when  it  fails  it  will  be  found,  if  I  mistake  not,  either 
tiiat  we  have  not  been  sufficiently  preoccu{)ied  with  the  intention,  or 
were  over-fatigued  ;  for  when  tlie  senses  are  strongly  benumbed,  they 
convey  to  the  mind,  on  the  one  hand,  more  obtuse  sensations  of  the 
monitory  sounds,  and.  on  tlie  other,  they  resist  for  a  longer  time  the 
efforts  the  mind  makes  to  awaken  them,  when  these  sounds  have 
renc^hed  it. 

"After  a  night  passed  in  this  effort,  we  have,  in  general,  the  recol- 
lection, in  the  morning,  of  liaving  been  constantly  occupied  during 
sleep  with  this  thought.  The  miiul,  therefore,  watched,  and,  full  of 
its  resolution,  awaited  the  moment.  It  is  thus  that  when  we  go  to 
bed  mudi  intereste<l  with  any  subject,  we  remember,  on  Makeiiing, 
that  <lurin<x  slccii  we  h:i\  e  been  continuallv  haunted  l)v  it.  On  these 
occasions,  the  slumber  is  light,  for,  the  mind  being  nnlran(|uil,  its 
agitation  is  continually  tlisturbing  the  torjxtr  of  the  senses.  When 
the  mind  is  calm,  it  does  not  sleej)  more,  but  it  is  less  restless. 

"It  would  be  curious  to  ascertain,  Avhether  jtersons  of  a  feeble 
memory,  and  of  a  volatile  disposition,  are  not  less  capable  than 
others  of  awakening  at  an  .ippointed  hour;  for  these  two  circum- 
stances ouglil  to  produce  this  effect,  if  the  notion  I  have  formed  of 


232  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVII. 

the  ]»ha'iioinenon  be  correct.  A  volatile  disposition  is  unable  strongly 
to  preoccupy  itself  with  the  thought,  and  to  form  a  determined  reso- 
lution ;  "and,  on  the  other  hand,  it  is  the  memory  which  preserves  a 
recollection"  of  the  resolution  taken  before  falling  asleep.  I  have  not 
had  an  opportunity  of  making  the  experiment. 

"  It  appears  to  me,  that  from  the  previous  ob- 

Geueral  conclusions.  .  .      .  •      i  i      ,•  n 

servations  it  inevitably  lollows : 

1°,  That  in  sleep  the  senses  are  torpid,  but  that  the  mind  wakes. 

2°,  That  certain  of  our  senses  continue  to  transmit  to  the  mind 
the  imperfect  sensations  they  receive. 

3°,  That  the  mind  judges  these  sensations,  and  that  it  is  in  virtue 
of  its  judgments  that  it  awakens,  or  does  not  awaken,  the  senses. 

4°,  That  the  reason  why  the  mind  awakens  the  senses  is,  that 
sometimes  the  sensation  disquiets  it,  being  unusual  or  painful,  that 
sometimes  the  sensation  warns  it  to  rouse  the  senses,  as  being  an 
indication  of  the  moment  when  it  ought  to  do  so. 

5°,  That  the  mind  possesses  the  power  of  av/akening  the  senses, 
but  that  it  only  accomplishes  this  by  its  own  activity  overcoming 
their  torpor  ;  that  this  torpor  is  an  obstacle^  —  an  obstacle  greater 
or  less  as  it  is  more  or  less  profound. 

"If  these  inferenceii  are  just,  it  follows  that  we  can  waken  our- 
selves at  will  and  at  appointed  signals ;  that  the  instrument  called 
an  alanim  (reoeil-matin)  does  not  act  so  much  by  the  noise  it 
makes  as  by  the  association  we  have  established  in  going  to  bed 
between  the  noise  and  the  thought  of  wakening ;  that,  therefore,  an 
instrument  much  less  noisy,  and  emitting  only  a  feeble  sound,  would 
probably  produce  the  same  effect.  It  follows,  moreover,  that  we  can 
inure  ourselves  to  sleep  profoundly  in  the  midst  of  the  loudest 
noises  ;  that  to  accomplish  this  it  is  perhaps  sufficient,  on  the  first 
night,  to  impress  it  on  our  minds  that  these  sounds  do  not  desen-e 
attention,  and  ought  not  to  awaken  us;  and  that  by  this  mean,  any 
one  may  probably  sleep  as  well  in  the  mill  as  the  miller  himself.  It 
follows,  in  fine,  that  the  sleep  of  the  strong  and  courageous  ought  to 
be  less  easily  disturbed,  all  things  equal,  than  the  sleejD  of  the  weak 
and  timid.  Some  historical  facts  may  he  quoted  in  proof  of  this 
last  conclusion." 

I  shall  not  quote  to  you  the  observations  of  M.  Jouffroy  on  Rev- 
erie,^ Avhich  form  a  sequel,  and  a  confirmation,  of 
Jouffroy'8  theory  cor-  those  he  has  made  upon  sleep.  Before  termina- 
roborated  by  tbe  case       ^-      ^^^j^  g^biect,  I  may,  however,  notice  a  rather 

of    the     postman    of  V  i  •    ,  i,        • 

jjjj„g  curious  case  which  occurs  to  my  recollection,  ana 

which  tends  to  corroborate   the   theory  of  the 
French  psychologist.     I  give  it  on  the  authority  of  Junkei*,  a  cele' 

1  See  Melanges,  p.  30'1  */  Sfr, .  —  Ed. 


Lkct.  XVn.  METAPHYSICS.  2o3 

brated  jiliysician  and  professor  of  Halle,  who  flourished  during  tho 
first  half  of  last  century,  and  he  says  that  he  took  every  pains  to 
verify  the  foots  by  frequent  personal  observation.  I  regret  that  I 
am  unable  at  the  moment  to  find  the  book  in  which  the  case  is 
recorded,  but  of  all  its  relevant  circumstances  I  have  a  vivid  remem- 
brance. The  object  of  observation  was  the  postman  between  Halle 
and  a  town,  I  forget  which,  some  eight  miles  distant.  This  distance 
the  postman  was  in  the  habit  of  traversing  daily.  A  considerable 
])art  of  his  way  lay  across  a  district  of  unenclosed  cham])aigu 
meadow-land,  and  in  walking  over  this  smooth  surface  the  postman 
was  generally  asleep.  But  at  the  termination  of  this  part  of  liis 
load,  there  was  a  narrow  foot-bridge  over  a  stream,  and  to  reach  this 
bi-idge  it  was  necessary  to  ascend  some  broken  steps.  Now,  it  was 
ascertained  as  completely  as  any  fu-t  of  the  kind  could  be,  —  the 
observers  w^ere  shrewd,  and  the  object  of  observation  was  a  man  of 
undoubted  probity,  —  I  say,  it  was  completely  ascertained :  —  1°^ 
That  the  postman  .was  asleep  in  passing  over  this  level  course;  2°, 
That  he  hehl  on  his  way  in  this  state  Avithout  deflection  towards  the 
bridge  ;  and,  S°,  That  before  arriving  at  the  bridge,  he  awoke.  But 
this  case  is  not  only  deserving  of  all  credit  from  the  positive  testi- 
mony by  which  it  is  vouched  ;  it  is  also  credible  as  only  one  of  a 
class  of  analogous  cases  which  it  may  be  adducetl  as  reiiresenting. 
This  case,  besides  showing  that  the  mind  must  be  active  though  the 
body  is  asleep,  shows  also  that  certain  bodily  functions  may  be  dor- 
mant, while  others  are  alert.  The  locomotive  faculty  was  here  in 
".'.xercise,  while  the  senses  were  in  slumber.  This  suggests  to  me 
mother  example  of  the  same  ph;enoiiienon.     It  is  found  in  a  story 

told  by  P2rav>mus  '  in  one  of  liis  letters,  concern- 
Case  of  oporiims.  .         1  .'    ,  T    p.         ,    .V  •  ,,  1    1       i     1 

mg  his  learned  iriend  Oponnus,  the  celebratctl 
]>rofessor  and  ])riuter  of  Basle.  Oporiuus  was  on  a  journey  with  a 
bookseller;  and,  on  their  road,  they  had  fallen  in  with  a  manuscri])t. 
Tired  with  th(>ir  day's  travelling,  —  travelling  was  then  almost 
exclusively  ]teiforuied  on  horseback,  —  they  i-ame  at  nightfall  to 
their  inn.  They  were,  however,  curious  to  ascertain  the  contents  of 
their  manuscript,  and  Oporiuus  undertook  the  task  of  reading  it 
aloud.  This  lie  continued  for  some  time,  wlieu  the  bookseller  found 
it  necessary  to  put  a  question  coiicerning  a  wonl  which  he  had  not 
rightly  understood.  It  was  now  disc-overed  that  Oporiuus  was 
asleep,  and  being  awakened  by  his  companion,  he  found  that  he  had 
no  rec<illection  of  Avhat  for  a  cons:(hTal)le  time  he  had  been  reading. 

1  This  story  is  t'jkl  by  Felix  Daferus  ( Ofe-  '.Iioirias  'Mat -rii.-.  .s..e  Bc*>n  \c^tambulntio: 
ifrfn»((>/if.«,  lib.  i.  ji.  i)>.  Tlii' pen"!!!  >o  wbiin'  'Hr.llor^  Disputation's  "if  Mcbcrttvi  H:st.  ^ 
Oporiuus  rt" ml,  was  tbe  futtier  ol'tlie  iiai>-at(ir.       Cn-ai.   *.  \  H.  \..  -Wl. }      ¥.'> 


234  METAPHYSICS.  i.Ecr.   XVD. 

Most  of  you,  I  daresay,  have  known  or  heard  of  similar  occurrences, 
and  I  do  not  quote  the  anecdote  as  anything  remarkable.  But,  still, 
it  is  a  case  concurring  with  a  thousand  others  to  prove,  1°,  That  one 
bodily  sense  or  function  may  be  asleep  while  another  is  awake  ;  and, 
2°,  That  the  mind  may  be  in  a  certain  state  of  activity  during  sleep, 
and  no  memory  of  that  activity  remain  after  the  sleep  has  ceased. 
The  first  is  evident ;  for  Oporinus,  while  reading,  must  have  had  his 
eyes  and  the  muscles  of  his  tongue  and  fauces  awake,  thougli  his  ears 
and  other  senses  were  asleep  ;  and  the  second  is  no  less  so,  for  the 
act  of  reading  supposed  a  very  complex  series  of  mental  energies. 
I  may  notice,  by  the  way,  that  physiologists  have  observed,  that  our 
bodily  senses  and  powers  do  not  fall  asleep  simultaneously,  but  in  a 
certain  succession.  We  all  know  that  the  first  symptom  of  slumber 
is  the  relaxation  of  the  eyelids ;  whereas,  hearing  continues  alert  for 
a  season  after  the  power  of  vision  has  been  dormant.  In  the  case 
last  alluded  to,  this  order  was,  however,  violated  ;  and  the  sight  was 
forcibly  kept  awake  while  the  hearing  had  lapsed  into  torpidity. 

In  the  case  of  sleep,  therefore,  so  far  is  it  from  being  proved  that 
the  mind  is  at  any  moment  unconscious,  that  the  result  of  observation 
would  incliuQ  us  to  the  opposite  conclusion. 


LECTURE    XVIII. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,  —  GENERAL    PHENOMENA,  —  IS    THE   MIND 
EVER    UNCONSCIOUSLY    MODIFIED? 

I  PASS  now  to  a  question  in  some  respects  of  still  more  proximate 

interest  to  the  j)sychologist  than  that  discussed 

Is  the  mind  ever  un-       j^^  ^^^^  preceding  Lecture;  for  it  is  one  which, 

according  as  it  is  decided,  will  determine  the 
character  of  our  exj)lanation  of  many  of  the  most  important  phae- 
noinena  in  the  phil()Soi>hy  of  mind,  and,  in  particular,  the  great 
phuiiiomena  of  ]\Iemory  and  Association.  The  question  T  refer  to 
is.  Whether  the  mind  exerts  energies,  and  is  the  subject  of  modifi- 
cations, of  neither  of  which  it  is  conscious.  This  is  the  most  gen- 
eral expression  of  a  problem  which  has  hardly  been  mentioned,  fai 
less  mooted,  in  this  country;  and  when  it  has  attracted  a  ])assing 
notice,  the  sui)position  of  an  unconscious  action  or  passion  of  the 
mind,  has  been  treated  as  something  either  unintelligible,  or  absurd. 
In  Germany,  on  the  contrary,  it  has  not  only  been  canva.ssed,  but 
the  alternative  which  the  philosophers  of  this  country  have  lightly 
considered  as  ridiculous,  has  been  gravely  established  as  a  conclu- 
sion which  the  ))h<'unomena  not  only  warrant,  but  enforce.  The 
French  philosojthers,  for  a  long  time,  viewed  the  question  in  the 
same  light  as  the  British.  Condillac,  indeed,  set  the  latter  the 
example;^  but  of  late  a  revolution  is  apj)arent,  and  two  recent 
French  psychologists^  have  marvellously  propounded  the  doctrine, 
long  and  generally  established  in  Germany,  as  something  new  and 
unheard  of  before  their  own  assertion  of  the  ])aradox. 

This  (pu-stion  is  one  not  only  of  inqxutance,  but  of  difficulty;  1 
shall  endeavor  to  make  you  understand  its  j)urj)ort  by  arguing  il 
upon  broader  groun<ls  than  has  hitherto  been  done,  and  shall  pre- 
pare you,  by  some  jtreliminary  information,  for  its  discussion.  I 
shall  first  of  all  adduce  sonic  ])roof  of  the  fact,  that   the  mind  may, 

Mild  (htes,  contain  far  more  latent  furniture  than 

Three     degrees     of  •    r  -x  rn        • 

*■  conseiousness  informs  us  it   possesses.      1  o  sim- 

iiu'ntal  latency.  '        .      .  •   •        , 

]>lif\-  the  <liscussion,  I  shnll  distinguish  three 
<b'grees  of  this  mental  latency. 

1    Ex.iai  xitr  r   Oris^inf  (lea  Cnnnoiffanr.r.^   J{ii-  2  Cardaillnr  niul   I>nmiron.     8e«  below,  p 

matnti      Sect    ii.  cli.  1.  (  4 — 1.3.—  Ei).  avi  —  Ki. 


286  M  E  T  A  P  JI Y  S  I C  S  . 


Lect.  XVI  1L 


In   the   first  place,  it  is  to  be  reineiubered  that  the  riches,  the 
,|^  possessions  of  our  mind,  are  not  to  be  nieasui-ed 

by  its  present  momentary  activities,  but  by  tlie 
amount  of  its  acquired  liabits.  I  know  a  science,  or  languac^e,  not 
merely  while  I  make  a  temporary  use  of  it,  but  inasmuch  as  I  can 
apply  it  when  and  how  I  will.  Thus  the  infinitely  greater  part  of 
our  spiritual  treasures,  lies  always  beyond  the  s])here  of  conscious- 
ness, hid  in  the  obscure  recesses  of  the  mind.  This  is  the  first 
degree  of  latency.  In  regard  to  this,  there  is  no  difficulty,  or  dis- 
pute;  and  I  only  take  it  into  account  in  order  to  obviate  luiscon- 
ception,  and  because  it  affords  a  transition  towards  the  other  two 
degrees  which  it  conduces  to  illustrate. 

The  second  degree  of  latency  exists  when  the  mind  contains  cer- 
The  second  ^'^"^  Systems  of  knowledge,  or  certain  habits  of 

action,  which  it  is  wholly  unconscious  of  pos- 
sessing in  its  ordinary  state,  but  which  are  revealed  to  conscious- 
ness in  certain  extraordinary  exaltations  of  its  powers.  The  evi- 
dence on  this  point  shows  that  the  mind  frequently  contains  whole 
systems  of  knowledge,  which,  though  in  our  normal  state  they  have 
faded  into  absolute  oblivion,  may,  in  certain  almormal  states,  as 
madness,  febrile  delirium,  somnambulism,  catalepsy,  etc.^  flash  out 
into  luminous  consciousness,  and  even  throw  into  the  shade  of  un- 
consciousness those  other  systems  bv  which  thev  had,  for  a  lont' 
period,  been  eclipsed,  and  even  extinguished.  For  example,  there 
are  cases  in  which  the  extinct  memory  of  whole  languages  was  sud- 
denly restored,  and,  what  is  even  still  more  rernarkable,  in  which 
the  faculty  Avas  exhibited  of  accurately  repeating,  in  known  or  un- 
known tongues,  passages  which  were  never  within  the  grasp  of 
conscious  memory  in  the  normal  state.  This  degree,  this  plue- 
nomenon.  of  latency,  is  one  of  the  most  marvellous  in  the  whole 
compass  of  philosojdiy^  and  the  proof  of  its  reality  will  prepare  us 
for  an  enlightened  consideration  of  the  third,  of  which  the  evi- 
dence, though  not  less  certain,  is  not  equally  obtrusive.  But,  ho^\-- 
€ver  renurkable  and  imj)ortant,  this  phienomenon  has  been  almost 
wholly  ncg]e(;ted  by  psychologists,^  and  the  cases  which  I  adduce  in 
iliuslnition  of  its  reality  have  never  been  previously  collected  and 
applied.  That  in  madness,  in  fever,  in  soinnanibulism,  and  other 
abnormal  stajtes,  the  mind  should  betray  capacities  and  extensive 
systems  of  knowledge,  of  which  it  was  at  other  times  wholly  uncon- 
scious, is  a  fact  so  remarkable  that  if  may  well  demand  the  highest 
evidence  to  establish  its  truth.     But   of  such  a  character  is  the 

1  These  remarks  were  probably  written  be-       Intellectual  Powers.   He  collects  some  very  curt 
fore  the  publication  of  Abercrombie  on  the       "us  instancps:  see  p,  314,  10th  edition.  — Ed- 


-LECtv  XVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  237 

evidence  which  I  am  now  to  give  you.  Tt  consists  of  cases  reported 
by  thd  most  intelligent  and  trustwortliy  observers,  —  by  ol>servers 
Avholly  ignorant  of  each  other's  testimony  ;  and  the  phienomena 
observed  were  of  so  palpable  and  unambiguous  a  nature  that  they 
could  not  possibly  have  been  mistaken  or  misinterpreted. 

The   first,   and   least   interesting,  evidence  1 

Evidence  from  cases  i     n         i  i  •        -i      •        t     r  c  ^ 

.      ,  shall    adduce,   is   derived   irom   cases   or    mad- 

ofinadness.  _      '    _ 

ness ;  it  is  given  by  a  celebrated  American 
physician,   Dr.   Rush. 

"The  records  of  the  wit  and  cunning  of  madmen,"  says  the  Doc- 
tor, "  are  numerous  in  every  country.  Talents  for  eloquence,  poetry, 
music,  and  painting,  and  uncommon  ingenuity  in  several  of  the 
mechanical  arts,  are  often  evolved  in  this  state  of  madness.  A 
gentleman,  whom  I  attended  in  an  hos])ital  in  the  year  1810,  often 
delighted  as  well  as  astonished  tlie  patients  and  officers  of  our 
hospital  by  his  displays  of  oratory,  in  preaching  from  n  tnlAc  in  the 
hospital  yard  every  Sunday.  A  female  patient  of  mine  who  became 
insane,  after  ])arturition,  in  the  year  1807,  sang  hymns  and  songs  of 
her  own  composition  during  the  latter  stage  of  her  illness,^  with  a 
tone  of  voice  so  soft  and  pleasant  that  I  hung  upon  it  with  delight 
every  time  I  visited  her.  She  had  never  discovered  a  talent  for 
[•oetry  or  music,  in  any  previous  part  of  her  life.  Two  instances  of 
a  talent  for  drawing,  evolved  by  madness,  have  occurred  within  my 
knowledge.  And  wliere  is  the  hospital  for  mad  people,  in  which 
elegant  and  com])lctely  rigged  ships,  and  curious  pieces  of  machinery, 
have  not  been  exhibited  by  [jcrsons  Avho  never  discovered  the  least 
turn  for  a  mechanical  art,  previously  to  their  derangement?  Some- 
times we  observe  in  mad  ])eo])le  an  unexpected  resuscitation  of 
knowledge  ;  hence  we  hear  them  describe  past  events,  and  speak  in 
ancient  or  modern  languages,  or  repeat  long  and  interesting  pas- 
sages from  books,  none  of  which,  we  are  sure,  they  were  capable  of 
recollecting  in  ihe  natural  and  healthy  state  of  their  mind."  ^ 

The  second  class  of  cases  are  those  of  fever;  and  the  first  I  shall 
adduce  is  eriven  on  the  authority  of  the  patient 

irom  cases  of  fever.  ^     _       _  _  -  _       '    _ 

himself  This  is  ]\Ir.  Flint,  a  very  intelligent 
American  clergymaTi.  I  take  it  fi-oin  his  Ilecollections  oftheValh'i/ 
of  the  MUsissippi.  lie  was  tra\ cirmg  in  the  State  of  Illinois,  and 
suffered  the  common  lot  of  visitants  from  other  climates,  in  being 
taken  down  with  a  bilious  fever.  "I  am  aware,"  he  remarks,  "that 
every  sutlerer  in  this  way  is  apt  to  think  his  own  case  extraordi- 
nary.    ]\Iy  physicians  agreed  with  all  who  saw  me  that  my  case 

I  Beasley,  On  thr  Mind,  p.  474. 


238  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVItt 

was  so.  As  very  few  live  to  record  the  issue  of  a  sickness  like  mine, 
and  as  you  have  requested  me,  and  as  I  have  promised,  to  be  par- 
ticular, I  will  relate  some  of  the  circumstances  of  this  disease.  And 
it  is  in  my  view  desirable,  in  the  bitter  agony  of  such  diseases,  that 
more  of  the  symptoms,  sensations  and  sufferings,  should  have  been 
recorded  than  have  been ;  and  that  others  in  similar  predicaments 
may  know  that  some  before  them  have  had  sufferings  like  theirs, 
and  have  survived  them.  I  had  had  a  fever  before,  and  had  risen, 
and  been  dressed  every  day.  But  in  this,  Avith  the  first  day  1  was 
prostrated  to  infontine  weakness,  and  felt,  with  its  first  attack,  that  it 
was  a  thing  very  different  from  what  I  had  yet  experienced.  Par- 
oxysms of  derangement  occurred  the  third  day,  and  this  was  to  me 
a  new  state  of  mind.  That  state  of  disease  in  which  partial  de- 
rangement is  mixed  Avith  a  consciousness  generally  sound,  and  a 
sensibility  preternaturally  excited,  I  should  sujjpose  the  most  dis- 
tressing of  all  its  forms.  At  the  same  time  that  I  was  unable  to 
recognize  my  friends,  I  was  informed  that  my  memory  was  more 
than  ordinarily  exact  and  retentive,  and  that  I  repeated  whole  pas- 
sages in  the  different  languages  which  I  knew,  with  entire  accuracy. 
I  recited,  without  losing  or  misplacing  a  word,  a  passage  of  poetry 
Avhich  I  could  not  so  repeat  after  I  recovered  my  health." 

The  following  more  curious  case,  is  given  by  Lord  Monboddo  in 
his  Antient  Metaphysics} 

Case  of  the  Com-  ,,  j^  ^^^^  communicated  in  a  letter  from  the 

tesse  de  Laval. 

late  Mr.  Hans  Stanley,  a  gentleman  well  known 
both  to  the  learned  and  political  woi-ld,  who  did  me  the  honor  to 
correspond  with  me  upon  the  subject  of  my  first  volume  of  meta- 
physics. 1  will  give  it  in  the  words  of  that  gentleman.  He  intro- 
duces it,  by  saying,  that  it  is  an  extraordinary  fact  in  the  history 
of  mind,  which  he  believes  stands  single,  aiul  for  which  he  does 
not  pretend  to  account;  then  he  goes  on  to  narrate  it:  'About 
six-and-twenty  years  ago,  when  I  was  in  France,  I  had  an  inti- 
macy in  the  family  of  the  late  Marechal  de  Montmorenci  de  Laval. 
His  son,  the  Comte  de  Laval,  was  married  to  Mademoiselle  de 
Maupeaux,  the  daughter  of  a  Lieutenant-General  of  that  name,  and 
the  niece  of  the  late  Chancellor.  This  gentleman  was  killed  at  the 
battle  of  Hastenbeck ;  his  widow  survived  him  some  years,  but  is 
since  dead. 

" '  The  following  fact  comes  from  her  own  mouth.  She  has  told 
it  me  repeatedly.  She  was  a  woman  of  perfect  veracity,  and  very 
good  sense.     She  appealed  to  her  servants  and  family  for  the  truth. 

1  Vol.  ii.  p.  217. 


Lect.   XVm.  METAPHYSICS.  .  239 

Nor  did  she,  indeed,  seem  to  be  sensible  that  the  matter  was  so 
extraordinary  as  it  appeared  to  me.  I  Avrote  it  down  at  the  time ; 
and  I  have  the  memorandum  among  some  of  my  papers. 

" '  The  Comtesse  de  Laval  had  been  observed,  by  servants  who 
sate  up  with  her  on  account  of  some  indisposition,  to  talk  in  her 
sleep  a  language  that  none  of  thern  understood;  nor  were  they  sure, 
or,  indeed,  herself  able  to  guess,  upon  the  sounds  being  repeated 
to  her,  whether  it  was  or  was  not   gibberish. 

"'Uj)on  her  lying  in  of  one  of  her  children,  she  was  attended 
by  a  nurse,  who  was  of  the  province  of  Brittany,  and  who  imme-. 
diately  knew  the  meaning  of  what  she  said,  it  being  in  the  idiom 
of  the  natives  of  that  country;  but  she  herself,  when  awake,  did 
not  understand  a  single  syllable  of  what  she  had  uttered  in  her 
sleep,  upon  its  being  retold  her. 

"'She  was  bom  in  that  province,  and  had  been  nursed  in  a 
family  where  nothing  but  that  language  was  spoken  ;  so  that,  in 
her  first  infancy,  she  had  known  it,  and  no  other ;  but,  when  she 
returned  to  her  j^arents,  she  had  no  opportunity  of  keeping  up  the 
use  of  it ;  and,  as  I  have  before  said,  she  did  not  understand  a 
word  of  Breton  when  awake,  though  she  spoke  it  in  her  sleep. 

" '  I  need  not  say  that  the  Comtesse  de  Laval  never  said  or 
imagined  that  she  used  any  words  of  the  Breton  idiom,  more  than 
were  necessary  to  express  those  ideas  that  are  within  the  compass 
of  a  child's  knowledge  of  objects,' "  etc. 

A  highly  interesting  case  is  given  by  Mr.  Coleridge  in  his  Bio- 
graphia  lAteraria} 

"It  occurred,"  says  Mr.  Coleridge,  "in  a 
ase  Riven  y  o  e-  Roman  Catholic  town  in  Germany,  a  year  or  two 
before  my  arrival  at  Gottingen,  and  had  not  then 
ceased  to  be  a  frequent  subject  of  conversation.  A  young  woman  of 
four  or  five  and  twenty,  who  could  neither  read  nor  write,  was  seized 
with  a  nervous  fever;  during  which,  acconling  to  the  asseverations 
of  all  the  priests  and  monks  of  the  neighborhood,  she  became  pos- 
sessed, and,  .IS  it  appeared,  by  a  very  learned  devil.  She  continued 
incessantly  talking  Latin,  Greek,  and  Hebrew,  in  very  pompous  tones, 
an<l  with  most  distinct  enunciation.  This  possession  was  rend<'red 
more  ])n»l>able  by  the  known  fact  that  she  was  or  had  been  a  here- 
tic. Voltaire  humorously  advises  the  devil  to  decline  all  ac(iuaint- 
antni  with  medical  men;  and  it  would  have  been  more  to  his  repu- 
tation, if  he  had  taken  this  advice  in  the  present  instance.  The 
case  had  attracted  the  jtarticular  attention  of  a  young  pliysician, 
and  by  his  statement  many  eminent  physiologists  and  psychologists 

1  Vol.  i.  p.  117,  (edit.  1847). 


240  ^  METAPHYSICS.  LeCT.  XVIll 

visited  the  town,  and  cross-examined  the  case  on  the  spot.  Sheets 
full  of  her  ravings  were  taken  down  from  her  own  mouth,  and  were 
found  to  consist  of  sentences,  coherent  and  intelligible  each  for 
itself,  but  with  little  or  no  connection  with  each  other.  Of  the 
Hebrew,  a  small  j^ortion  only  could  be  traced  to  the  Bible,  the 
remainder  seemed  to  be  in  the  Rabbinical  dialect.  All  trick  or 
conspiracy  was  out  of  the  question.  Not  only  had  the  young 
woman  ever  been  a  harmless,  simple  creature;  but  she  was  evi- 
dently laboring  under  a  nervous  fever.  In  the  town,  in  which  she 
had  been  resident  for  many  yeai's  as  a  servant  in  different  families, 
no  solution  presented  itself.  The  young  physician,  however,  de- 
termined to  trace  her  past  life  step  by  step ;  for  the  patient  herself 
was  incapable  of  returning  a  rational  answer.  He  at  length  suc- 
ceeded in  discovering  the  place  where  her  pai-ents  had  lived :  trav- 
elled thither,  found  them  dead,  but  an  uncle  surviving ;  and  from 
him  learned  that  the  patient  had  been  charitably  taken  by  an  old 
Protestant  pastor  at  nine  years  old,  and  had  remained  with  him 
some  years,  even  till  the  old  man's  death.  Of  this  pastor  the 
uncle  knew  nothing,  but  that  he  was  a  very  good  man.  With 
great  difficulty,  and  after  much  search,  our  young  medical  philoso- 
pher discovered  a  niece  of  the  pastor's  who  had  lived  with  him  as 
his  housekeeper,  and  had  inherited  his  effects.  She  remembered 
the  girl ;  related  that  her  venerable  \mcle  had  been  too  indulgent, 
and  'could  not  bear  to  hear  the  girl  scolded ;  that  she  was  willing 
to  have  kept  her,  but  that,  after  her  patron's  death,  the  girl  herself 
refused  to  stay.  Anxious  inquiries  were  then,  of  course,  made  con- 
cerning the  pastor's  habits ;  and  the  solution  of  the  phaenomenon 
Avas  so(m  obtained.  For  it  aj^peared  that  it  had  been  the  old  man's 
<;ustom,  for  years,  to  walk  up  and  down  a  passage  of  his  house  into 
which  the  kitchen-door  opened,  and  to  read  to  himself,  with  a  loud 
voice,  out  of  his  favorite  books.  A  considerable  number  of  these 
were  still  in  the  niece's  possession.  She  added,  that  he  was  a  very 
learned  man,  and  a  great  Hebraist.  Among  the  books  were  found 
a  collection  of  Rabbinical  writings,  together  with  several  of  the 
Greek  and  Latin  fathers ;  and  the  physician  succeeded  in  identify- 
ing so  many  passages  with  those  taken  down  at  the  young  woman's 
bedside,  that  no  doiibt  could  remain  in  any  rational  mind  concern- 
ing the  true  origin  of  the  impressions  made  on  her  nervous  sys- 
tem." 

These    cases    fhus    evince  the    general    fact, 
geneia     ac        ^j^^^  ^  mental  modification  is  not  proved  not 

these  caeeg  establish.  _  ^ 

to  be,  merely  because  consciousness  affords  us  no 

•evidence  of  its  existence.     This  general  fact  being  established,  I 


Lkot.  XVJII.  METAPHYSICS.  241 

now  proceed  to  consider  the  question  in  relation  to  the  third  chiss 

or  degree  of  latent  modifications,  —  a  class  in 
e     ir     egreeo         relation  to,  and  on  the  ijround  of  which  alone,  it 

/atency.  '  °  .  ' 

has  ever  hitherto  been  argued  by  philosophers. 
The  problem,   then,   in   regard  to  this  class  is, — Are   there,   in 
ordinary,    mental    modifications,  —  i.  e.   mental 
Uie  problem  in  re-       activities  and  passivitics,  of  which  we  are  uncon- 

tfard    to    this    degree  .  .  . 

,^.^^^.^i  scious,   but  which  manliest    their  existence   by 

effects  of  which  we  are  conscious  ? 
I  have  tlius  stated  the  question,  because  tliis  appears  to  me  the 
most  unaniljiguous  form  in  which  it  can  be  ex- 
To  be  considered  in       pregged  ;  ti.id  hi  treating  of  it,  I  shall,  in  the  first 

it.-elf.   aud  in  its  his-         '  '  ...*„'., 

^^^J.^.  place,  consider  it  in  itself,  and,  in  the  second 

place,  in  its  history.  I  adopt  this  order,  because 
the  principal  difficulties  which  affect  the  problem  arise  from  the 
e<iuivocal  and  indeterminate  language  of  philosophers.  These  it 
is  obviously  necessary  to  avoid  in  the  first  instance;  but,  having 
obtained  an  insight  into  the  question  itself,  it  will  be  easy,  in  a  sub- 
sequent historical  narrative,  to  show  how  it  has  been  perplexed  and 
<larkened  by  the  mode  in  Avhich  it  has  been  handled  by  jdiiloso- 
pliers.  I  request  your  attention  to  this  matter,  as  in  the  solution  of 
this  general  problem  is  contained  the  solution  of  several  important 
questions,  which  will  arise  under  our  consideration  of  the  special 
faculties.  It  is  impossible,  however,  at  the  present  stage  of  our 
progress,  to  exhibit  all,  or  even  the  strongest  part  of,  the  evidence 
for  the  alternative  which  I  ado[)t ;  and  you  must  bear  in  mind  that 
there  is  much  more  to  be  said  in  favor  of  this  opinion  than  what  I 
am  able  at  present  to  adduce  to  you. 

In  the  question  proposed,  I  am  nut  only  strongly  inclined  to  the 

affirmative. —  nay,  I  do  not  hesitate  to  maintain, 

The  afhrmative  of      ^j^.^^  ^^.j^.^^   ^^.^,   .^j.^.  couscious  of  is  Constructed 

tliis    question     main-  <»       i  .  -,  , 

tajnej  out  of  what  wc  are  not  conscious  of,  —  tliat  our 

whole   knowledge,   in   fact,    is    made  up   of  the 

unknown  ;uid  the  incotrnizable. 

This  at  first  sight  may  appear  not  only  jiaradoxical,  but  contra- 
dictory.    It  may  be  objected,   1°,  IIow  can  we 

oca  irma  ive       j^^ow  that  to  exist  which  lies  beyond  the  one  con- 
two  objections. 

dition  of  all  knowledge, —  consciousness?  And 
2°,  IIow  can  knowledge  arise  out  of  ignorance,  —  consciousness  out 
of  unconsciousness,  —  the  cognizable  out  of  the  incognizable, — 
that  is,  how  can  one  opposite  ])rofeed  out  of  the  other? 

In  answer  to  the  first   objection,  —  how  can  we   know  that  of 

31 


242  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVIIL 

whicli  we   are  conscious,  seeing   that  consciousness   is   the  condi- 
tion   of  knowledge,  —  it    is   enough  to  allege, 

The  first  objection         ^j^^^    ^j^^^^    ^^^     ^  ^-^-^    ^^.j^j^f^^  ^^.^.    neitlieP 

obviated.  ,  ,  .       ,  ,  ... 

know  nor  can  know  in  themselves,  —  that  is,  m 
their  direct  and  immediate  relation  to  our  faculties  of  knowledge^ 
but  which  manifest  their  existence  indirectly  through  the  medium  of 

their  effects.     This  is  the  case  with  the  mental 

riie  mental  modifi-       modifications  in  question ;  they  are  not  in  them- 

cations    lu    question       gelves  revealed  to  consciousness,  but  as  certain 

manifest    their    exist-  «  /.  •  -i  i 

ence  through  their  ef-  ^^cts  of  consciousncss  nccessanly  suppose  them 
lects.  -  to  exist,  and  to  exert  an  influence  in  the  mental 

processes,  we  are  thus  constrained  to  admit,  as 
modifications  of  mind,  what  are  not  in  themselves  phjenomena  of 

consciousness.  The  truth  of  this  will  be  ap- 
Estabiished    from       parent,  if,  before  descending  to  any  special  illus- 

the    nature    of     con-  .  •  n  i 

..   ,,  tration,  we  consider  that  consciousness   cannot 

gciousness  itsell.  ' 

exist  independently  of  some  peculiar  modifica- 
tion of  mind  ;  we  are  only  conscious  as  we  are  conscious  of  a  de- 
terminate state.  To  be  conscious,  we  must  be  conscious  of  some 
particular  perception,  or  remembrance,  or  imagination,  or  feeling, 
etc.;  we  have  no  general  consciousness.  But  as  consciousness  sup- 
poses a  special  mental  modification  as  its  object,  it  must  be  remem- 
bered, that  this  modification  or  state  supposes  a  change,  —  a  transi- 
tion from  some  other  state  or  modification.  But  as  the  modification 
must  be  present,  before  Ave  have  a  consciousness  of  the  modifica- 
tion, it  is  evident,  that  we  can  have  no  consciousness  of  its  rise  or 
awakenhig;  for  its  rise  or  awakening  is  also  the  rise  or  awakening 
of  consciousness. 
V.     But  the    illustration   of  this    is   contained   in   an   answer  to   the 

second  objection  which  asks,  — How  can  knowl- 
The   second  objec-       ^^^^^    come    out   of   ignorance,  —  consciousness 

out  of  unconsciousness,  —  the  known  out  of  the 
unknown,  —  how  can  one  opposite  be  made  up  of  the  other? 

In  the  removal  of  this  objection,  the  proof  of  the  thesis  which  I 

support  is  involved.     And  without  dealing   in 

The  special  eviaence       .ii,y  general  speculation,  I  shall  at  once  descend 

for  the  affirmative  of       ^^\]^q  gpeeial   evidence  which  appears  to  me 

the    general    problem  '■  . 

adduced.  ^^^t  merely  to  warrant,  but  to  necessitate  the 

conclusion,  that  the  sphere  of  our  conscious 
modifications  is  only  a  small  circle*  in  the  centre  of  a  far  wider 
sphere  of  action  and  passion,  of  whicli  we  are  only  conscious 
through  its  effects. 


Lect.  XVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  243 

Let  us  take  our  first  example  from  Perception,  —  the  perception 
of  external  objects,  and  in  that  faculty,  let  us 

I.  External  Percep-  .  .  ^ 

tion  commence  with  the  sense  of  sight.     Now,  you 

1    The   sense   of       either  already  know,  or  can  be  at  once  informed, 

^'^*'*'  what  it  is  that  has  obtained  the  name  of  J/m- 

Minimum  Visibile.  .  -,_.    ,,  .j         -tr  n 

tmitm  Vtsioile.  i  ou  are  oi  course  aware,  ni 
general,  that  vision  is  the  result  of  the  rays  of  light,  reflected  from 
the  surface  of  objects  to  the  eye  ;  a  greater  number  of  rays  is  re- 
flected from  a  larger  surface  ;  if  the  su2)erficial  extent  of  an  object, 
and,  consequently,  the  number  of  the  rays  which  it  reflects,  be  di- 
minished beyond  a  certain  limit,  the  object  becomes  invisible ;  and 
the  minimuni  visibile  is  the  smallest  expanse  which  can  be  seen,  — 
Avhich  can  consciously  affect  us,  —  which  we  can  be  conscious  of 
seeing.  This  being  understood,  it  is  plain  that  if  we  ilivide  this 
minimuni  visibile  into  two  pirts,  neither  half  can,  by  itselt^  be  an 
object  of  vision,  or  visual  consciousness.  They  are,  severally  and 
apart,  to  consciousness  as  zero.  But  it  is  evident,  that  each  half 
must,  by  itself,  have  produced  in  us  a  certain  modification,  real 
though  unperceived ;  for  as  the  perceived  whole  is  nothing  but  the 
union  of  the  unperceived  halves,  so  the  perception  —  the  perceived 
aflV'Ction  itself  of  which  Ave  are  conscious  —  is  only  the  sum  of  two 
modifications,  each  of  Avhich  severally  eludes  our  consciousness. 
When  Ave  look  at  a  distant  foi-est,  Ave  perceive  a  certain  expanse  of 
green.  Of  this,  as  an  aff"ection  of  our  organism,  Ave  are  clearly  and 
distinctly  conscious.  Now,  the  expanse  of  Avhich  Ave  are  conscious 
is  evidently  made  up  of  parts  of  Avhicli  Ave  are  not  conscious.  No 
leaf,  perhaps  no  tree,  may  be  separately  visible.  But  the  greenness 
of  the  forest  is  made  up  of  the  greenness  of  the  leaves;  that  is,  the 
total  impression  of  wliich  Ave  are  conscious,  is  made  up  of  an  infini- 
tude of  small  impressions  of  Avhich  Ave  are  not  conscious. 

Take  another  example,  from  the  sense  of  hearing.     In  this  sense, 
there  is,  in  like  manner,  a  Minimuni  Audihile, 

2.  Sense  of  Hearing.         *i     *    •  1*11^1-1  •    » 

,,    .  ,.,..  that  IS,  a  sound  the   least  winch   can  come  nito 

Minimum  Audibile 

perception  and  consciousness.  But  this  mini- 
■)num,  widihile  is  made  \\\^  of  parts  which  severally  afli-ct  the  sense, 
but  of  wliich  artections,  separately,  Ave  are  not  conscious,  though  of 
their  joint  result  Ave  are.  AV"e  must,  therefore,  here  likcAvise  admit 
the  reality  of  modifications  beyond  tlic  sphere  of  consciousness. 
To  take  a  special  example.  When  Ave  hear  the  distant  murmur  of 
the  sea,  —  what  are  the  constituents  of  the  total  jierception  of 
Avhich  we  are  conscious?  This  murmur  is  a  sum  made  up  of  parts, 
and  the  sum  would  be  as  zero  if  the  parts  did  not  count  as  some- 


244  METAPHYSICS  Lixi.   A\  ill. 

thing.  The  noise  of  the  sea  is  the  complement  ol  the  noise  of  it>. 
several  waves ;  — 

itotniuv  re  HVfjuiTtev 

and  if  the  noise  of  each  wave  made  no  impression  on  our  sense,  the 
noise  of  the  sea,  as  the  result  of  these  impressions,  could  not  be 
realized.  But  the  noise  of  each  several  wave,  at  the  distance  we 
suppose,  is  inaudible ;  we  must,  however,  admit  that  they  produce  a 
certain  modification,  beyond  consciousness,  on  the  percipient  sub- 
ject ;  for  this  is  necessarily  involved  in  the  reality  of  their  result. 
The  same  is  equally  the  case  in  tlie  other  senses ;  the  taste  or  smell 

of  a  dish,  be  it  ac^reeable  or  disagreeable,  is  com- 

3.  The  other  senses.  i      /.  i   -^      i         ^  n      •  -i  i 

posed  oi  a  multitude  oi  severally  imperceptible 
elFects,  which  the  stimulating  particles  of  the  viand  cause  on  differ- 
ent points  of  the  nervous  expansion  of  the  gustatory  and  olfactory 
organs ;  and  the  pleasant  or  painful  feeling  of  softness  or  roughness 
is  the  result  of  an  infinity  of  unfelt  modifications,  which  the  body 
handled  determines  on  the  countless  papillae  of  the  nerves  of 
touch. " 

Let  us  now  take,  an  example  from  another  mental  process.     We 

have  not  yet  spoken  of  what  is  called  the  Asso- 
II.   Association  of         •    j^^^  ^^  j  .^^.^^     .^^^^-j  .^.  j^  gnough  for  our  pres- 

ent  purpose  that  you  should  be  aware,  that  one 
thought  suggests  another  in  conformity  to  certain  determinate  laws, 
—  laws  to  which  the  succession  of  our  whole  mental  states  are  sub- 
jected. Now  it  sometimes  happens,  that  we  find  one  thought  ris- 
ing immediately  after  another  in  consciousness,  but  whose  conse- 
rcution  we  can  reduce  to  no  law  of  association.  Now  in  these  cases 
we  can  generally  discover,  by  an  attentive  observation,  that  these 
two  thoughts,  though  not  themselves  associated,  are  each  associated 
with  certain  other  thoughts ;  so  that  the  whole  consecution  would 
have  been  regular,  had  these  intermediate  thoughts  come  into  con- 
sciousness, between  the  two  which  ai-e  not  immediately  associated. 
Suppose,  for  instance,  that  A,  B,  C,  are  three  thoughts,  —  that  A 
and  C  cannot  immediately  suggest  each  other,  but  that  each  is  asso- 
ciated with  B,  so  that  A  will  naturally  suggest  B,  and  B  naturally 
suggest  C.  Now  it  may  happen,  that  we  ai-e  conscious  of  A,  and 
immediately  thereafter  of  C.  How  is  the  anomaly  to  be  explained  ? 
It  can  only  be  explained  on  the  principle  of  latent  modifications. 
A  suggests  C,  not  immediately,  but  through  B ;  but  as  B,  like  the 

1  ^Eschylus,  Prometheus,  1.  89. —Ed  pes,  p.  8,  9,  (ed.  Raspe);  and  lib.  ii.  c.  i.  j  9 

2  See  Leibnitz,  Nouveaux  Essais,  Avant-Pro-      et  seq.  —  Ed. 


pi';cen*^'n 


ji.^*^ I •■»%:, I  *■!«  *       ri  awc^i 


Lrct    XVm.  METAPHYSICS.  24^1 

half  of  tlie  minimuTn  visibile  or  minimum  aiidihile,  does  not  rise 
into  cons(!iou8ness,  we  are  apt  to  consider  it  as  non-existent.  You 
are  probably  aware  of  the  following  fact  in  mechanics.  If  a  nunv  ._v  ' 
ber  of  billiard  balls  be  placed  in  a  straitjcht  row  and  touchinjr  each  .t''^ 
other,  and  if  a  ball  be  made  to  strike,  in  the  line  of  the  row,  the 
ball  at  one  end  of  the  series,  what  Avill  happen  ?  The  motion  of  the 
impinging  ball  is  not  divided  among  the  whole  row  ;  this,  which  we 
might  a  priori  have  ex])ected,  does  not  happen,  but  the  impetus  is 
transmitted  through  the  intermediate  balls  which  remain  each  in  its 
place,  to  the  ball  at  the  opposite  end  of  the  series,  and  this  ball 
alone  is  impelled  on.  Something  like  this  seems  often  to  occur  in 
the  train  of  thought.  One  idea  mediately  suggests  another  into 
consciousness,  —  the  suggestion  passing  through  one  or  more  ideas 
which  do  not  themselves  rise  into  consciousness.  The  awakeninsr 
and  awakened  ideas  here  correspond  to  the  ball  striking  and  the 
ball  struck  off;  Avhile  the  intermediate  ideas  of  which  we  are  un- 
conscious, but  which  carry  on  the  suggestion,  rescjmble  the  inter- 
mediate balls  which  remain  moveless,  but  communicate  the  impulse. 
An  instance  of  this  occurs  to  me  with  which  I  was  recently  struck. 
Thinking  of  Ben  Lomond,  this  thought  was  immediately  followed 
by  the  thought  of  the  Prussian  system  of  education.  Now,  con- 
ceivable connection  between  these  two  ideas  in  themselves,  there 
was  none.  A  little  reflection,  however,  explained  the  anomaly. 
On  my  last  visit  to  the  mountain,  I  had  met  upon  its  sum- 
mit a  German  gentleman,  and  though  I  had  no  consciousness 
of  the  intermediate  and  unawakened  links  between  Ben  Lomond 
and  the  Prussian  schools,  they  were  undoubtedly  these,  —  the 
Gennan,  —  Germany, —  Prussia,  —  and,  these  media  being  admit- 
ted, the  connection  between  the  extremes  was  manifest. 

I  should  perhaps  reserve  for  a  future  occasion,  noticing  Mr.  Stew- 
art's   explanation   of    this    plnenomenon.      Tie 

Stewart's  cxpiaim-       admits    that    a    ])erce))tion    or    idea    may    ]>ass 

tion  of   the  pli.x-iiom-  .1  i^i  •      ^         -^i         ^1  •  '. 

^   .       .  ,.  througli    the    mind   without    leavinii   any  trace 

enon    of   Association         .  '^  c  j 

here  adduced.  ^'^    the    memory,    and    yet    serve    to    introduce 

other  ideas  connected  with  it  by  the  laws  of 
association.'  Mr.  Stewart  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  contemplated 
the  possibility  of  the  existence  and  agency  of  mental  modifications 
of  which  we  are  unconscious.  lie  grants  the  necessity  of  interpo- 
lating certain  intermediate  ideas,  in  order  to  account  for  the  connec- 
tion of  thought,  which  could  otherwise  be  explained  by  no  theory 
of  association;  and  he  admits  that  these  intermediate  ideas  are  not 

«I  E/ftTifnti,  part  ii.  chap,  ii.;    H'ori-.*.  vol.  ii.  i)p.  121,  122. 


/ 


246  METAPHYSICS.  '     Lect.  XVIII 

known  by  memory  to  have  actually  intervened.  So  far,  tliere  ia 
no  difference  in  the  two  doctrines.  But  now  comes  the  separa- 
tion. Mr.  Stewart  supposes  tliat  the  intermediate  ideas  are,  for 
an  instant,  awakened  into  consciousness,  but,  in  the  same  mo- 
ment, utterly  forgot;  whereas  the  opinion  I  would  prefer,  holds 
that    they  are    efficient  without    rising    into    consciousness.     Mr. 

Stewart's  doctrine  on  this  point  is  exposed  to  all 

Difficulties  of  Stew-         ,1        -i-zv.      i,-  i  ,  ^     ,  „    .      . 

t'=  doctrine  uilhculties,  and  has  none  of  the  proofs  m  its 

favor  which  concur  in  establishinor  the  other. 
In  the  first  place,  to  assume  the  existence  of  acts  of  consciousness 
of  which  there  is  no  memory  beyond  the  mo- 

1      jV  Spumes     &ct^  * 

of  consciousness  of  "^^"^  ^^  existence,  is  at  least  as  inconceivable 

which   there  is     no  an  hA^iothesis  as  the  other.     But,  in  the  second 

memory.  place,  it  violatcs  the  whole  analogy  of  consci- 

2.  Violates  the  anal-  Q^sness,  which  the  Other  does  not.     Conscious- 

ogy  of  consciousness. 

ness  supposes  memory ;  and  we  are  only  consci- 
ous as  we  are  able  to  connect  and  contrast  one  instance  of  our 
intellectual  existence  with  another.  Whereas,  to  suppose  the  exist- 
ence and  efficiency  of  modifications  beyond  consciousness,  is  not  at 
variance  with  its  conditions;  for  consciousness,  thousfh  it  assures  us 
of  the  reality  of  what  is  within  its  sphere,  says  nothing  against  the 

reality  of  what  is  without.     In  the  third  place, 

3.  Presumption  in       -^  j^^  demonstrated,  that,  in  iierception,  there  are 

favor  of  latent  acts  in  t/»        •  . 

association.  modifications,  efficient,  though  severally  imper- 

ceptible ;  why,  therefore,  in  the  other  faculties, 
should  there  not  likewise  be  modifications,  efficient,  though  unap- 

4.  Stewart's  hypo-  P«'ii'ent  ?  In  the  fourth  place,  there  must  be  some 
thesis  must  take  re-  rcason  for  the  assumed  fact,  that  there  are  per- 
fume in   the  counter       ceptions  Or  ideas  of  which  we  are  conscious,  but 

of  which  there  is  no  memory.  Xow,  the  only 
reason  that  can  possibly  be  assigned  is  that  the  consciousness  was 
too  faint  to  afford  the  condition  of  memory.  But  of  consciousness, 
however  faint,  there  must  be  some  memory,  however  short.  But 
this  is  at  variance  with  the  phenomenon,  for  the  ideas  A  and  C 
may  precede  and  follow  each  other  without  any  perceptible  interval, 
and  without  any  the  feeblest  memory  of  B.  If  there  be  no  mem- 
ory, there  could  have  been  no  consciousness ;  and,  therefore,  Mr. 
Stewart's  hypothesis,  if  strictly  interrogated,  must,  even  at  last, 
take  refuge  in  our  doctrine  ;  for  it  can  easily  be  shown,  that  the 
degree  of  memory  is  directly  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  con- 
sciousness, and,  consequently,  that  an  absolute  negation  of  memory 
is  an  absolute  negation  of  consciousness. 


a 


Lkct.  XVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  247 

Let  us  now  turn  to  another  class  of  phaenomena,  which  in  like 

manner  are  capable  of  an  adequate  explanation 

III.   Out  Acquired       q^]     ^,^  ^j^^.  tlicorv  I  have  advanced  ;  —  I  mean 

Dexterities  and  Hab-  ,  .  '  i   •         r-  »  •       i  -r^ 

jjj,  the  operations  resulting  from  our  Acquired  Dex- 

terities and  Habits. 
To  explain  these,  three  theories  have  been  advanced.     The  first 
regards  them  as  merely  mechanical  or  automatic, 

.V.   '^  *^u   '"        *,'       'ind  thus  denvin<i;  to  the  mind  all  active  or  vol- 

three      theories     ad-  _  '       ~ 

vanced.  untarv  intervention,  consequently  removes  them 

The  first.  bcvoiul  the  sphere  of  consciousness.    The  second, 

*  *^*^""'  ■  again,  allows  to  each  several  motion  a  separate 

Thfe  third.  ...  ' 

act  of  conscious  volition  ;  Avliile  the  third,  which 
I  would  maintain,  holds  a  medium  between  these,  constitutes  the 
mind  the  agent,  accords  to  it  a  conscious  volition  over  the  series,  but 
<lenie8  to  it  a  consciousness  and  deliberate  volition  in  regard  to  each 
separate  movement  in  the  series  which  it  determines. 

The  first  of  these  has  been  maintained,  among  others,  b}-  two 

philosophers   who  in   other  points   are   not   fre- 

The  first  or  mechani-       qyentlv  at  oue,— by  Reid  and  Hartley.  "  Habit," 

cal  theorj'.  maintained  -nt"  •  i         t  ^^         n  •         • 

by  lieid  an<i  Hartley.       **'^y^  Reid,  "  difters  from  instinct,  not  in  its  nature, 

but  in  its  origin  ;  the  last  being  natural,  the  first 
acquired.  Both  operate  without  will  or  intention,  Avithout  thought, 
and  therefore  maybe  called  mechanical  princii)les." '  In  another 
])assage,  he  expresses  himself  thus  :  "  I  conceive  it  to  be  a  part  of 
our  constitution,  that  wliat  we  have  been  accustomed  to  do,  we 
ac()uire  not  only  a  facility  but  a  })roneness  to  do  on  like  occasicms ; 
so  that  it  requires  a  particular  will  or  effort  to  forbear  it,  but  to  do  it 
refjuires  very  often  no  will  at  all."  - 

The  same  doctrine  is  laid  down  still  more  explicitly  by  Dr.  Hart- 
ley. "Suppose,"  says  he,  "  a  person,  who  has  a  perfectly  voluntary 
command  over  his  fingers,  to  begin  to  learn  to  play  on  the  harp- 
sichord. Tiie  first  step  is  to  move  his  fingers,  from  key  to  key,  with 
a  slow  motion,  looking  at  tlie  notes,  and  exerting  an  express  act  of 
volition  in  every  motion.  By  degrees  the  motions  cling  to  one 
another,  and  to  the  impressions  of  the  notes,  in  the  way  of  ititsocia- 
fion^  so  often  mentioned  ;  the  acts  of  volition  growing  less  and  less 
express  all  tlu;  time,  till,  at  last,  they  become  evanescent  and  imper- 
ce])tible.  For  an  expert  performer  will  play  from  notes,  or  idi  as  laitl 
up  in  the  memory,  and  at  tlie  .same  time  carry  on  a  quite  ditlerent 
train  of  thoughts  in  his  mind  ;  or  even  hold  a  conversation  with 
another.     Whence  we  conclude,  that  there  is  no  intervention  of  the 

1   Arlivt   Powrr.t,  l<>say  iii.,  part    i     chap.  3;  t'nit    tt'ork.r,  p.  .j50-  *  P>ifl 


248  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVIIL 

idea,  or  state  of  mind  called  will."     Cases  of  this  sort  Hartley  calls 
"  transitions  of  voluntary  actions  into  automatic  ones."  ' 

The  second  theory  is  maintained  against  the  first  by  Mr.  Stewart ; 

and  I  think  his  refutation  valid,  thougli  not  his 

The  second  theory       confirmation.     "I   Cannot  help   thinking  it,"  he 

maintained,  validly  as  "more  philosophical  to  suppose  that  those 

againist    the    first,    by  •'.'  ^    /  ....  ,^  , 

Stewart.  actions  Avhicli    are    originally  voluntary   always 

continue  so,  although  in  the  case  of  operations, 
which  are  become  habitual  in  consequence  of  long,  practice,  we  may 
not  be  able  to  recollect  every  different  volition.  Thus,  in  the  case 
of  a  performer  on  the  harpsichord,  I  apprehend  that  there  is  an  act 
of  the  will  preceding  every  motion  of  every  finger,  although  he  may 
not  be  able  to  recollect  these  volitions  afterwards,  and  although  lie 
may,  during  the  time  of  his  performance,  be  employed  in  carrying 
on  a  separate  train  of  thought.  For  it  must  be  remarked,  that  the 
most  rapid  performer  can,  when  he  pleases,  play  so  slowly  as  to  be 
able  to  attend  to,  and  to  recollect,  every  separate  act  of  his  will  in 
the  various  movements  of  his  fingers ;  and  he  can  gradually  accel- 
erate the  rate  of  his  execution  till  he  is  unable  to  recollect  these 
acts.  Now,  in  this  instance,  one  of  two  sui)positions  must  be  made. 
The  one  is,  that  the  operations  in  the  two  cases  are  carried  on  pre- 
cisely in  the  same  manner,  and  difter  only  in  the  degree  of  rapidity ; 
and  that  when  this  ra|)idity  exceeds  a  certain  rate,  the  acts  of  the 
will  are  too  momentary  to  leave  any  impression  on  the  memory. 
The  other  is,  that  when  the  rapidity  exceeds  a  certain  rate,  the  ope- 
ration is  taken  entirely  out  of  our  hands,  and  is  carried  on  by  some 
unknown  power,  of  the  nature  of  which  we  are  as  ignorant  as  of  the 
cause  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  or  of  the  motion  of  the  intes- 
tines. The  last  supposition  seems  to  me  to  be  somewliat  similar  to 
that  of  a  man  who  should  maintain,  that  although  a  l)ody  projected 
with  a  moderate  velocity  is  seen  to  pass  through  all  the  intermediate 
spaces  in  moving  from  one  j^lace  to  another,  yet  we  are  not  entitled 
to  conclude  that  this  happens  when  the  body  moves  so  quickly  as  to 
become  invisible  to  the  eye.  The  former  supposition  is  su])ported 
by  the  analogy  of  many  other  facts  in  our  constitution.  Of  some 
of  these  I  have  already  taken  notice,  and  it  would  be  easy  to  add  to 
the  number.  An  expert  accountant,  for  example,  can  sum  up^  almost 
with  a  single  glance  of  his  eye,  a  long  column  of  figures.  He  can 
tell  the  sum,  with  unerring  certainty,  while,  at  the  same  time,  he  is 
unable  to  recollect  any  one  of  the  figures  of  which  that  sum  is  com- 
posed ;  and  yet  nobody  doubts  that  each  of  these  figures  has  passed 

1  Vol.  i.  pp.  108,109.      [Observativnx  on  Man,  piop.  xxi.  —  En.l 


Lect.  XVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  249 

through  his  mind,  or  supposes  that  when  tlie  rapidity  of  the  process 
becomes  so  great  that  he  is  unable  to  recollect  the  various  steps  of 
it,  he  obtains  the  result  by  a  sort  of  inspiration.  This  last  sup- 
position would  be  perfectly  analogous  to  Dr.  Hartley's  doctrine 
concerning  the  nature  of  our  habitual  exertions. 

"The  only  plausible  objection  which,  I  think,  can  be  offered  to  the 
])rinciples  I  have  endeavored  to  establish  on  this  subject,  is  founded 
on  the  astonishing  and  almost  incredible  rapidity  they  necessarily 
suppose  in  our  intellectual  oj)crations.  AVhen  a  person,  for  example, 
reads  aloud,  there  must,  according  to  this  doctrine,  be  a  separate 
volition  preceding  the  articulation  of  every  letter ;  and  it  has  been 
found  by  actual  trial,  that  it  is  possible  to  pronounce  about  two 
thousand  letters  in  a  minute.  Is  it  reasonable  to  suppose  that  the 
mind  is  capable  of  so  many  different  acts,  in  an  interval  of  time  so 
very  inconsiderable? 

"  With  respect  to  this  objection,  it  may  be  observed,  in  the  first 
jdace,  that  all  arguments  against  the  foregoing  doctrine  with  respect 
to  our  habitual  exertions,  in  so  far  as  they  are  founded  on  the  incon- 
ceivable raj)idity  which  they  sui)pose  in  our  intellectual  operations, 
aj)ply  equally  to  the  common  doctrine  concerning  our  perception  of 
distance  by  the  eye.  But  this  is  not  all.  'I'o  what  does  the  sup- 
position amount  Avhich  is  considered  as  so  incredible  ?  Oidy  to  this, 
that  the  mind  is  so  formed  as  to  be  able  to  carry  on  certain  intellec- 
tual processes  in  intervals  of  time  too  sliort  to  be  estimated  by  our 
faculties  ;  a  supposition  which,  so  far  from  being  extravagant,  is  sun- 
ported  by  the  analogy  of  many  of  our  most  certain  conclusions  in 
natural  j)hilosophy.  The  discoveries  made  by  the  microscope  have 
laid  open  to  our  senses  a  world  (•!'  wonders,  the  existence  of  which 
hardly  any  man  would  have  admitted  ujton  inferior  evidence  ;  an<l 
have  gradually  prepared  tlie  w;iy  for  lliosc  )»hysical  speculations 
which  e\]»]ain  some  of  the  most  extrr.ordinai-y  phaMiomena  of  nature 
by  means  of  modifications  of  matter  fin-  loo  sui)tile  for  the -examin- 
ation of  our  organs.  Why,  then,  sliould  it  be  considered  as  unjihil- 
osophical,  after  having  demonstrated  the  existence  of  various  intel- 
lectual ])rocesses  which  escape  our  attention  in  consequence  of  their 
rapidity,  to  carry  the  supposition  a  little  fin-ther,  in  order  to  bring 
under  the  known  laws  of  the  human  constitution  a  class  of  mental 
operations  which  must  otherwise'  remain  j)ertl'ctly  inexplicable 'f 
Surely  oui'  idi-as  of  time  are  niciclv  relative,  as  well  as  oui'  ideas  of 
extension  ;  noi  is  tliere  any  good  reason  for  doubting  that,  if  our 
powers  of  attention  and  memory  were  more  perfect  than  tliey  are, 
so  as  to  gi\  ('  us  the  same  advantage  in  examining  rapiil  events,  wliich 
the  niicn)scope  gives  for  examining   minute  jtortions  of  extension, 

32 


250  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XVIIl. 

they  would  enlarge  our  views  with  respect  to  the  intellectual  world, 

no  less  than  that  instrument  has  with  respect  to  the  material."  * 

This  doctrine  of  Mr.  Stewart,  —  that  our  acts  of  loiowledge  are 

made  up  of  an  infinite  number  of  acts  of  atten- 

Thf  principle  of  stew-       tiou,  that  is,   of  various   acts   of  concentrated 

arts   tiieory  already       oonsciousness,  there  being  required  a  separate 

«hown  to  involve  con-  .  o  i  i 

tradictions.  ^^'*  ^f  attention  for  every  minimum  possible  of 

knowledge, —  I    have    already    shown    yon,   by 

various  examples,  to  involve  contradictions.     In  the  present  instance, 

its  admission  would  constrain  our  assent  to  the 

But  here    specially  .  .  i      •  rn   i       ^i  j^ 

^     ^  ^       ^       most  monstrous  conchxsions.     1  ake  the  case  of 

refuted 

a  person  reading.  Now,  all  of  you  must  have 
experienced,  if  ever  under  the  necessity  of  reading  aloud,  that,  if  the 
matter  be  uninteresting,  your  thoughts,  while  you  are  going  on  in 
the  performance  of  your  task,  are  wholly  abstracted  from  the  book 
and  its  subject,  and  you  are  perliaps  deeply  occujned  in  a  train  of 
serious  meditat'on.  Here  tlie  process  of  reading  is  performed  with- 
out interruption,  and  with  the  most  punctual  accuracy  ;  and,  at  the 
same  time,  the  process  of  meditation  is  carried  on  without  distrac- 
tion or  fatigue.  Now  tliis,  on  Mr.  Stewart's  doctrine,  would  seem 
impossible ;  for  what  does  his  theory  suppose  ?  It  supposes  that 
separate  acts  of  concentrated  consciousness  or  attention,  ai-e  bestowed 
on  each  least  movement  in  either  process.  But  be  the  velocity  of 
the  mental  operations  what  it  may,  it  is  impossible  to  conceive  how 
transitions  between  such  contrary  operations  could  be  kept  up  for  a 
continuance  without  fatigue  and  distraction,  even  if  we  tlirow  out 
of  account  the  f  u-t  that  the  acts  of  attention  to  be  effectual  must  be 
simultaneous,  wliich  on  Mr.  Stewart's  theory  is  not  alloAved, 

We  could  easily  give  examjjles  of  far  more  complex  oj^erations; 
but  this,  with  wliat  lias  lieeii  previously  said,  I  deem  sufficient  to 
show,  that  we  must  either  resort  to  the  first  theory,  Avhich,  as  noth- 
ing but  the  assumption  of  an  occult  and  incomprehensible  principle, 
in  fact  exjjlains  nothing,  or  adopt  the  theory  that  there  are  acts  of 
mind  so  rapid  and  minute  as  to  elude  the  ken  of  consciousness. 
I  shall  now  say  something  of  the  history  of  this  opinion.     It  is  a 

curious  fact  that  Locke,  in  the  passage  I  read  to 

History  of  the  doc-         ,       .    „    i»  i  j.^   't,    ^        xi  •  •    • 

•^  .  vou  a  TCAv  davs  atjo,  attributes  this  oianion  to 

trine    ot   unconscious         '  .        '  ^  .  . 

mcnia)  inoiiif;cations.       the  Cartesians,  and  he  thinks  it  was  employed 

by  them  to  suytport  their  doctrine  of  the  cease- 
less activity  of  mind.-     In  this,  as  in  many  other  points  of  the  Car- 

1  Elements,  vol.  i.  chap.  ii. ;   Works,  vol.  ii.       c.  1,  §  18,  19.     The  Cartesians  are  intended 
p.  127 — 131.  though  not  expressly  mentioned.  — Ed 

'2  Jisxay  on  Human    Untlfystundin^,  book  ii. 


Lect.  XVni.  METAPHYSICS.  251 

tesian  philosophy,  he  is,  however,  wholly  wrong.  On  the  contrary, 
the  Cartesians  made  consciousness  the  essence  of  thought ;  ^  and 
their  assertion  that  the  mind  always  thinks  is,  in  their  language, 
precisely  tantamount  to  the  assertion  that  the  mind  is  always  con- 
scious. 

But  what  was  not  maintained  by  the  Cartesians,  and   even  in 
opposition  to  their  doctrine,  was  advanced  by 

Leibnitz  the  first  to         t     -u    -^    •>      rn       xu-  ^        i  -i  i  i     i 

,  .     ,.  ,      .  Leibnitz.-      lo  this    great    philosoi)n(!r    belongs 

proclaim  this  doctrine.  _  .    .  ... 

the  honor  of  having  originated  this  opinion,  and 
of  having  supplied  some  of  the  strongest  arguments  in  its  support. 
Pie  was,  however,  unfortunate  in  the  tenns  which  he  employed  to 
propound  his  doctrine.  The  latent  modifications,  —  the  uncon- 
scious activities   of  mind,  he   denominated   obscure  ideas,  obscure 

representations, perceptions  icithout  apperception 

Unfortunate  in  tlie  .  .  .77  .•  .  t 

or  consciousness,  insensible  perceptions,  etc.     In 

terms  he  employed  to  _  . 

designate  it  this  he  violated  the  universal  usage  of  language. 

For  perception,  and  idea,  and  representation,  all 
proj)er]y  involve  the  notion  of  consciousness,  —  it  being,  in  fact, 
contradictory  to  speak  of  a  representation  not  really  represented  — 
a  j»erception  not  really  perceive<l  —  an  actual  idea  of  whose  pres- 
ence we  are  not  aware. 

The  close  affinity  of  mental  modifications  with  perceptions,  ideas, 

representations,  and  the    consequent  cominuta- 

Fate  of  the  doctrine         ^j^^^  ^^  ^^^^^    ^^  ^^^^^   ^^^^^  Ulldoubtedlv  the 

in   France    and    Brit-  t     •       •      • 

„j„  reasons  Avhy  the  Leibnitzian   doctrine    «'as   not 

more  generally  adopted,  and  why,  in  France  and 
ill  liritain,  succeeding  philosoidiers  have  almost  admitted  as  a  self- 
evi<lent  truth  that  there  can  be  no  modification  of  mind,  devoid  of 
consciousness.     As  to  any  refutation  of  the  Leibnit/.ian  doctrine,  T 

know  of  none.     Condillac  is,  indeed,  the  onlv 

Condillac.  ,  •>  ^^ 

psychologist  who  can  be  said  to  hiive  formally 
projtosed  the  question.  lie,  like  Mr.  Stewart,  atti-mpts  to  cxplaiu 
why  it  can  be  supposed  that  the  mind  has  moditic.itioiis  of  w  liich 
we  are  not  conscious,  by  nssertiiig  that  we  are  in  tinith  conscious  of 
the  modification,  but    tli.it    it   is  immedintely  forgotten."      In  (4er- 

iiKiiiv,  the  doitnu'  of  Leibnitz  \\  .-is  almost  uni- 

Th..       doctrine       of  vei-.."lll\    :idol.tc-d.        I    ,nu    Hot    aW.lIV    of  M   philoSO- 

Leibnitz,    adojilcd     in  '  1  i  •       1  1 

liermany.  P^'^"''    "^'    ''"'     '''''^^     ""'''        ■       "'"""     ''     ''''^     \WQ\\ 

ivjefted.  \\\  Fr.ince,  it  h.a.s,  I  sre,  late-ly  been 
liro;iched  by  M.  de  ('.irdMilbic*  as  .i  tlieory  of  his  own,  .-md  this,  liis 

1  r»e8carte«,  Prmcipia,  pt.  i.  §  !».  —  Kl>.  3  Origine  dfx  Connoissancea  Huniaituis,  sect 

'■i  Souvfaux  Esaais^  ii.  7.     Moitnf/ol(H;i'.  ^  41.       ii.  c.  1,  ^  4 — 13.  —  Ku. 
Prtnrijicf.  </<  la  Naiur  ft  >fe  la  Grare,  ^  i.  —  Kn.  *  Eliiilrs  Elrm^nmirrx  ilf  Philosophif,  t.  ii.  pp 

1.38. 139. 


252 


METAPHYSICS. 


Lect.  XVIII. 


originality,  is  marvellously  admitted  by  authors  like  M.  Damirun, 

De  Cardaiiiac.  whom  we  might  reasonably  expect  to  have  been 

better  informed.       It   is  hardlv  worth    addins: 

that  as  the  doctrine  is  not  new,  so  nothing  new  has  been  contrib- 
uted to  its  illustration.  To  British  psycholo- 
gists, the  opinion  would    hardly  seem  to  have 

been  known.     By  none,  certainly,  is  it  seriously  considered.^ 


Damiron. 


1  In  tlie  second  edition  of  Damiron's  Psi/- 
chologie,  vol.  i.  p.  188,  Leibnitz  is  expressly 
cited.  In  theses*  edition,  however,  though 
the  doctrine  of  latency  is  stated,  (t.  i.  p.  190), 
there  is  no  reference  to  Leibnitz.  —  Ed. 

2  Qualified  exception;  Karnes's  Swaj/.?  on 
the  principles  of  Morality  and  Natural  Religion, 
(3d  edit.),  p.  289,  to  end,  Ess.  iv.,  on  Matter 
and  Spirit.  [With  Kames  compare  Cams, 
I'sycholosie,  ii.  p.  185,  (edit.  1808).  Tucker, 
Light  of  Nature,  c.  10,  §  4.  Tralles,  De  Im- 
tttortalitate  Anima'.,\i.  2Q,etseq.  On  the  general 
.subject  of  acts  of  mind  beyond  the  sphere  of 
consciousness,  compare  Kant,  Anthropologte, 


§  5.  Keinhold,  Theorie  des  Menschlichen  Erk- 
enntnissverniogens  und  Metaphysik,  i.  p.  279, 
et  seq.  Fries,  Anthropologic,  i.  p.  77,  (edit. 
1820).  Scliulze,  Philnsopliische  Wissenschaften, 
i.  p.  16,  17.  H.  .Schmid,  Versuch  einer  Meta- 
physik  der  inneren  Natur,  pp.  23,  232  et  seq. 
Damiron,  Cours  de  Fhilosophie,  i.  p.  190,  (edit. 
18.34),  Maass,  Einbildungskraft,  §  24,  p.  65  et 
seq.,  (edit.  1797).  Sulzer,  Vermischte  Schriften, 
i.  pp.  99,  109,  (edit.  1808),  Denzinger,  Jnstitu- 
tiones  Logics,  §  260,  i.  p.  226,  (edit.  1824).  Ben- 
eke,  Lehrbuch  der  Psychologic,  §  96  et  seq.,  p.  72^ 
(edit.  1833).  Plainer,  PhUosophische  Aphcru- 
men,  i.  p.  70.] 


LECTURE    XIX. 

CONSCIOUSNESS,  —  GENERAI.    PHiENOMENA.  — DTFF1CULTIJ:S 
AND   FACILITIES    OF    PSYCHOLOGICAL    STUDY. 

In  our  last  Lecture  we  were  occupied  wi^h  the  last  and  principal 
.^  ,  ,.  part  of  the  question,  Are  there  mental  acjencies 

Keaapitulation.  ^  -^  _  ® 

beyond  the  sphere  of  Consciousness?  —  in  other 
words,  Are  there  modifications  of  mind  unknown  in  tliemselves, 
but  the  existence  of  which  we  must  admit,  as  the  necessary  causes 
of  known  effects?  In  dealing  Avith  this  question,  I  showed,  first 
of  all,  that  there  is  indisputable  evidence  for  the  t^eneral  fact,  that 
even  extensive  systems  of  knowledge  may,  in  our  ordinary  state, 
lie  latent  in  the  mind,  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness  and  will ; 
but  which,  in  certain  extraordinary  states  of  organism,  may  again 
come  forward  into  light,  and  even  engross  the  mind  to  the  exclu- 
sion of  its  everyday  possessions.  The  establishment  of  the  fact, 
that  there  are  in  the  mind  latent  capacities,  latent  riches,  which 
may  occasionally  exert  a  ])owerful  and  obtrusive  agency,  prepared 
us  for  the  question,  Are  there,  in  ordinary,  latent  modifications  ot 

mind  —  agencies  unknown   themselves  as  jtlue- 

Are  tiiorcj  in  ordi-       uomcua,  but  sccrctly  concurring  to  the  produc- 

nary,  latent  modirtc;.-       ^j^,^   ^f  manifest  cffects  ?     This  i)roblem,  I  en- 

tions  of  mind,  concur-  ' 

rin-  to  tho  production        deavored  to  show  you,  must  be  answered  in  the 
of  manifest  effects?  affirmative.     I   took   for  the   medium   of  proof 

various  operations  of  mind,  analyzed  these,  and 
found  as  a  residuum  a  certain  constituent  beyond   the  sj)!iere  of 
consciousness,   and    the   reality  of  which  cannot   be  disallowed,   as 
necessary  for  the  realization  of  the  .illowed  effect.     My  first  exam- 
ples  were  taken   from   the   faculty  of  External 

I'roof  from  tlie  fac-  t)  ^-  it  i  •  i    i-         ^         11   ^i 

A  t'rceiitum.     1  showed  vou,  \n  relation  to  all  the 

nlty  of  External  Per-  '  .       •  . 

yeption.  senses,    that     there    is    an    ultimate   percejitible 

minimum  ;  that  is,  that  there  is  no  conscious- 
ness, no  perception  of  the  modification  determined  by  its  object  in 
any  sense,  unless  that   object  determines  in  the   sense  a   certain 


254  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XIX. 

quantum  of  excitement.  Now,  this  quantum,  though  the  minimum 
that  can  be  consciously  perceived,  is  still  a  whole  composed  even  of 
an  infinity  of  lesser  parts.  Conceiving  it,  however,  only  divided 
into  two,  each  of  these  halves  is  unperceived  —  neither  is  an  object 
of  consciousness ;  the  whole  is  a  percept  made  up  of  the  unperceived 
halves.  The  halves  must,  however,  have  each  produced  its  effect 
towai-ds  the  perception  of  the  Avhole ;  and,  therefore,  the  smallest 
modification  of  which  consciousness  can  take  account,  necessarily 
supposes,  as  its  constituents,  smaller  modifications,  real,  but  elud- 
ing the  ken  of  consciousness.  Could  we  magnify  the  discerning 
power  of  consciousness,  as  we  can  magnify  the  power  of  vision  by 
the  microscope,  we  might  enable  consciousness  to  extend  its  cog- 
nizance to  modifications  twice,  ten  times,  ten  thousand  times  less, 
than  it  is  now  competent  to  a])prehend ;  but  still  there  must  be 
some  limit.  -Vnd  as  every  mental  modification  is  a  quantity,  and 
as  no  quantity  can  be  conceived  not  divisible  ad  infinitum^  we  must, 
even  on  this  hypothesis,  allow  (unless  we  assert  tliat  the  ken  of 
consciousness  is  also  infinite)  that  there  are  modifications  of  mind 
unknown  in  themselves,  but  the  necessary  coiifticients  of  known 
results.  On  the  ground  of  perception,  it  is  thus  demonstratively 
proved  that  latent  agencies  —  modifications  of  which  we  are  uncon- 
scious—  must  be  admitted  as  a  groundwork  of  the  Phainomenology 
of  Mind. 

The  fact  of  the  existence  of  such  latent  agencies  being  proved 

in  reference  to  one  faculty,  the  presumption  is 

The  fact  of  the  ex-       established  that  they  exert  an  influence  in  all. 

istence  of  latent  agen-       ^^d  this  presumption  holds,  even  if,  in  regard 

dcu  0 ,  a       ^^  some  others,  we  should  be  unable  to  demon- 
presumption  that  they  ' 
exert  an  influence  in       stratc,  in  SO  direct  aud  exclusive  a  manner,  the 

all.  absolute  necessity  of  their  admission.     This  is 

Association  of  Ideas.       gho^n  j^  regard"  to  the  Association  of  Ideas. 

The  laws  of  Associa-  i    •        i  •      t  i  i  i 

tion    sometimes    ap-       i"  oi'^^^i"  to  cxplam  this,  I  Stated  to  you  that  the 
parentiy  violated.  laws,  wliich  govem  the  train  or  consecution  of 

thought,  are  sometimes  apparently  violated;  and 
that  philosopliers  are  perforce  obliged,  in  order  to  ex})lain  the  seem- 
ing anomaly,  to  interpolate,  hypothetically,  between  the  ostensibly 
suggesting  and  the  ostensibly  suggested  thought,  certain -connect- 
ing links  of  which  we  have  no  knowledge.  Now,  the  necessity  of 
such  interpolation  being  admitted,  as  admitted  it  must  be,  the 
question  arises,  How  have  these'  connecting  thoughts,  the  reality 
of  which  is  supposed,  escaped  our  cognizance  ?  In  explanation  of 
this,  there  can  possibly  be- only  two  theories.  It  may  be  said,  in 
the  first  place,  that  these  intermediate  ideas  did  rise  into  conscious- 


Lect.  XIX.  METAPHYSICS.  255 

ness,  operated  their  suggestion,  and  were  then  instantaneously  for- 
gotten. It  may  be  said,  in  the  second  place,  that  these  interme- 
diate ideas  never  did  rise  into  consciousness,  but,  remaining  latent 
themselves,  still  served  to  awaken  into  consciousness  the  thought, 
and  thus  explain  its  suggestion. 

The  former  of  these  theories,  which  is  the  only  one  whose  possi- 
bility is  contemplated  in  this  country,  I  endeavored  to  show  you 
ought  not  to  be  admitted,  being  obnoxious  to  the  most  insur- 
mountable objections.  »  It  violates  the  Avhole  analogy  of  conscious- 
ness; and  must  at  last  found  upon  a  reason  which  would  identify 
it  with  the  second  theory.  At  the  same  time  it  violates  the  law 
of  philosophizing,  called  the  hiw  of  Parcimony,  Avhich  prescribes 
that  a  greater  number  of  causes  are  not  to  be  assumed  than  are 
necessary  to  explain  the  pha?nomena.     Now,  in   the  present  case, 

if  the  existence  of  unconscious  niodiiications, — 
The  anomaly  solved       of  latent  agencies,    be   demonstratively    proved 

by  the  doctrine  of  la-         ,  ,  ,    ^  ,.  .  i  •    i      ^i 

tent  agencies.  ^Y  ^^^^  phajuouiena    of    perception,   whu-Ii   they 

alone  are  competent  to  explain,  why  postulate 
a  second  unknown  cause  to  account  for  the  pha^nomena  of  asso- 
ciation, when  these  can  be  better  explained  by  the  one  cause,  which 
the  phsenomena  of  ])erception  compel  us  to  admit? 

The  fact  of  latent  agencies  being  once  established,  and  shown  to 
be  api)licable,  as  a  ])rincii)le  of  ])sychological  solution,  I  showed 
you,  by  other  examples,  that  it  enables  us  to  account,  in  an  easy 
and   satisfactory  manner,  for  some    of  the  most   perplexing   jdue- 

nomena   of  mind.     In  particular,  I  did  this  by 

The  same  principle       reference  to  our  Acipiired  Dexterities  and  Ilab- 

expiains   the    opera-       j^g      j,^   j],,.^^.   ,l,^,    consecutiou    of  the   various 

t ions  of  our  Acquired  .  .  ,  •  t      i      ,    •.    •        n  i 

Dexterities  and  iiab-  opemtious  IS  extremely  raj.id;  but  it  is  allowed 
its.  on  all  hands,  that,  though  we  are  conscious  of 

the  series  of  o])erations,  —  that  is,  of  the  mental 
state  which  they  conjunctly  constitute, —  of  the  .several  operations 
themselves  as  acts  of  volition  we  are  wholly  incognizant.  Now, 
this  incognizance  may  be  e.\i)lained,  as  I  stated  to  you,  on  tliree 
possible  hypotheses.  In  the  first  ]>lace,  we  may  say  that  the  whole 
process  is  effected  Avithout  either  volition,  or  even  any  action  of 
the  thinking  ])rincii)le,  it  being  merely  automatic  or  mechanical. 
The  incognizance  to  be  ex])Liined  is  thus  involved  in  this  hy])othe- 
sis.  In  the  second  place,  it  may  be  said  that  each  imlividual  act 
of  which  the  process  is  made  up,  is  not  only  ;in  act  of  mental 
agency,  but  a  conscious  act  of  volition ;  but  that,  there  being  no 
memory  of  these  acts,  they,  consequently,  are  unknown  to  us  when 
past.     In  the  third  place,  it  may  be  said  that  each  individual  act 


256  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XIX 

of  the  process  is  an  act  of  mental  agency,  but  not  of  consciousness 

and  separate  volition.  The  reason  of  incog- 
^  The  mechanical  the-       ^izance  is  thus  apparent.     The  first  opinion  is 

iinphilosophical,  because,  in  the  first  place,  it 
assumes  an  occult,  an  incomprehensible  principle,  to  enable  us  to 
comprehend  the  effect.  In  the  second  place,  admitting  the  agency 
of  the  mind  in  accomplisliing  the  series  of  movements  before  the 
habit  or  dexterity  is  formed,  it  afterwards  takes  it  out  of  the  hands 
of  the  mind,  in  order  to  bestow  it  upon*  another  agent.  This 
hypothesis  thus  violates  the  two  great  laws  of  philosophizing, — 
to  assume  no  occult  principle  without  necessity,  —  to  assume  no 
second  principle  without  necessity.  Tliis  doctrine  was  held  by 
Reid,  Hartley,  and  others. 

The  second  hypothesis  which   Mr.  Stewart  adopts,  is  at   oiu'v 

comjilex  and  contradictory.     It  supposes  a  con- 

j  he  theory  of  Con-       sciousness  and  no  memory.     In  the  first  place, 

sciousness         without  ......  ,  ii«i  • 

Memory.  ^^^  ^"^^  ^^  ^^  altogether  hypothetical,  —  it  cannot 

advance  a  shadow  of  proof  in  support  of  the 
fiiet  which  it  assumes,  that  an  act  of  consciousness  does  or  can  take 
place  without  any,  the  least,  continuance  in  memory.  In  the 
second  place,  tliis  assumption  is  disproved  by  the  whole  analogy 

of  our  intellectual  nature.     It  is  a  law  of  mind. 
Consciousness  and       ^-^at  the  intensity  of  the  present  consciousness 

Memory  in  the  direct  .  ...  f     ^        e- 

ratio  of  eacii  otiier  determines  the  vivacity  oi  the  luture  memoiy. 

Memory  and  consciousness  are  thus  in  the  direct 
ratio  of  each  other.  On  the  one  hand,  looking  from  cause  to  effect, 
. —  vivid  consciousness,  long  memory ;  faint  consciousness,  short 
memory ;  no  consciousness,  no  memory  :  and,  on  the  other,  looking 
from  effect  to  cause,  —  long  memory,  vivid  consciousness;  short 
memory,  faint  consciousness  ;  no  memory,  no  consciousness.  Thus, 
the  hypothesis  which  postulates  consciousness  without  memory, 
violates  the  fundamental  laws  of  our  intellectual  being.  But,  in 
the  third  ])hice,  this  hy2)othesis  is  not  only  a  psychological  sole- 
cism,—  it  is,  likewise,  a  psychological  pleonasm;  it  is  at  once  ille- 
gitimate and  superfluous!  As  we  must  admit,  from  the  analogy  of 
perception,  that  efficient  modifications  may  exist  without  any  con- 
sciousness of  their  existence,  and  as  this  admission  affords  a  solu- 
tion of  the  present  problem,  the  hypothesis  in  question  here  again 
violates  the  law  of  parcimony,  by  assuming  without  necessity  a 
phirality  of  principles  to  acQount  for  what  one  more  easily  suffices. 
The  third  hypothesis,  then, — that  which  employs  the  single  prin- 
ciple of  latent  agencies  to  account  for  so  numerous  a  class  of 
mental  phaenomena,  —  how  does  it  explain  the  phenomenon  under 


Lect.  XIX.  METAPHYSICS.  257 

consideration  ?     Notliing  can  be  more  simple  and  analogical  than 

its  solution.    As,  to  take  an  example  from  vis- 

The  theory  of  laten-       ion,  —  in  the  external  perception  of  a  station- 

cy  shown  to  explain  ^^-^^^^^  .^  Certain  spacc,  an  expanse  of  sur- 

the  phicnomeiia  in  ac-         ^  .  *■ 

cordance  with    anal-       iii^cG,  IS  ncccssary  to  the  minimum  visibile ;  in 
ogy.  other  words,  an  object  of  sight  cannot  come  into 

consciousness  unless  it  be  of  a  certain  size ;  in 
like  manner,  in  the  internal  perception  of  a  series  of  mental  opera- 
tions, a  certain  time,  acertain  duration,  is  necessary  for  the  smallest 
section  of  continuous  energy  to  which  consciousness  is  competent. 
Some  minimum  of  time  must  l)e  admitted  as  the  condition  of  con- 
sciousness; and  as  time  is  divisible  ad  infinitum^  whatever  mini- 
mum be  taken,  there  must  be  admitted  to  be,  beyond  the  cognizance 
of  consciousness,  intervals  of  time,  in  which,  if  mental  agencies  be 
])erformed,  these  will  be  latent  to  consciousness.  If  we  suppose 
that  the  minimum  of  time  to  which  consciousness  can  descend,  be 
an  interval  called  six,  and  that  six  different  movements  be  per- 
formed in  this  interval,  these,  it  is  evident,  will  appear  to  conscious- 
ness as  a  sini])le  indivisible  point  of  modified  time ;  precisely  as 
the  minimum  visibile  appears  as  an  indivisible  point  of  modified 
sjKice.  And,  as  in  the  extended  parts  of  the  minimum  visibile^ 
each  must  determine  a  certain  modification  on  the  percipient  sub- 
ject, seeing  that  the  effect  of  the  whole  is  only  the  conjoined  effect 
of  its  parts,  in  like  manner,  the  protended  parts  of  each  conscious 
instant, —  of  each  distinguishable  minimum  of  time,  —  though  them- 
selves beyond  the  ken  of  consciousness,  must  contribute  to  give  the 
character  to  the  Avhole  mental  state  which  that  instant,  that  mini- 
mum, comj)rises.  This  being  understood,  it  is  easy  to  see  how  we 
lose  the  consciousness  of  the  several  acts,  in  the  rapid  succession 
of  many  of  our  habits  and  dexterities.  At  first,  and  before  the 
liabit  is  acquired,  every  act  is  slow,  and  we  are  conscious  of  the 
effort  of  deliberation,  choice,  and  volition  ;  by  degrees  the  mind 
proceeds  with  less  vacillation  and  uncertainty;  at  length  the  acts 
become  secure  and  precise:  in  proportion  as  this  takes  place,  the 
velocity  of  the  procedure  is  increased,  and  as  this  acceleration  rises, 
the  individual  acts  drop  one  by  one  from  consciousness,  as  we  lose 
the  leaves  in  retiring  further  and  further  from  the  tree ;  and,  at  last, 
we  are  only  aware  of  the  general  state  which  results  from  these 
unconscious  operations,  as  we  can  at  last  only  perceive  the  green- 
ness which  results  from  tlie  unperceived  leaves. 

I  have  thus  endeavored  to  recapitulate  and  vary  the  illustration 
of  this  important  principle.  At  present,  I  can  only  attempt  to 
offer  you  such   evidence   of  the  fact  as  lies    close  to  the  surface. 

33 


258  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XIX, 

When  we  come  to  the  discussion  of  the  special  faculties,  you  will 
find  that  this  principle  affords  an  explanation  of  many  intefesting 
phenomena,  and  from  them  receives  confirmation  in  return. 

Before  terminating  the  consideration  of  the  general  phoenomena 

of  consciousness,  there  are  Three  Princi}>al  Facts 

Three    Principal       which  it  would  be  improper  altogether  to  pass 

Facts  to  be  noticed  in       ^^^^^,  ^i^h^ut  notice,  but  the  full  discussiou  of 

connection    with    the  i  .   i      t  />  i  r-     ^ 

general    pha^nomena       which   I   reserve   for   that   part   of  the    course 
of  consciousness.  which  is  conversaut  Avith  Metaphysics  Proper, 

and  when  we  come  to  establish  upon  their 
foundation  our  conclusions  in  regard  to  the  Immateriality  and 
Immortality  of  Mind;  —  I  mean  the  fact  of  our  Mental  Existence 
or  Substantiality,  the  fact  of  our  jVIental  Unity  or  Individuality^ 
and  the  fact  of  our  Mental  Identity  or  Personality.  In  regard  to 
these  three  fixcts,  I  shall,  at  present,  only  attempt  to  give  you  a 
very  summary  view  of  what  place  they  naturally  occupy  in  our 
psychological  system. 

The    first  of  these  —  the    fact   of  our   own   Existence — I    have 

already  incidentally  touched  on,  in   giving  you 

1.  Self-Existence.  •  /.     ,  •  -i  i  -,         •  -i' ■    ■, 

a  view  oi  the  Aarious  possible  modes  m  whifh 
the  fact  of  the  Duality  of  Consciousness  may  be  conditionally 
accepted. 

The  various  modifications  of  which  the  thinking  subject,  Ego, 
is  conscious,  are  accompanied  with  the  feeling,  or  intuition,  or 
belief,  —  or  by  whatever  name  the  conviction  may  be  called,  —  that 
I,  the  thinking  subject,  exist.  This  feeling  has  been  called  by  phi- 
losophers the  apperception  or  consciousness  of  our  own  existence; 
but,  as  it  is  a  simple  and  ultimate  fJict  of  consciousness,  though  it 
be  clearly  given,  it  cannot  be  defined  or  desci'ibed.  And  for  the 
same  reason  that  it  cannot  be  defined,  it  cannot  be  deduced  or 

demonstrated  ;  and  the  apparent  enthymeme  of 

Descartes      ogito       Descai'tcs, —  Cooito  croo  suni, — if  really  intended 

ergo  Slim.  .       '  .  .  , 

for  an  inference,  —  if  really  intended  to  be  more 
than  a  simple  enunciation  of  the  proposition,  that  the  fact  of  our 
existence  is  given  in  the  fact  of  our  consciousness,  is  either  tauto- 
logical, or  false.  Tautological,  because  nothing  is  contained  in  the 
conclusion  which  was  not  explicitly  given  in  the  premise,  —  the 
premise,  Cogito,  I  think.,  being  only  a  grammatical  equation  of  Ego 
sum  cogitans,  I  am  or  exist.,  thinking.  False,  inasmuch  as  there 
would,  in  the  first  place,  be  postulated  the  reality  of  thought  as  a 
quality  or  modification,  and  then,  from  the  fact  of  this  modification, 
inferred  the  fact  of  existence,  and   of  the  existence   of  a  subject  j 


Lect.  XIX.  METAPHYSICS.  259 

whereas  it  is  self-evident,  that  in  the  very  possibility  of  a  quality 
or  modification,  is  suj>posed  the  reality  of  existence,  and  of  an 
existing  subject.  Philosophers,  in  general,  among  Avhom  may  be 
particularly  mentioned  Locke  and  Leibnitz,  have  accordingly  found 
the  evidence  in  a  clear  and  immediate  belief  in  the  simple  datum 
of  consciousness ;  and  that  this  was  likewise  the  opinion  of  Des- 
cartes himself^  it  Avould  not  be  difficult  to  show.^ 

The  second  fact  —  our  Menial  Unity  or  Individuality  —  is  given 
with  eciual  evidence  as  the  first.     As  clearly  as 

2.  Mental  Uiiitv.  ^  *         .  ^        .     .  ,        ,  ^  "^ 

1  am  conscious  oi  existing,  so  clearly  am  I  con- 
scious at  every  moment  of  my  existence,  (and  never  more  so  than 
when  the  most  heterogeneous  mental  modifications  are  in  a  state 
of  rapid  succession,)  that  the  conscious  Ego  is  not  itself  a  mere 
modification,  nor  a  series  of  modifications  of  any  other  subject, 
but  that  it  is  itself  something  different  from  all  its  modifications, 
and  a  self-subsistent  entity.     This  feeling,  belief,  datum,  or  fact  of 

our  mental  individuality  or  iiiiity,  is   not  more 
The  truti,  of  the  fes-       cai)able  of  explanation  than  the  feeling  or  fact 

timony    of  conscious-  „  .,  ■,■    i      •••,-,       ■, 

ness  to  our  mental  ^^  «^"'  '^^istence,  which  it  m.lced  always  in- 
uuity,  doubted.  volves.      The   fact    of  the    deliverance   of  con- 

sciousness to  our  mental  unity  has,  of  course, 
never  boon   doubted ;  but  philosophers  have  been  found  to  doubt 

its  truth.      According  to  Hunie,^  our  thinking 
Ego  is  nothing  but  a  bundle  of  individual  im- 
pressions and  ideas,  out   of  whose   union  in   the   imagination,   the 
notion  of  a  whole,  as  of  a  subject  of  that  which  is  folt  and  thouoht, 

is  formed.     According  to   Kant,^  it  cannot  be 

Kant.  ,        ^  .        ,        ,       , 

properly  determined  Av)iethor  Ave  exist  as  sub- 
stance or  as  accident,  because  the  datum  of  individuality  is  a  con- 
dition of  the  possibility  of  our  having  thoughts  and  feelings:  in 
other  Avords,  of  the  possibility  of  consciousness;  and,  therefore, 
although  consciousness  gives  —  cannot  but  give  —  the  phaenomenon 
of  individuality,  it  does  not  folloAV  that  this  phaMiomenon  may  not 
be  only  a  necessary  illusion.  An  articulate  refutation  of  these 
opinions  I  cannot  attempt  at  ]>resent,  bul  their  icfutation  is,  in  fact, 
iin-olved  in  their  statement.  Li  nganl  to  1 1  nine,  his  skeptical  con- 
clusion is  oidy  an  inference  from  the  premises  of  the  dogmatical 
philosopheis,  a\  ho  founded  their  systems  on  a  violation  or  distortion 

1  That  Descartes  did  not  intend  toprovethe  wicnfj  Philostophiqiirs.  and  in  vol.  i.  p.  27  of  the 

fact  of  exi.-tt'ncc  from  that  of  thoiifrht,  but  to  collectod  edition  of  his  works.  —  Ed. 

state  tliat  personal  e.xistencc  consists  in  con-  2  Treatise  of  Human  ymure,  part  iv.  sect,  v., 

sciousness,  is  shown  in  M.  Cousin's  Disser-  vi.  —  Ed. 

tation,    Sitr  le    vrai   sens   dii   co^to  ergo   sum;  ."i  Kritik  tier  rcinen  Vcrnunft,  TranP.  Dial,  tl 

printed  in  the  earlier  editions  of  the  Frag-  ij.  c.  I.  —  Ed. 


260  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XlX. 

of  the  facts  of  consciousness.  His  conclusion  is,  therefore,  refuted 
in  the  refutation  of  iheir  premises,  which  is  accomplished  in  the 
simple  exposition  that  they  at  once  found  on,  and  deny,  the  veracity 
of  consciousness.  And  by  this  objection  the  doctrine  of  Kant  is 
overset.  For  if  he  attempts  to  philosophize,  he  must  assert  the 
possibility  of  philosophy.  But  the  possibility  of  philosophy  sup- 
poses the  veracity  of  consciousness  as  to  the  contents  of  its  testi- 
mony; therefore,  in  disputing  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to 
our  mental  unity  and  substantiality,  Kant  disputes  the  possibility 
of  philosophy,  and,  consequently,  reduces  his  own  attempts  at 
philosophizing  to  absurdity. 

The  third  datum  under  consideration  is  the  Identity  of  Mind  oT 
Person.    This  consists  in  the  assurance  we  have-. 

3   Mental  Identity.  .  ,  ii,-    i  •  x^  4. 

from  consciousness,  that  our  thinking  xLgo,  not- 
withstanding the  ceaseless  changes  of  state  or  modification,  of 
Avhich  it  is  the  subject,  is  essentially  the  same  thing,  —  the  same 
person,  at  every  period  of  its  existence.  On  this  subject,  laying 
out  of  account  certain  subordinate  diiferences  on  the  mode  of 
stating  the  fact,  philosophers,  in  general,  are  agreed.  Locke,^  ii; 
the  Essay  on  the  Human  Understanding ;  Leibnitz,^  in  the  Ncm- 
veaux  Essais;  Butler,'  and  Reid,*  are  particularly  worthy  of  atten 
tion.  In  regard  to  this  deliverance  of  consciousness,  the  truth  of 
which  is  of  vital  importance,  affording,  as  it  does,  the  basis  of 
moral  responsibility  and  hope  of  immortality,  —  it  is,  like  the  last, 
denied  by  Kant  to  afford  a  valid  ground  of  scientific  certainty.  He 
maintains  that  there  is  no  cogent  proof  of  the  substantial  perma- 
nence of  our  thinking  self,  because  the  feeling  of  identity  is  only 
the  condition  under  which  thought  is  possible.  Kant's  doubt  in 
regard  to  the  present  fact  is  refuted  in  the  same  manner  as  his 
doubt  in  regard  to  the  preceding,  and  there  are  also  a  number  of 
special  grounds  on  which  it  can  be  shown  to  be  untenable.  But 
of  these  at  another  time. 

We  have  now  terminated  the  consideration  of  Consciousness  as 

the  general  faculty  of  thought,  and  as  the  only 

The  peculiar  diffi-       instrument  and  onlv  source  of  Philosophy.     But 

cullies  and  facilities       ^^^^^^.^  proceeding  to  treat  of  the   Special   Fac- 

of    psychological     lu-  i  o  i       ^ 

vestigation.  ulties,  it   may  be  proper  here  to  premise  some 

observations  in  relation  to  the  peculiar  Difficul- 
ties and  peculiar  Facilities  which  we  may  expect  in  the  applica- 

1  Book  ii.  c.  27,  especially  §  9  et  seq.  —  EiT>.  3  Analogy,  Diss.  i.     Of  Personal  Identity 

Ed. 

2  Liv.  ii.  c.  27. —  Ed.  ■*  Tnt   Powers,  Essay  iii.  ce.  ir.  vl.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XIX.  METAPHYSICS.  2^)1 

tion  of  consciousness  to  the  study  of  its  own  phaenomena.     I  sliall 

first  S|)e;ik  of  the  difficulties. 

Tlie  first  difficulty  in  psychological  observation  arises  from  tliis, 
,   _.^    ,  that  the  conscious  mind  is  at  once  the  observing 

I.  DifBcuIties.  1  •  1 

subject  and  the  object  observed.  "What  are 
the  consequences  of  this?  In  the  first  place,  the  mental  energy, 
instead    of  being   concentrated,   is   divided,   and    divided    in    two 

divergent  directions.  The  state  of  mind  ob- 
1.   The  conscious       served,    and    the    act    of   mind    observing,    are 

mind  at  once  the  oh-  ^       n        •  •  •  ,  "", 

.ervinjr    subject    and       mutually    in    ail    inverse    ratio;    each    tends    to 
the  object  observed.         annihilate  the  other.    Is  the  state  to  be  observed 

intense,  all  reflex  observation  is  rendered  impos- 
sible;  the  mind  cannot  view  as  a  spectator;  it  is  wholly  occupied 
as  an  agent  or  patient.  On  the  other  hand,  exactly  in  proportion 
as  the  mind  concentrates  its  force  in  the  act  of  reflective  obser\  a- 
tion,  in  the  same  })roportion  must  the  direct  phenomenon  lose  in 
vivacity,  and,  consequently,  in  the  precision  and  individualitv  of 
its  character.  This  difficulty  is  manifestly  iiisupera})le  in  those 
states  of  mind,  which,  of  their  very,  nature,  as  suppressing  con- 
sciousness, exclude  all  contemporaneous  and  voluntary  observation, 
as  in  sleej)  and  fainting.  In  states  like  dreaming,  which  allow  at 
least  of  a  mediate,  but,  therefore,  only  of  an  imperfect  observation, 
through  recollection,  it  is  not  altogether  exclusive.  In  all  states 
of  strong  mental  emotion,  the  passion  is  itself,  to  a  certain  extent, 
a  negation  of  the  tranquillity  requisite  for  observation,  so  that  we 
are  thus  impaled  on  the  awkward  dilemma,  —  either  we  possess  the 
necessary  tranquillity  for  observation,  with  little  or  nothing  to 
observe,  or  there  is  something  to  observe,  but  we  liave  not  the 
necessary  tranquillity  for  obser\ation.  All  this  is  completely  oppo- 
site in  our  observation  of  the  external  world.  There  the  objects 
lie  always  ready  for  our  inspection  ;  and  we  have  only  to  open  our 
eyes  and  guard  ourselves  from  the  use  of  hypotheses  and  green 
8])ectacles,  to  carry  our  observations  to  an  easy  and  succos>ifiil 
termination.' 

In    the   second  place,   in   the   study  of  external   nature,  several 
observers  may  associate  themselves  in  the  pur- 

2.    Want  of  mutual  •.  i     -i.     •  ii     i  i  ..  ,• 

suit;    and    it    is    well    known    how    cooperation 

cooperation.  '  '■ 

and  mutual  symjiathy  preclude  tedium  and  lan- 
guor, and  brace  up  the  faculties  to  their  highest  vigor.  Hence  the 
old  proverb,  ic?ius  ho?no,  ftuHits  homo.  "As  iron,"  says  Solomon, 
"sharpeneth  iron,  so  a  man  sharpeneth  the   understanding  of  his 

]    [Cf.    Biunde,    Vtrsuck    tinrr  jt/ntematisrhrn  Behandlung  lifr  empirischen    P.tychologie,   i.    p.  .V«.J 


262  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XlX.  " 

friend,"'  "In  my  opinion,"  says  Flato,^  "it  is  well  expressed  by 
Homer, 

'  By  mutual  confidence  and  mutual  aid, 
Great  deeds  are  done,  and  great  discoveries  made; 

for  if  we  labor  in  company,  we  are  always  more  prompt  and  capa- 
ble for  the  investigation  of  any  hidden  matter.  But  if  a  man 
works  out  anything  by  solitary  meditation,  he  forthwith  goes 
about  to  find  some  one  with  whom  he  may  commune,  nor  does  he 
think  his  discovery  assured  until  confirmed  by  the  acquiescence  of 
others."  Aristotle,'  in  like  manner,  referring  to  the  same  passage 
of  Homer,  gives  the  same  solution.  "  Social  operation,"  he  says, 
"renders  us  more  energetic  both  in  thought  and  action;"  a  senti- 
ment  which  is  beautifully  illustrated  by  Ovid,"* 

"  Scilicet  ingeniis  aliqua  est  concordia  junctis, 

Et  servat  studii  foedera  quisque  sui. 
Utque  meis  numeris  tua  dat  facundia  nervos, 
Sic  venit  a  nobis  in  tua  verba  nitor." 

Of  this  advantage  the  student  of  Mind  is  in  a  great  measure  deprived. 
He  who  would  study  the  internal  world  must  isolate  himself  in  the 
solitude  of  his  own  thought ;  and  for  man,  who,  as  Aristotle 
observes,^  is  more  social  by  nature  than  any  bee  or  ant,  this  isolation 
is  not  only  painful  in  itself,  but,  in  place  of  strengthening  his  jjowers, 
tends  to  rob  them  of  what  iii.iii)tains  their  vigor,  and  stimulates  their 
exertion. 

In  the  third  place,  "  In  the  study  of  the  material  universe,  it  is 
not  necessary  that  each  observer  should  himself 
make  every  observation.     The  phaenomena  are 

xciousness  can   be  ac-  i       ■•  ,  t  -i      i  .1      i      i  1 

cpted  at  .econd-hand.       ^^^^e  SO  palpable  and  so  easily  described,  that  the 

experience  of  one  observer  suffices  to  make  the 
facts  which  lie  has  witnessed  intelligible  and  credible  to  all.  In 
point  of  fact,  our  knoM'ledge  of  the  external  world  is  taken  chiefly 
upon  trust.  The  phjenomena  of  the  internal  world,  on  the  contrary, 
are  not  thus  capable  of  being  described  ;  all  that  the  first  observer 
can  do  is  to  lead  others  to  repeat  his  experience  :  in  the  science  of 
mind,  we  can  believe  nothing  upon  authority,  tp''^  nothing  upon 
trust.  In  the  physical  sciences,  a  fact  viewed  in  different  aspects 
and  in  diflTerent  circumstances,  by  one  or  more  observers  of  acknowl- 

1  Prox'tr'Of,  xxvii.  1".    The  authorized  ver-  3  Eth.  Nic,  viii.  1.     Cf.ibid.,  ix.  9.  —  Ed 
■ion  18  counltnance.  —  Ed.  4  Epist  ex  Ponto,  ii.  5,  59, 69.  —  EX). 

2  Prptagoras,  p.  348.  —  Ed.  5  Polit.  i.  2.  —  Ed. 


3.    No  fact  of  con- 


Lect.  XIX.  MKT  A  PHYSICS.  263 

edged  sagacity  and  good  faitli,  is  not  only  comprehended  as  clearly 
by  those  Avho  have  not  seen  it  for  themselves,  but  is  also  admitted 
without  hesitation,  independently  of  all  personal  verification. 
Instruction  thus  suffices  to  make  it  understood,  and  the  authority  of 
the  testimony  carries  with  it  a  certainty  which  almost  precludes  the 
possibility  of  doubt. 

"But  this  is  not  the  case  in  the  i)hilosophy  of  mind.  On  the  <-on- 
trary,  we  can  here  neither  understand  nor  believe  at  second  hand. 
Testimony  can  impose  nothing  on  its  own  authority  ;  and  instruction 
is  only  instruction  when  it  enables  us  to  teach  ourselves,  A  fact  of 
consciousness,  however  well  observed,  however  clearly  exj^ressed, 
and  however  great  may  be  our  confidence  in  its  observer,  is  for  us  as 
nothing,  until,  by  an  experience  of  our  own,  we  have  observed  and 
recognized  it  ourselves.  Till  this  be  done  we  cannot  comprehend 
what  it  means,  far  less  admit  it  to  be  true.  Hence  it  follows  that,  in 
l)hilosoi)hy  ))n)per,  instruction  is  limited  to  an  indication  of  the 
position  in  wl)i(.'h  the  pupil  ought  to  place  himself,  in  order  by  his 
own  observation  to  verify  for  himself  the  facts  wliich  his  instructor 
]>ronounces  true."' 

In  the  fourth  place,  the  phaanomena  of  consciousness  are  not 
arrested  during  observation, — they  are  in  a  ceaseless  and  rapid 
flow;  each  state  of  mind  is  indivisible,  but  for  a  moment,  and  there 
are  not  two  states  or  two  moments  of  whose  precise  identity  we 

can  l)e  assui-ed.     Thus,  before  we  can  observe  a 

4.    Phaenomcna    of  i-x;         •  •     •        i 

consciousness  not  ar-  "lodihcation,  it  IS  already  altered ;  nay,  the  very 
rested  during  obstrva-  intention  of  observing  it,  suffices  for  the  change, 
tion,  but  only  to  be       It  hcnce  results  that  the  phajuomena  can  only  be 

studied  throu<;)i  mem-  4.     t     i    iU  1     -^  •    •  1 

studied  through  its  reminiscence ;  but  memory 

reproduces  it  often  very  imperfectly,  and  always 

in  lower  vivacity  and  precision.     The  objects  of  the  external  world, 

on  the  other  hand,  remain  either  unaltered  during  our  observation, 

or  can  be  renewed  without  change  ;  and  we  c;in  leave  oft'  at  will  and 

recommence  our  investigation  -without  detriment  to  its  result.- 

In  the  fit\h  place,  "The  phenomena  of  the  mental  world  are  not,  like 

those  of  the  material,  placed  by  the  side  of  each 

T).  Presented  only  in  .1         •  rni  ..!*./•  1  1  •    1 

-„~,o„„-«„  other  111  Space.      1  hey  want  that  form  bv  which 

succession.  i  j 

external  objects  attract  and  fetter  our  attention  ; 
they  appear  oi''-'«  in  rows  on  the  thread  of  time,  oc(U|tying  their 
fleeting  moment,  an<l  then  vanishing  into  oblivion  ;  whereas,  exter- 
nal objects  stand  before  us  steadfast,  and  distinct,  and  simultaneous, 
in  all  the  life  and  empliasis  of  extension,  figure,  and  color." ' 

1  Cardaillac,  Etut/e.i  de  PhUofop/iu.  i   p.  ri.  .laillac,  Etw/m  dt  Philoa.,  i.  3,  4.J        "•  Biunde, 

a  [Ancillon,  Nuuv.  MHangrx,  ii.   li)2.    Car-       Psj/chvlogU,  vo\.  i.  p.  bG.] 


264  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XIX 

Iti  tlic  sixth  place,  the  perceptions  of  the  different  qualities  of 

external  objects  are  decisively  discriminated  by 

6.  Naturally  blend       different  corporcal  organs,  so  that  color,  sound, 

with  each  other,  and       soliditv,  odor,  flavor,  are,  in  the  sensations  them- 

are  i)resented  in  com-  "■  .  .,.,.„ 

igj^jf  selves,  contrasted,  "without  the  possibility  of  con- 

fusion. In  an  individual  sense,  on  the  contrary, 
it  is  not  always  easy  to  draw  the  line  of  separation  between  its  per- 
ceptions, as  these  are  continually  running  into  each  other.  Tlius 
red  and  yellow  are,  in  their  extreme  points,  easily  distinguished,  but 
the  transition  point  from  one  to  the  other  is  not  precisely  deter- 
mined. Now,  in  our  internal  obseiwation,  the  mental  iihasnomena 
cannot  be  discriminated  like  the  jDerceptions  of  one  sense  from  the 
perceptions  of  another,  but  only  like  the  perceptions  of  the  same. 
Thus  the  phsenomenon  of  feeling,  —  of  pleasure  or  pain,  and  the 
j^hamomenon  of  desire,  are,  when  considered  in  their  remoter  diver- 
gent  aspects,  manifestly  marked  out  and  contradistinguished  a* 
different  original  modifications ;  Avhcreas,  when  viewed  on  their 
approximating  side,  they  are  seen  to  slide  so  insensibly  into  each 
other,  that  it  becomes  impossible  to  draw  between  them  any  accuratf*^ 
line  of  demarcation.  Thus  the  various  qualities  of  our  internal  liie 
can  be  alone  discriminated  by  a  mental  jirocess  called  Abstraction, 
and  abstraction  is  exposed  to  many  liabilities  of  erro'-.  Xay,  the 
various  mental  operations  do  not  present  themselves  distinct  an«} 
separate  ;  they  are  all  bound  up  in  the  same  unity  of  action,  and  as 
they  are  only  possible  through  each  other,  they  caimot,  even  in 
thought,  be  dealt  with  as  isolated  and  a])art.  In  fftij  perception 
of  an  external  object,  the  qualities  are,  indeed,  likewise  presented 
by  the  different  senses  in  connection,  as,  for  example,  vinegar  is  at 
once  seen  as  yellow,  felt  as  liquid,  tasted  as  sour,  and  so  on  ;  never- 
theless, the  qualities  easily  allow  themselves  in  abstraction  to  be 
viewed  as  really  separable,  because  they  are  all  the  properties  of  an 
extended  and  divisible  body  ;  whereas  in  the  mind,  thoughts,  feel- 
ings, desires,  do  not  stand  separate,  though  in  juxtaposition,  but 
every  mental  act  contains  at  once  all  these  qualities,  as  the  constit- 
uents of  its  indivisible  simplicity. 

In  the  seventh  place,  the  act  of  reflection  on  our  internal  modifi- 
cations is  not  accompanied  with  that  frequent  and  varied  sentiment 
of  pleasure,  which  we  experience  from  the  impression  of  external 
things.  Self-observation  costs  ns  a^reater  effort,  and  has  less  ex- 
citement than  the  contemplation  of  the  material  world ;  and  the 
higher  and  more  refined  gratification  which  it  supplies  when  its 
habit  has  been  once  formed,  cannot  be    conceived  by  those  who 


Lect.  XIX.  METAPHYSICS.  2(3o 

have  not  as  yet  been  trained  to  its  enjoyment.  *     "The  fii-st  part 

of  our  life  is  fled  In-fove  we  possess  tlie  capacity 
7  The  act  of  reflec-       fyf  reflective  observation;  wliile  the  impressions 

tion  not  accompanied  i  •    i       />  ^•      ,     •     r  •  /» 

.,,  ,,    ,         ,     ,       which,  irom  earliest    iniancy,  we  receive   irora 

with  tlie  frequent  and  J  ^  , 

varied  sentiment  of  material  objects,  the  wants  of  our  animal  nature, 
pleasure,  which  we  and  tlie  prior  development  of  our  external  senses,, 
experience   from  the       ^|j  contribute  to  Concentrate,  even  from  the  first 

impression  ol  external  .  it         • 

,,,i,   g  breath  of  life,  our  attention  on  the  world  witn- 

out.  The  second  ])asses  without  our  caring  to 
observe  ourselves.  Tlie  outer  life  is  too  agreeable  to  allow  the 
soul  to  tear  itself  from  its  gratifi(%ations,  and  return  frequently  upon 
itself.  And  at  the  period  when  the  material  Avorld  lias  at  length 
])alled  upon  the  senses,  when  the  taste  and  the  desire  of  reflection 
gradually  become  predominant,  we  then  find  ourselves,  in  a  certain 
sort,  already  made  up,  and  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  resume  our  life 
from  its  commeniement,  and  to  discover  how  we  have  become  what 
we  now  are."  -  "■  Hitherto  external  objects  have  exclusively  riveted 
our  attention  ;  our  organs  have  acquired  the  flexibility  requisite  for 
this  peculiar  kind  of  observation  ;  Ave  have  learned  the  method, 
acquired  the  habit,  and  feel  the  ])leasure  which  results  from  perform- 
ing what  we  jterform  m  ith  ease.  But  let  us  recoil  upon  ourselves; 
the  scene  changes;  the  charm  is  gone;  difficulties  accumulate ;  all 
that  is  done  is  done  irksomely  and  Avith  effort ;  in  a  word,  every- 
thing within  repels,  everything  Avithout  attracts ;  Ave  reach  the  age 
of  manhood  without  beins;  tautxht  another  lesson  than  readinir  Avdiat 
takes  ])lace  without  and  around  us,  Avhilst  Ave  possess  neither  the 
habit  nor  the  method  of  studying  the  volume  of  our  own  thoughts."* 
"F\)r  a  long  time,  Ave  ai'e  too  absorbed  in  life  to  be  able  to  detach 
ourselves  from  it  in  thought ;  and  Avlieii  the  desires  and  the  feelings 
&,re  at  length  Aveakened  or  tranquilli/A'd,  —  when  Ave  are  at  length 
restored  to  ourselves,  we  can  no  longer  judge  of  the  preceding 
state,  because  we  can  no  longer  reproduce  or  re])lace  it.  Thus  it  is 
that  our  life,  in  a  pliiloso])liieal  sense,  runs  like  water  through  our 
fingers.  We  are  carried  along  lost,  whelmed  in  our  life ;  Ave  live, 
but  rarely  see  ourselves  to  live. 

"■The  reflective  Ego,  Avhich  distinguishes  self  from  its  transitory 
modifications,  and  which  separates  the  spectator  from  the  spectacle 
of  life,  Avhich  it  is  continually  representing  to  itself,  is  never  devel- 
oped in  the  majority  of  mankind  at  all,  and  evi-n  in  the  thoughtful 


I  [Biunde,  Pxycholngif,  vol.  i.  p.  56. J  ^  [.\ncillon.  .Vohi-.  ^U■lans:rs.  t  ii.  p.  103. j 

a  [Cardaillac,  Etmlrs.  lie  P/iilosnphir,  t.  i.  p.  S.] 

31 


266  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XIX 

and  reflective  few,  it  is  foi'ined  only  at  a*  mature  period,  and  is  even 
then  only  in  activity  by  starts  and  at  intervals."  ^ 

But   Philosophy  has   not  only   peculiar  difficulties,   it   has   also 

peculiar   facilities.     There   is    indeed  only  one 

10  aci  I  les  o         external    condition    on  which  it   is   dependent, 

pliiloHOphical  study.  _  ^  '■ 

and  that  is  language  ;  and  when,  in  the  progress 
of  civilization,  a  language  is  once  formed  of  a  copiousness  and  pli- 
ability capable  of  embodying  its  abstractions  Avithout  figurative 
ambiguity,  then  a  genuine  philosophy  may  commence.  With  this 
one  condition  all  is  given  ;  the  Philosopher  requires  for  his  dis- 
coveries no  preliminary  j)reparations,  —  no  apparatus  of  instruments 
and  materials.  He  has  no  new  events  to  seek,  as  the  Historian  ;  no 
new  combinations  to  form,  as  the  Mathematician.  The  Botanist, 
the  Zoologist,  the  Mineralogist,  can  accumulate  only  by  care,  and 
trouble,  and  expense,  an  inadequate  assortment  of  the  objects 
necessary  for  their  labors  and  observations.  But  that  most  impor- 
tant and  interesting  of  all  studies  of  which  man  himself  is  the 
object,  has  no  need  of  anything  external ;  it  is  only  necessary  that 
the  observer  enter  into  his  inner  self  in  order  to  find  there  all  he 
stands  in  need  of,  or  rather  it  is  only  by  doing  this  that  he  can  hope 
to  find  anything  at  all.  If  he'  only  effectively  pursue  the  method 
of  observation  and  analysis,  he  may  even  dispense  with  the  study 
of  philosophical  systems.  This  is  at  best  only  useful  as  a  mean 
towards  a  deeper  and  more  varied  study  of  himself,  and  is  often 
only  a  tribute  paid  by  philosophy  to  erudition.  ^ 

1  [Ancillon,  Ncuv.  Melanges,  t.  ii.  pp.  103,       ThxxTot,  Introduction  d  T  Etude df.  la  PhilotopMe 
104, 105.]  t.  i.,  Disc.  Pr61.  p.  36.] 

■■i  [Cf.  Fries,  Logik.  «  126,  p.  587  (edit.  1819). 


LECTURE    XX. 

DISTRIBUTION  OF  tHE   SPECIAL   COGNITIVE   FACULTIES. 

Gentlemen  :  —  We  have  now  concluded  the  consideration  of 
Consciousness,  viewed  in  its  more  general  rela- 

The  Special  Facul-  .  i     ,     n  i  ^  i 

ties  of  Knowledge.  ^^^ns,  and  shall  proceed  to  analyze  its  more  par- 

ticular modifications,  that  is,  to  consider  the 
various  Special  Faculties  of  Knowledge. 

It  is  here  proper  to  recall  to  your  attention  the  division  I  gave 

you  of  the  Mental  Pha^nomona  into  three  great 

Three  great  classes       classes,  —  viz.,  the   ])ha?nomena  of   Knowledge, 

•f    mental    iihaenom-  ,  ,  i«  t->      i-  i  ^i  i  "^ 

the  phaenomena  oi  r  eelinf'',  and  tlie  ])h;enomena 

ena.  *  , 

of  Conation.  But  as  these  various  phajnomena 
all  suppose  Consciousness  as  their  condition,  —  those  of  the  first 
class,  the  phaenomena  of  knowMedge,  being,  indeed,  nothing  but  con- 
sciousness in  various  relations,  —  it  was  necessary,  before  descending 
to  the  consideration  of  the  subordinate,  first  to  exhaust  the  princi- 
]»al ;  and  in  doing  this  the  discussion  has  been  ]»rotracted  to  a 
•greater  length  than  I  anticipated. 

1  now  proceed  to  the  j)articular  investigation  of  the  first  class  of 

the  mental  phfenomena,  —  those  of  Knowledge 
The  tirgtciag8,-Piia--       ^^  Cognition,  —  and  shall  commence  by  delineat- 

iiomeiia     of    Knowl-         .  ,  ^i  t   ^   -i      x*  r    xi  :*:., 

niir   to    vou    the    distribution    oi    the   co[;nitive 

edge.  r>  .  >  _ 

faculties  which  I  shall  adoi)t;  —  a  distribution 
different  from  any  other  with  which  T  am  acquainted.  But  I  would 
first  promise  an  observation  in  regard  to  psychological  powers,  and 
to  ])sychological  divisions. 

As  to  mental  j)owers,  —  under  which  term  are  included  nuiital 

fac\dties  and  capacities,  —  you  are  not  to  suppose 

Mental  power*.  '  ,  ,      ,>  i  •    i  • 

entities  ri-ally  distinguishable  from  the  thinking 
principle,  or  really  diti'trcnt  from  each  other.  Mental  powers  are 
not  like  bodilv  organs.  It  is  the  same  simple  substance  which 
exerts  every  energy  of  every  faculty,  however  various,  and  which  is 
afl^ected  in  every  mode  of  every  capacity,  however  opjiosite.  This 
has    frequently  been    wilfully    or    igiu.traiitly    misumlerstood  ;    .and, 


268  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XX 

among  others,  Dr.  Brown  has  made  it  a  matter  of  reproach  to  phi. 

losophers  in  general,  that  they  regarded  the  fac- 

Brown  wrong  as  to       ulties  into  which  they  analyzed  the  mind  as  so 

the    common    phiio-       many  distinct  and  independent  existences.'     No 

sophical  opinion  re- 
garding these,  reproach,  hoAvever,  can  be  more  unjust,  no  mis- 
take more  flagrant ;  and  it  can  easily  be  shown 
that  this  is  perhaps  the  chai-ge,  of  all  others,  to  wliich  the  very  small- 
est number  of  psychologists  need  plead  guilty.  On  this  point  Dr. 
Brown  does  not,  however,  stand  alone  as  an  accuser ;  and,  both  be- 
fore and  since  his  time,  the  same  charge  has  been  once  and  again  pre- 
ferred, and  this,  in  particular,  with  singular  infelicity,  against  Reid 
and  Stewart.  To  speak  only  of  the  latter,  —  he  sufficiently  declares 
his  opinion  on  the  subject  in  a  foot-note  of  the  Dissertation:  —  "I 
quote,"  he  says,  "the  following  passage  from  Addison,  }iot  as  a  speci- 
men of  his  metajDhysical  acumen,  but  as  a  proof  of  his  good  sense  in 
divining  and  obviating  a  difficulty,  M'hich,  I  believe,  most  persons 
will  acknowledge  occurred  to  themselves  when  they  first  entered  on 
metaphysical  studies  :  — '  Although  we  divide  the  soul  into  several 
powers  and  faculties,  there  is  no  such  division  in  the  soul  itself,  since 
it  is  the  v;1wle  soul  that  remembers,  understands,  wills,  or  imagines. 
Our  manner  of  considering  the  memory,  understanding,  will,  imagi- 
nation, and  the  like  faculties,  is  for  the  better  enabling  us  to  express 
ourselves  in  such  abstracted  subjects  of  speculation,  not  that  there 
is  any  such  division  in  the  soul  itself.'  In  another  part  of  the  same 
paper,  Addison  observes, '  that  what  we  call  the  faculties  of  the  soul 
are  only  the  different  ways  or  modes  in  which  the  soul  can  exert 
herself.'  — ASpccto^w,  No.  600."- 
I  shall  first  state  to  you  what  is  intended  by  the  terms  7nental power, 
faculty,  or  capacity ;  and  then  show  you  that 
What  meant  by  men-       j^^,  other  opinion   has  been  generally  held  by 

tal  power ;  and  the  rel- 

ative  opinion  of  phi-         philosophers. 

losophers.  It  is  a  fact  too  notorious  to  be  denied,  that  the 

mind  is  capable  of  diflTerent  modifications,  that 
is,  can  exert  different  actions,  and  can  be  affected  by  different  pas- 
sions. This  is  admitted.  But  these  actions  and  passions  are  not  all 
dissimilar;  every  action  and  passion  is  not  different  from  every 
other.  On  the  contrary,  they  are  like,  and  they  are  unlike.  Those, 
therefore,  that  are  like,  Ave  group  or  assort  together  in  thought,  and 
bestow  on  tliem  a  common  name ;  nor  are  these  groups  or  assort- 
ments manifold,  —  they  are  in  fact  few  and  simple.  Again,  every 
action  is  an  effect;  every  action  and  2)assiou  a  modificatiou.     But 

1  Philosophy  of  the  Hitman  Mind,  Lecture  xvi.  vol.  i.  p.  3.38,  (second  edition.)  —  Kd. 

2  ColUtieiJ  Works,  vol    i.  p.  334. 


m 


Lkct.  XX.  METAPHYSICS.  269 

every  effect  supposes  a  cause ;  every  modification  supposes  a  subject. 
When  Ave  say  that  the  mind  exerts  an  energy,  we  virtually  say  that 
the  mind  is  the  cause  of  tlie  energy;  wlien  we  say  tliat  the  mind 
acts  or  suifers,  we  say  in  other  words,  that  the  mind  is  the  subject 
of  a  modification.  But  the  modifications,  tliat  is,  tlie  actions  and 
passions,  of  the  mind,  as  we  stated,  all  fall  into  a  few  resembling 
groups,  wliich  we  designate  by  a  peculiar  name  ;  and  as  the  mind  is 
the  common  cause  and  subject  of  all  these,  we  are  surely  entitled  to 
say  in  general  that  the  mind  has  the  faculty  of  exerting  such  and 
such  a  class  of  energies,  or  has  the  capacity  of  being  modified  by 
such  and  such  an  order  of  affections.  We  here  excogitate  no  new, 
no  occult  principle.  We  only  generalize  certain  effects,  and  then 
infer  that  common  effects  must  have  a  common  cause  ;  we  only 
classify  certain  modes,  and  conclude  that  similar  modes  indicate  the 
same  capacity  of  being  modified.  There  is  nothing  in  all  this  con- 
trary to  the  most  rigid  rules  of  philosophizing;  nay,  it  is  the  purest 
sjx'cimen  of  the  inductive  j)hilos()phy. 

On  this  doctrine,  %  faculty  is  nothing  more  than  a  general  term  for 
the  causality  the  mind  has  of  originating  a  cer- 

Kaculty  and  Capac-  .        ,  „  .  .  ,  , 

ity  distinguished.  ^'^^^^  ^^^^^  ^^  energies ;  a  caimcity  only  a  general 

term  for  the  suscej)tibility  the  mind  has  of  being 
affected  by  a  particular  class  of  emotions.'  All  mental  f)owers  are 
thus,  in  short,  nothing  more  tlmn  niuues  deterniined  by  various 
orders  of  mental  pha'nomen.i.  But  as  these  ])h;cnomena  differ  from, 
and  resemble,  each  other  in  various  respects,  various  modes  of  classi- 
fication may,  therefore,  be  ac4oi»ted,  and  consequently,  various  facul- 
ties and  capacities,  in  different  views,  may  be  the  result. 

And, this  is  what  we  actually  see  to  be  the  case  in  the  different 
systems  of  pliilosophy ;  for  each  system  of  phi- 

i-Juiosopiiioai   Sys-       losophv  is  a  different  view  of  the  pluenomena 

tern,  —  its   tiuf   placr  /.        •  '  ,        -it  i  x  i  i      i  i 

«nd  importance.  ^^  w\\\v\.     Now,  here  I  would  obscrvc  tiiat  we 

miglit  fill  into  one  or  other  of  two  errors,  eitlier 
by  attributing  too  great  or  too  small  importance  to  a  systematic 
arrangement  of  the  mental  ])hjen()mena.  It  must  be  conceded  to 
tliose  who  affect  to  undervalue  })~yc]iological  system,  that  sy.stem  is 
nrither  the  end  first  in  the  order  of  time,  nor  that  paramount  in  tin 
scale  of  importance.  To  attemjit  a  definitive  system  or  synthesis, 
before  we  liave  fully  analyzed  and  accumulated  the  facts  to  be  ar- 
ranged, would  be  preposterous,  and  necessarily  futile  ;  and  system 
is  only  valuable  when  it  is  not  arbitrarily  devised,  but  arises  natu- 
rally out  of  an  observation  of  the  facts,  and  of  the  whole  facts, 
themselves ;   t^s  ttoAAt}?  Trtipa?  TtXturatoi'  iTnyiyvrjfJia. 

1  Sue  above,  p.  123,  ft  $eq.  —  Ed. 


270 


METAPHYSICS. 


Lect.  XX. 


On  the  other  hand,  to  despise  system  is  to  despise  philosophy  j 
for  the  end  of  philosophy  is  the  detection  of  unity.  Even  in  the 
progress  of  a  science,  and  long  prior  to  its  consummation,  it  is  indeed 
better  to  assort  the  materials  we  have  accumulated,  oven  though 
the  arrangement  be  only  temporary,  only  provisional,  than  to  leave 
them  in  confusion.  For  Mathout  such  arrangement,  M'e  are  unable 
to  overlook  our  possessions  ;  and  as  experiment  results  from  the 
experiment  it  supersedes,  so  system  is  destined  to  generate  system 
in  a  progress  never  attaining,  but  ever  approximating  to,  perfection. 

Having  stated  what  a  psychological  power  in  propriety  is,  1  may 

add  that  this,  and  not  the  other,  opinion,  has  been 

The  opinion  gener-       ^^^  ^^^  prevalent  in  the  various  schools  and  ages 

ally  prevalent  regard-  ^      i-i  i  t  it      jj 

ing  mental  powers.  ^^  philosophy.     I  could  adducc  to  you  passagcs 

in  which  the  doctrine  that  the  faculties  and  ca- 
])acities  are  more  than  mere  jiossible  modes,  in  which  the  simple 
indivisible  principle  of  thought  may  act  and  exist,  is  explicitly 
denied  by  Galen,^  Lactantius,^  Tertullian,^  St.  Austin,'*  Isidorus," 
Irenjeus,^  Synesius,'^  and  Gregory  of  Nyssa,^  among  the  fathers  of 


1  Galen,  however,  adopting  Plato's  three- 
fold division  of  the  faculties  {Ratio,  Iracundia^ 
Cvpiditas),  expressly  teaches  that  these  have 
separate  local  seats,  and  that  the  mind  is  a 
whole  composed  of  parts  dilToient  both  in 
kind  and  in  nature  {genere  et  naturn).  See  his 
De  Hii/pocratis  et  Ptatonis  De.cretis.  lib.  vi.  Opera, 
pp.  1003,  1004,  et  seq.  (edit  Basle,  1549).  Cf. 
lib.  V.  c.  viii.  —  Ed. 

2  [  De  Opificin  Dfi,  c.  18.]  [  Opera,  ii.  125  (edit. 
1784);  where,  however,  Lactantius merely  pro- 
nounces the  question  in  regard  to  the  identity 
or  difference  of  the  anima  and  a/iinnis,  insolu- 
ble, and  gives  the  arguments  on  both  sides. 
—  Ed] 

3[De  Anima,  c.  18.]  [Opera,  ii.  304,  (edit. 
1630):  "  Quid  sensus,  nisi  ejus  rei  qua;  senti- 
tur,  intellectus?  Quid  intellectus  nisi  ejus  rei 
quaa  intelligitur  sensus?  Unde  ista  tormenta 
cruciandae  siniplicitatis,  et  suspendend:e  veri- 
tatis?  Quis  mihi  e.xhibebit  sensum  nou  intel- 
ligentem  quod  sentit?  aut  intellectum  non 
sentientemquod  intelligit?  .  .  .  Sicorporalia 
quidem  sentiuntur,  incorporalia  vero  intelli- 
guntur:  verum  geneia  diver.«a  sunt  non  do- 
micilia  sensus  et  intellectus,  id  est,  non  anima 
et  animus."  -  Ed  ] 

•«  See  De  Trinitate,  lib.  x.  c.  8,  §  18.  Opera, 
viii.  p.  898  (edit.  Bened):  '■  Ha'c  tria,  me- 
moria,  intelligentia,  voluntas,  quoniam  non 
sunt  tres  vitae,  sed  una  vita,  nee  tres  mentes, 
sed  una  mens;  consequenter  utique,  nee 
tres    substantia;    sunt,    sed    una    substantia. 

Quocirca  tria  ha;c  eo  sunt  unum,  quo 

una  vita,  una  mens,  una  essentia."    Cf.  ibid.. 


lib.  xi.  c.  3.  §§  5,  6,  Opera,  viii.  p.  903,  (edit. 
Bened.)  L.  ix.  c  iv.  §  3,  and  c.  v.  §  8.  The 
doctrine  of  St.  Augustin  on  this  point,  bow- 
ever,  divided  the  schoolmen.  Henry  of 
tilient,  aud  Gregory  of  Rimini,  maintained 
that  his  opinion  was  Nominalistic,  while 
others  held  that  it  might  be  Identitied  with 
that  of  Aquinas.  See  Fromondu.o,  Philoso- 
]>hia  Christiana  de  Anima,  lib.  i.  C.  vi.  art.  iii. 
p.  \m  et  seq.  (ed.  1649).  —Ed. 

5  [Originum,  lib.  xi.  c.  1.]  [Opera,  p.  94, 
(edit.  1617]  :  "  Ha?c  omnia  adjuncta  sunt 
anima>,  ut  una  res  sit.  Pro  etificientiis  enim 
cau.^iarum  diversa  nomina  sortita  est  anima. 
Nam  et  memorm  mens  est :  dum  ergo  vivificat 
corpus,  anima  est;  dum  scit,  wen.?  est;  dum 
vult,  animus  est;  dum  recolit,  memoria  est,"' 
—  Ed  ] 

6  [Contra  Ha:resiS,  lib.  ii.  C.  29.]  [Opera,  t.  i. 
p  392,  (edit.  Leipsic,  1848) :  "Sensus  hominis, 
mens,  et  cogitatio,  et  intentio  mentis,  et  ea 
quK  sunt  hujusmodi,  non  aliud  quid  prajter 
animam  sunt  ;  sed  ipsius  anima;  motus  et 
operationes,  nullam  sine  anirna  habeutes  sub- 
stantiam."'  —  Ed.] 

7  [De  Insomniis,]  [Opera,  p.  103,  (edit.  1.5.53): 

"OKw  CLKOVfl   TO!   ttViVjJATl,    «oi    OKw  ^KflTfl., 

Ko.]  TO  Aonra  iraina  ZvvaTai.  Avvafieis  fiia 
ixfv  ■waffai  Kara.  Tr/r  KOiv^f  ^iCav'  iroAAoI 
Se  Kara  Trep\o5ov. — Ed. 

8  [  De  Hominis  Opificio,  c.  vi.]  [  Opera,  i.  p.  55.] 
[OuSc  yap  J)fJ.1v  TToWai  rives  elfflf  at  av- 
ri\y]TTTtKaL  rwv  irpayixaruv  5vvafxeis,  el  kcu 
iroXvTpSvws   Sio  rojv  alff^rtaewv  rwv  Karh 


Lect.  XX. 


METAPHYSICS. 


271 


the  Church ;  by  lamblichus,^  Plotinus,-  Prochis,''  Olympiodorus,* 
and  the  pseudo  Hermes  Trisniegistus/'  among  the  Platonists  ;  by  the 
Aphrodisian,"  Ammonias  Hermiae/  and  Philoponus^  among  tho 
Aristotelians.  Since  the  restoration  of  letters  the  same  doctrine  is 
explicitly  avowed  by  the  elder  Scaliger,^  Patricias,^"  and  Campa^ 
nella;"  by  Descartes,'^  Malebranche,^^  Leibnitz,"  and  Wolf;^^  by 
Condillac,'*^    Kant/^    and   the   whole   host   of   recent   philosophers. 


(uriv  icpairrcifif^a.  Mia  yap  ris  eVTi  Sv- 
vafxis,  auTos  6  (yKeifj.evos  vovs,  6  Si  tKaa- 
Tou  Twf  al(r^Tr)picov  Sie^ioiv,  Kal  ritiv  ovTdiv 
(TriSpaffffS/xivo^.  —  El).] 

1  "  Aiiiiiia  <iuainvis  videatur  omnes  rationes 
et  tdtas  in  8e  specios  exhibere,  tamen  doter- 
Tuinata  semper  est  secundum  aliquid  uiium, 
id  est,  unam  speciem."  De  Mysteriis,  as  para- 
phrased by  Marsilius  Ficinus.  Opera,  p.  1879. 
—  Kd. 

2  Ennearl,  iv.  lib.  iii.  §  iii.  p.  374,  (ed.  1015): 
TovTO  8e  ouKfT  hv  Trjf  fief  [^pvxh"]  Sa.tjj', 
t)iv  5«  fj.fpo5  h.u  flvai  irapaaxotT o'  koI  fid- 
Xktto,  01  s  rb  a'jrh  Swd/xfois  irapecTTiv  iird 
Kal  OLS  &KKo  tpyov,  rw  Si  &KKo  olov  ocp^aK- 
p.o7s  Kal  wall''  ou  fx6piot/  &\\o  \pvxvs  6pd(Tfi, 
&\\o  5e  ooffl  \iKTiou  TTape^hfai,  (diAAajf  Se, 
7h  fjLtpi^etu  ooTCDs),  aWa  rh  avrh,  kIlv 
'X.KKri  Owauis  tv  tKaripois  fvipyrj.  Ibid., 
lib.  ii.  p  3t)3:  Vvxh  p.epiffTT]  fj-fv,  on  fv 
iraffi  fj.4p«rt  rod  iv  cp  «Vti«/'  apttpiffros  5e 
8ti  oKtj  iu  TTuai,  Kol  iv  Stwovv  avTov  oArj. 
Cf.  lib.  i.  p.  3t;i.  — Ki>. 

3  In  I'ldionis  Theolo^iam,  lib.  iv.  c.  xvi.  p. 
p.  210,  {edit.  1(518):  Aiot  70^  ttji/  aKpav  fit- 
Tovffiav  Tr[S  ffvvoxris,  a/j-epiaros  &  vovs, 
Aia  Sf  ^h  Sfvrepa  jxtTpa  ttjs  /Ufi^f^fois, 
7)  4'i'X'?  fJ-fpi(TTi),  Kal  a/xfpicTTos  ((TTi.  Kara 
fitav  (TvyKpamv.  Ibid.,  lib.  i.  c.  xi.  p.  25: 
T>/i/  5e  v|/uxV  e"  xai  iroAA.0 ;  —  tlnKs  ren- 
dered in  the  Latin  version  of  Tortus:  "  Ani- 
mam  unam  i-t  mnitu,  [propter  varias  nnius 
aninue  faenltates,  et  variaruin  rcnim  cogni- 
tionem,  (juam  una  anima  liabet.'"]  —  Ed. 

<  01.vnipi<Miorus  adopts  I'lato's  division  of 
tbe  soul  into  three  principles.  As  regards 
the  niiity  of  the  rational  sou!  alciiie.  some- 
thing may  perhaps  be  inferred  from  the  Com- 
mentary on  the  First  Alcibiiu/cs,  where  the 
rational  soul  is  identified  with  the  personal 
self.  See  especially  pp.  203.  'S2(i.  edit.  Creuzer. 
Compare  also  a  passage  from  his  Commentary 
on  the  J'ha>tln,  cited  by  (\)usin,  Fni^tnrnis  PJiil- 
osophiqurs,  tom.  i.  p.  421,  (ed.  1847).  Neither 
passage,  however,  bears  decisively  on  this 
question.  — Ed. 

*  De  Intfllfctiont  ft  Srnsu,  lib.  XV.  f  42.)  [Ta- 
tricii,  iVoea  r//"  Univfrsis  P/ii7o.vo/)/im, (edit.  1593) : 
'El'   yap  To7s    oWois    (,'aioir  rj  alff^ffii  tj; 


(pvfffi  Tfivwrai,  iv  5'  av^puirois  1']  v6T](rts. 
'Noriaecos  5e  6  vovs  Siatpfperat  toctovtov, 
oaov  6  Qfhs  .3^ej($TT)Tos.  'H  juev  yap  i&eioTTjs 
inrh  Tov  iyeov  yivtiai,  t]  Se  v6r}(ns  vnh  rod 
vov,  aSe\<i>ii  ovtra  rod  \6yov,  Kai  upyava 
aK\ri\(i>v.  — Ed.] 

'■  riotraj  yap  aurai  (sc.  \pvxrt  ^perrTiKT), 
aiff^TiKii,  (pavra(T TiKT],  bpfxtfTiKi],  opeKTiKt'i) 
fxia  ovaai  Kara  rh  vwoK^ifievov,  rdis  Sta(po- 
pa7s  Toov  Suva/xewv  avTa7s  Sivp7]VTai.  In  De 
Anima,  lib.  i.  f  140o,  (edit.  Vcn.  1534)— Ed. 

'  T/}$  T}iJ.erepas  ^ux'is  SittoJ  al  ivfpyeiai, 
at  /ter  yvwffriKal,  olov  vovs,  S<i|a,  a'i(r^ri<TLS, 
'l>avTa(Tia,  Siivoia,  al  Se  ^wiiKal  Kai  optKTi- 
Kal,  oTov  0ov\T]ats,  irpoaipfffts,  ^u/xhs,  Kal 
iTri^v/xla.  In  Qiiinque  Voces  Porphyrii,  f.  7n. 
(edit.  Aldine,  1516).  — Ed. 

^  In  Df  Anima,  Procem,  f.  4«.  :  Oi)  yap 
olSev  iaurriv  77  u^is,  i)  i)  CLKo-ij,  i]  awKuis  tj 
aicr^tris'  oiiSe  C'?'''*'  '"'oias  iffrl  (pvcrtccs'  t] 
fievTot  ^VX'^  ^  KoytKTj,  avrjj  eaurqv  yivdia- 
Kei-  ai/TT)  yovv  icTTiv  t)  ^rj-rovcra'  a'urri  ^ 
^TiTov/xfi'ij'  avrri  tj  (vpiaKovaa,  avTrj  tj  fv- 
pi(TKop.fV7]'  7]  yivwcTKovcra,  Kal  yivajaKOfXfvr]- 
Cf  In  lib.  i.  c.  v.,  text  89,-to  end.  —  Ed. 

i'  Exercitationes,  [ccxcvii.  5  1 1  cccvii.  ^  37.] 
[Cf  cccvii.  §  15.]  —  Ed. 

10  Mystica  jEs:yptiorum,  lib.  ii.  C.  iii.  f.  4,  col. 
2:  "Anima  unica  est  et  simplex;  sed  multi- 
plicantur  virtutes  ejus,  ultra  substantiam,  et 
sividetur  operari  plurima  siniul,  ejus  opera 
sunt  mulla  ratione  pationtnni.  Si  quidem 
corpora  non  recipiunt  operationcs  animas 
equaliter,  sed  pro  condifione  sua;  ergo  plu- 
ralitas  operationum  inest  rebus,  non  anima-. "' 

—  Eu. 

II '•  Eandem  aniinani  sentientem  et  memo- 
rativam  esse  iinaginativam  et  discursivam."* 
See  De  Sensu  Rertim,  lib.  ii  C.  xxi.  p.  77,  (edit. 
10.37).    Cf  cc.  xix.  XX.  — Ed. 

1-  [De  Passinnibtis,  pars.  ii.  art.  68.) 

IT  HrrhfTchf  dr  la  Vcritc,  lib.  iii.  C.  i.  }  1  —  Ep. 

H  [iVoifivniM  Esfais,  lib.  ii.  C.  xxi.  4  •>■  p    133 

—  edit.  Jtaspe.] 

15  [Psyciwlogia  RationaJis,  f  81.] 

11!  [De  r  Art  de  pen.irr,  c.  viii.  Cours,  t.  iii  p. 
304.) 

1'  Kritikder  reinen  r.-rauMy}- Transac.  Dial., 
H.  ii.  II.  I.    (p.  407,  edit.  1799).    Kant,  ho^ 


272 


METAPHYSICS. 


1    X'T.  XX 


During  the  mirldle  ages,  the  question  was  indeed  one  which  divided 
the  schools.  St.  Thomas,^  at  the  head  of  one  party,  hehl  that  the 
faculties  were  distinguished  not  only  from  each  other,  but  from  the 
essence  of  the  mind ;  and  this,  as  they  phrased  it,  really  and  not 
formally.  Henry  of  Ghent,"  at  the  head  of  another  party,  main- 
tained a  modified  opinion,  —  that  the  faculties  were  really  distin- 
iruished  from  each  other,  but  not  from  the  essence  of  the  soul, 
Scotus,^  again,  followed  by  Occam  ^  and  the  whole  sect  of  Nominal- 
ists, denied  all  real  difference  either  between  the  several  faculties,  or 
between  the  ficulties  and  the  mind  ;  allowing  between  them  only  a 
formal  or  logical  distinction.  This  last  is  the  doctrine  that  has  sub- 
seqiiently  prevailed  in  the  latter  ages  of  philosophy  ;  and  it  is  a  proof 
of  its  universality,  that  few  modern  psychologists  have  ever  thought 
it  necessary  to  make  an  explicit  profession  of  their  faith  in  what 
they  silently  assumed.  No  accusation  can,  therefore,  be  more  un- 
grounded than  that  which  has  been  directed  against  philosopher's, — 
that  they  have  generally  harbored  the  opinion  that  faculties  are,  like 
organs  in  the  body,  distinct  constituents  of  mind.     The  Aristotelic 

principle,  that  in  relation  to  the  body  "the  soul 
is  all  in  the  whole  and  all  in  every  part,"  —  that 
it  is  the  same  indivisible  mind  that  operates  in 
sense,  in  imagination,  in  memory,  in  reasoning, 
etc.,  differently  indeed,  but  differently  only  be- 
cause  operating   in  different   relations,^  —  this  opinion  is  the  one 


The  Aristotelic  doc- 
trine regarding  the  re- 
lation of  the  soul  to 
the  body. 


ever,  while  he  admits  this  unity  of  the  sub- 
ject, as  a  couception  involved  in  the  fiict  of 
consciousuess,  denies  that  the  conception  can 
be  legitimately  transferred  to  the  soul  as  a 
real  substance.  —  Ed. 

1  Summa,  pc-'S  i.  Q.  77,  art.  i.  et  seg.  Ibid., 
Q.  54.  art.  iii.  Cf.  In  SfM.,  lib.  i.  dist.  iii.  Q. 
4,  art.  ii.  St.  Thomas  is  followed  by  Capre- 
olus,  Cajetan,  Ferrariensis,  and  Marsilius  Fi- 
cinus.  See  Cottunius,  De  Trip.  Stat.  AnimcE 
Rationalii,  p.  281.  —  Ed. 

2  llenry  of  Ghent  is,  by  Fromondus,  classed 
with  Gregory  of  Kimini  and  the  Nominalists. 
See  De  Anima,  lib.  ii.  c  vi.  P.ut  see  (ienovesi, 
Element.  Metapha.  pars  ii.  p.  120. — Eu. 

3  See  Zabaiella,  De  Rebus  Diniumlihu^.  Lib. 
De  Facultaiibus  Aninut,  p  685  Tennemann, 
Gesch.  der  Pliilosop/iie,  viii.  2.  p.  7ol.]  ["  Uieo 
igitur,"  says  Scot  us,  ''quod  potest  sustiiicri, 
quod  essentia  anima;  indistincta  re  et  ratione, 
est  principium  plurium  actionum  sine  diversi- 
tate  reali  potentiarum,  ita  quod  siut  vel  par- 
tes animae  vel  accidentia,  vel  respectus 

Dices,  quod  erit  ibi  saltern  differentia  rationis. 
Concedo,  sed  hac  nihil  faciet  ad  principium 
ooerationis  rcalis.     In  .S/'nr.,  lib.  ii.  dist.  16. 


Q.  2,  (quoted  by  Tennemann.)  The  Conim- 
bricenses  distinguish  between  the  doctrine  of 
Scotus,  and  that  held  in  common  by  Gregory 
(Ariminensis),  Occam,  Gabriel  Biel,  Marsilius, 
and  almost  the  whole  sect  of  the  Nominalists, 
—  who,  they  say,  concur  in  affirming,  —  "  po- 
tentias  [animae]  nee  re  ipsa,  nee  formaliter,  et 
natura  rei,  ab  animse  es.sentia  distingui,  licet 
anima  ex  varietate  actionum  diversa  nomina 
sortiatur;"  whereas  Scotus,  according  to  them, 
is  of  opinion  that,  while  the  faculties  can- 
not in  reality  (re  ipsa)  be  distinguished  from 
the  mind,  these  may,  however,  be  distin- 
guished "formaliter,  et  ex  natura  rei."  In 
De  Anima,  lib  ii  c.  iii.  Q  4,  p.  150.  Cottunius 
attributes  the  latter  opinion  to  the  Scotists 
universally.  See  his  De  Triplici  Statu  Anima 
liatiunalis,  p.  280,  (ed.  1628.)  Cf.  Toletus,  Ir 
De  Anima.  lib.  ii.  c.  iv.  f.  69.  —  Ed.] 

4  In  Sent.,  lib.  ii.  dist.  16,  qq.  24,  26.  Se«s 
Conimbricenses,  In  De  Anima,  p.  150.  Cot- 
tuniu.-,,  De  Trip.  Stat.  An  Rat-,  p.  280.  —  Ed. 

5  De  Anima,  i.  v.  31:  'AW'  ovSiv  T\rTov  if 
fKaTfprj)  rwv  fioplajv  hiravT'  ivvirapx^t  to 
p.6pM  tT/s  ^vxn^i  K-  ■''■  ^.  Cf.  Plotinus, 
above,  p.  271,  note  2.  —  Ed. 


Lkct.  XX.  METAPHYSICS.    .  273 

<lominant  among  psychelogists,  and  tlie  one  which,  though  not 
always  formally  proclaimed,  must,  if  not  j^ositively  disclaimed,  be  in 
justice  presumptively  attributed  to  every  philosopher  of  mind. 
Those  who  employed  the  old  and  familiar  language  of  philosophy, 
meant,  in  truth,  exactly  the  same  as  those  who  would  establish  a 
new  doctrine  on  a  newfangled  nomenclature. 

From  what  I  have  now  said,  you  Mali  be  better  prepared  for  what 

I  am  about  to  state  in  regard  to  the  classifica- 

Psychoiogicai  Divi-       ^j^^^^  ^^^  ^,^^  ^^.^^      .^.^^  ^^^^^^,  ^^  mental  pha3no- 

»ioii,  what.  ,,-,..,.  n     1 

mena,  and  the  distribution  of  the  faculties  of 
Knowledge  founded  thereon.  I  formerly  told  you  that  the  mental 
qualities — the  mental  pha^nomena  —  are  never  presented  to  us  sep- 
arately; they  are  always  in  conjunction,  and  it  is  only  by  an  ideal 
analysis  and  abstraction  that,  for  the  purposes  of  science,  they  can 
bo  discriminated  and  considered  apart.'  The  problem  proposed  in 
such  an  analysis,  is  to  find  the  primary  threads  which,  in  their  com- 
position, form  the  complex  tissue  of  thought.  In  what  ought  to  be 
accomplished  by  such  an  analysis,  all  philosophers  are  agreed,  how- 
ever different  may  have  been  the  result  of  their  attempts.  I  shall 
not  state  and  criticize  the  various  classifications  propounded  of  the 
cotrnitive  faculties,  as  I  did  not  state  and  criticize  the  classifications 
propounded  of  the  mental  phaMiomena  in  general.  The  reasons  are 
the  same.  You  would  be  confused,  not  edified.  I  shall  only  delin- 
eate the  distribution  of  the  faculties  of  knowledge,  which  I  have 
adopted,  and  endeavor  to  afford  you  some  general  insight  into  its 
principles.  At  present  I  limit  my  consideration  to  the  ])l!a['nomena 
of  Knpwlodge  ;  with  the  two  other  classes  —  the  pluenomena  of 
Feeling  and  the  pha3nomena  of  Conation  —  we  have  at  present  no 
concern. 

I  again  rc])eat  that  consciousness   constitutes,  or  is  coextensive 

with,    all    our    faculties    of    knowledge,  —  these 

The  special  faculties       f.^.^nig^  ]^^^^,^  o„ly  gpecial  modifications  under 

of  knowledge,  evolved  .  .  .„  -  ti- 

outofCou8cious»e.s.        ^^'J>i<^''i   cousciousncss   IS  manifested.      It  being, 

therefore,  understood  that  consciousness  is  not  a 

Bpecial   faculty  of  knowledge,  but  the  general  faculty  out  of  whidi 

the  special  faculties  of  knowledge  are  evolved,  I  proceed  to  thii: 

evolution. 

In  the  first  i)lace,  as  we  are  endowed  with  a  faculty-  of  Cognition, 
or  Consciousness  in  general,  and  since  it  cannot 

I.  Tlie  Preseiitative  ..,,,, 

Pagy,,  be  maintained  that  we  have  always  ]>ossessea 

the  knowledge  which  we  now  ]iossess,  it  will  be 

admitted,  that  we  must   have'  a  faculty  "of  acquiring  knowledge. 

1  See  above,  p  130.— 'Ed 

35 


274  ^     METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XX. 

But  this  acquisition  of  knowledge  can  only  be  accomplished  by  the 
immediate  presentation  of  a  new  object  to  consciousness,  in  other 
words,  by  the  reception  of  a  new  object  within  the  sj)here  of  our 
cognition.  We  liave  thus  a  faculty  Avhich  may  be  called  the  Acquis- 
itive, or  the  Presentative,  or  the  Receptive. 

Now,  new  or  adventitious  knowledge  may  be  either  of  things 

external,  or  of  things  internal ;  in  other  words, 

Subdivided,  as  Ex-       either  of  the  phienoniena  of  the  non-ego,  or  of 

temal    and    Internal,  „    ,  ,,.,.'"'.. 

into  Perception  and  "''^  pha^nomenu  ol  tlie  ego  ;  and  this  distinction 
Self  Cousciougness.  of  object  will  detennine  a  subdivision  of  this, 

the  Acquisitive  Faculty.  If  the  object  of  knowl- 
edge be  external,  the  faculty  receptive  or  presentative  of  the  quali- 
ties of  such  ol'ject,  will  be  a  consciousness  of  the  non-ego.  This 
has  obtained  the  name  of  External  Perception,  or  of  Perception 
simply.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  object  be  internal,  the  fliculty 
receptive  or  presentative  of  the  qualities  of  such  subject-object,  will 
be  a  consciousness  of  the  ego.  This  faculty  obtains  the  name  of 
Internal  or  Reflex  Perception,  or  of  Self-Consciousness-  By  the 
foreign  psychologists  this  faculty  is  termed  also  the  Internal  Sense. 

Under  the  general  faculty  of  cognition  is  thus,  in  the  first  place, 
distinguished  an  Acquisitive,  or  Presentative,  or  Receptive  Faculty  ; 
and  this  acquisitive  faculty  is  subdivided  into  the  consciousness  of 
the  non-ego,  or  External  Perception,  or  Perception  simply,  and 
into  the  consciousness  of  the  ego,  or  Self-Consciousness,  or  Internal 
Perception. 

This  acquisitive  faculty  is  the  faculty  of  Experience,  External 
perception  is  the  faculty  of  external,  self-consciousness  is  the  faodty 
of  internal,  experience.  If  we  limit  the  term  Reflection  in  con- 
formity to  its  original  enqilo^^ment  and  proper  signification,  —  an 
attention  to  the  internal  phaenomena,  —  reflection  will  be  an  expres- 
sion for  self-consciousness  concentrated. 

In  the  second  place,  inasmuch'  as  we  are  capable  of  knowledge, 

we  must  be  endowed  not  only  with  a  faculty  of 

II.  The  Conservative       jj^quiring,  but   with    a  foculty  of  retaining  or 

Faculty,    —    Memory  ^  •  -^        i  •       t        iy      ^\  •      c     "i* 

Prope-.  conserving  it  when  acquired.     By  this  taculty, 

I  mean  merely,  and  in  the  most  limited  sense, 
the  power  of  mental  retention.  We  have  thus,  as  a  second  neces- 
sary faculty,  one  that  may  be  called  the  Conservative  or  Retentive. 
This  is  Memory,  strictly  so  denominated,  —  that  is,  the  power  of, 
retaining  knowledge  in  the  mind,  but  out  of  consciousness ;  I  say 
retaining  knowledge  in  the  mind,  but  out  of  consciousness,  for  to 
brinir  theretenttim  out  of  memorv  into  consciousness,  is  the  function 
of  a  totally  different  faculty,  of  which  we  are  immediately  to  speak. 


i 


Lect.  XX.  METAPHYSICS.  275 

Under  tlie  general  faculty  of  cognition  is  thus,  in  the  second  place, 
distinguished  the  Conservative  or  Retentive  Faculty,  or  Memory 
Proper.  Whether  there  be  subdivisions  of  this  faculty,  we  shall 
not  here  iiujuire. 

But,  in  the  third  place,  if  we  are  capable  of  knowledge,  it  is  not 
enough  that  we  possess  a  faculty  of  acquiring, 
■    '  .^    '^^^°  "'^"       and  a  faculty  of  retaining  it  in  the  mind,  but 
out  of  consciousness;  we  must  further  be   en- 
dowed with   a  faculty  of  recalling  it  out  of  unconsciousness  into 
consciousness,  in  short,  a  reproductive  power.     This  Reproductive 
Faculty  is  governed  by  the  laws  which  regulate  the  succession  of 
our  thoughts,  —  the  laws,  as  they  are  called,  of  Mental  Association. 

If  these   laws  are  allowed  to  operate  without 
Subdivided  as  with-       ^he  intervention  of  the  will,  this  faculty  may  be 

out,  or  with  Will,  into  n     i    o  ,•  c-i  -  .-^     * 

„        ^.         ,  ,,     ■        called  Suggestion,  or  Spontaneous  Suggestion  ; 

i5ugge.»ition  and  K«mi-  ~°  '  ^  oo  ' 

niscence.  whereas,  if  applied  under  the  influence  of  the 

will,  it  will  properly  obtain  the  name  of  Remi- 
niscence or  Recollection.  By  reproduction,  it  should  be  ol)served, 
that  I  strictly  mean  the  i)rocess  of  recoverinor  the  absent  thoiudit 
from  unconsciousness,  and  not  its  representation  in  consciousness. 
This  reproductive  faculty  is  commonly  confounded  with  the  con- 
servative, under  the  name  of  Memory ;  but  most  erroneously. 
These  qualities  of  mind  are  totally  unlike,  and  are  possessed  by 
difterent  individuals  in  the  most  ditt'erent  degrees.  Some  have  a 
strong  ficulty  of  conservation,  and  a  feeble  faculty  of  re])roduction  ; 
others,  again,  a  ]>rompt  and  active  reminiscence,  but  an  evanescent 
retention.  Under  the  general  faculty  of  cognition,  there  is  thus 
discriminated,  in  the  third  jilace,  the  Reproductive  Faculty. 

In  the  fourth  place,  as  capable  of  knowledge,  we  must  not  onlv 
be  endowed  with  a  2)resentative,  a  conservative, 

IV.  Tlie  Rcprcseuta-  i  t       j.-         r        ^^         a.\  •  •       i  !• 

and  a  rei)n)(luctive  laculty ;  tliere  is  reouired  tor 

tive  faculty,— 1  mag-  _  '  _  _  •'  '  ^         ^ 

ination.  their  consummation  —  for   the   keystone  of   the 

arch  —  a  faculty  of  rejiresenting  in  consciousness, 
and  of  keeping  before  the  mind  the  knowle<lg('  jiresented,  retained, 
and  reproduced.  We  have  thus  a  Representative  Faculty:  and 
this  obtains  the  name  of  Imagination  or  I'hantasy. 

The  element  of  imagination  iv  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
element  of  reproduction,  though  this  is  tVcfLuently,  nay  commonly, 
done;  and  this  either  by  com])relu'n(ling  these  two  (|ualitics  under 
imagination,  or  by  conjoining  them  with  the  (juality  of  retention 
under  memory.  The  distinction  I  make  is  valid.  For  the  two  fac- 
ulties are  ])ossessed  by  dillercnt  individuals  in  very  dillerent  degrees. 
It  is  not,  indeed,  easy  to  see  liow,  without  a  representative  act,  ao 


276  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XX 

object  can  be  repvofluced.  But  the  fact  is  certain,  that  the  two 
powers  have  no  necessary  propoi'tioa  to  each  other.  The  represen- 
tative faculty  has,  by  philosophers,  been  distinguished  into  the 
Productive  or  Creative,  and  into  the  Rejjroductive,  Imagination.  I 
shall  hereafter  show  you  that  this  distinction  is  untenable. 

Thus,  under  the  general  cognitive  faculty,  we  have  a  fourth  special 
faculty  discriminated,  —  the  Representative  Faculty,  —  Phantasy, 
or  Imagination. 

In  the  fifth  place,  all  the  faculties  Ave  have  considered  are  only 

subsidiary.      They    acquire,  preserve,  call    out, 

V.  The  Eiaborative       .^j^^^   j^^i^  ^^p^  ^^le   materials,  for  the  use  of  a 

'  higher  faculty  wliich  operates  uj^on  these  mate- 

rials, and  which  we  may  call  the  Eiaborative  or 
Discursive  Faculty.  This  faculty  has  only  one  opei-ation,  it  only 
compares,  —  it  is  Comparison,  —  the  faculty  of  Relations.  It  may 
startle  you  to  hear  that  tlie  highest  function  of  mind  is  nothing 
higher  than  comparison,  but,  in  the  end,  I  am  confident  of  convinc- 
ing you  of  the  paradox.  Under  comparison,  I 
Analysis  and  Syu-       ij^pj^^^i^  the  conditions,  and  the  result,  of  com- 

thesis.  .  ,  .     -, 

parison.  In  order  to  compare,  the  mmd  must 
divide  or  separate,  and  conjoin  or  compose.  Analj^sis  and  synthesis 
are,  therefore,  the  conditions  of  comparison.  Again,  the  result  of 
comparison  is  either  the  affirmation  of  one  thing  of  another,  or  the 
negation  of  one  thing  of  another.  If  the  mind  affirm  one  thing  of 
another,  it  conjoins  them,  and  is  thus  again  synthesis.     If  it  deny 

one  thing  of  another,  it  disjoins  them,  and  is 

('onception  or  Gen-  ,  '.  ,       .  ^  i  •      ^  •  i  •    i      • 

eraiization  ^'^^^^   again  analysis.      Generalization,   which  is 

the  result  of  synthesis  and  analysis,  is  thus  an 

act  of  comparison,  and  is  properly  denominated  Conception.  Judg- 
ment is  only  the  comparison  of  two  terms  or 

Judgment.  .  •%•      '    ^  ^  -n  •  11 

Reasonin  notions  directly  together;  Reasoning,  only  the 

comparison  of  two  terms  or  notions  with  each 

other  through  a  third.      Conception  or  Generalization,  Judgment 

and  Reasoning,  are  thus  only  various  applications  of  comparison, 

and  not  even  entitled  to  the  distinction  of  separate  faculties. 

Under  the  general  cognitive  faculty,  there  is  thus  discriminated  a 
fifth  special  faculty  in  the  Eiaborative  Faculty,  or  Comparison. 
This  is  Thought,  strictly  so  called  ;  it  corresj)onds  to  the  AidvoLa  of 
the  Greek,  to  the  iJisciirsus  of  the  Latin,  to  the  Verstand  of  the 
GeiTnan  {)hilosophy ;  and  its  laws  are  the  object  of  Logic. 

But,  in  the  sixth  and  last  place,  the  mind  is  not  altogether  indebted 
to  experience  for  the  whole  apparatus  of  its  knowledge,  —  its 
knowledge  is  not  all  adventitious.     What  we  know  by  experience, 


II 


Lect.  XX.  METAPHYSICS.  2 


Zi  t 


without  experience   we  should  not  have  known  ;    and  as  all    our 

exjK'rience  is  contingent,  all  the  knowledge  de^ 

VI.  The  Regulative       y[^.^,^l  ^.q,^^  t'xperie.iee  is  continoent   also.     But 

Faculty,  —  Reason    or  ,  ... 

Common  Sense.  "'^^'^  ^^'^  cognitions  in  the  mind  which  are  not 

contingent,  —  which  are  necessary,  —  which  we 
cannot  but  think,  —  which  thought  sui)poses  as  its  fundamental  con- 
dition.    These   cognitions,  therefore,  are  not  mere  generalizations 
from  experience.     But  if  not  derived  from  experience,  they  must 
be  native  to  the  mind ;  unles.s,  on  an  alternative  that  we  need  not 
at  present  contemplate,  we  suppose  Avith  Plato,  St.  Austin,  Cousin, 
and  other  philosoi)hers,  that  Reasun,  or  more  properly  Intellect,  is 
impersonal,  and  that  we  are  conscious  of  these  necessary  cognitions 
in    the    divine   mind.      These    native,  these    necessary  cognitions, 
are  tlu*  l.iws  by  which  the  mind  is  governed  in  its  operation^.  aii<l 
which  aft'ord  the  conditions  of  its  capacity  of  knowledge.     These 
necessary   laws,  or   primary  conditions,  of  intelligence,  are   phe- 
nomena of  a  similar  character;  and  we  must,  therefore,  generalize 
or  collect  them  into  a  class ;  and  on  the  })ower  i>ossessed  by  the 
mind  of  manifestuig  these  phainomena,  we  may  bestow  the  name  of 
the  Regulative  Faculty.     This  faculty  corresponds  in  some  measure 
to  what,  in  the  Aristotelic  j>hilosophy,  was  called  Xo??,  —  vovs  {ln- 
teUectu.%  mens),  when  strictly  employed,  being  a  term,  in  that  phi- 
losophy, for  the  place  of  principles,  —  the  locus  principioruni.     It 
is  analogous,  likewise,  to  the  term  Reason^  as  occasionally  used  by 
some  of  the  older  English  philosophers,  and  to  the   Vermmft  (rea- 
son) in  the  philosophy  of  Kant,  Jacobi,  and  others  of  the  recent 
German  metai)hysician.s,  and  from  them  adopted  into  France  and 
England.     It  is  also  nearly  convertible  with  what  I  conceive  to  be 
Reid's,  and  certainly  Stewart's,  notion  of  Common  Sense.     This, 
the  last  general  foculty  which  I  would  distinguish  under  the  Cog- 
nitive Faculty,  is  thus  what  I  would  call  the  Regulative  trr  Legisla- 
tive,—  its  synonyms  being  Xo??,  Intellect,  or  Common  Sense. 

You  will  observe   that  the   term  f'ux^tjj  can  be  applied  to  the 
class  of   i)hu'noiuena  lu-re   collected   under  one 

The    term     Faculty  „.,„j^,^  ^^^^j      j^^   ^  ^,^^,^.  ^XxW^^.y^xW.   signification  from 

not  properly   applica-  i  •      i  * 

bietoReaKonorCom-       ^^'"=1^'  I*'  ^'^^'^^'^  ^^''i*^'!   ai>j)lied   to  the  preceding 
men  Sense.  powers.    For  vol's,  intelligence  or  common  sense, 

meaning  merely  the  complement  of  the  funda- 
mental principles  or  laws  of  thought,  is  not  properly  a  faculty,  that 
is,  it  is  not  an  active  power  at  all.  As  it  is,  however,  not  a  capac- 
ity, it  is  not  easy  to  see  by  what  other  word  it  can  be  denoted. 

Such  are  the  six  special  Faculties  of  Cognition  ;  —  1°,  The  Ac- 
<juisitive  or  Prcsentative  or  Receptive  Faculty  divided  into  Percep- 


278 


METAPHYSICS, 


Lect.  XX. 


tion  and  Self-Consciousness ;  2°,  The  Conservative  or  Retentive  Fac- 
ulty, Memory;    3°,  The  Reproductive  or  Revo- 
These  constitute  the       cative  Faculty,  subdivided  into  Suggestion  and 

whole       fundamental  -r,        ..  j.mi        t^  j.   j.-  in         ix- 

faculties  of  cognition.        Reminiscence;  4*,  The  Representative  Faculty 

or  Imagination ;  5°,  The  Elaborative  Faculty 
or  Comparison,  Faculty  of  Relations;  and,  6°,  The  Regulative 
or  Legislative  Faculty,  Intellect  or  Intelligence  Proper,  Common 
Sense.  Besides  these  faculties,  there  are,  I  conceive,  no  others; 
and,  in  the  sequel,  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  you,  that  while  these 
are  attributes  of  mind  not  to  be  confounded, — not  to  be  analyzed  into 
each  other,  —  the  other  faculties  which  have  been  devised  by  philoso- 
phers are  either  factitious  and  imaginaiy,  or  easily  reducible  to 
these. 

The  following  is  a  tabular  vieAV  of  the  distribution  of  the  Speciai 
Faculties  of  Knowledge : 


6 


I.  Presentative 

II.  Conservative 

III.  Reproductive 

rV.  Representative 
V.  Elaborative 
VI.  Regulative 


External  =  Perception. 
Internal  =  Self-consciousnesa, 

=  Memory. 
Without  will  =  Suggestion. 
With  will  =  Reminiscence. 

Imagination. 

Comparison,  —  Faculty  of  R«latioa«. 

Reason,  —  Conuaoa  Sense. 


LECTURE     XXI. 

THE   PRESENTATIVE   FACULTY. 

1.   PKBCEPTION. REId's    HISTORICAL    VIEW  OF    THE    THEORIES    OP    PERCEPTION 

Havixg   concluded   tl»c    consideration   of   Consciousness  as  the 
coniniou   condition    of  the  mental  ])ha^nomena. 

Recapitulation.  i       ,.     i  i        ,  i  •    , 

and  oT  those  more  ijeneral  pluvnomena  which 
pertain  to  consciousness  as  regarded  in  this  universal  relation,  I 
proceeded,  in  our  last  Lecture,  to  the  discussion  of  consciousness 
viewed  in  its  more  particular  modifications,  —  that  is,  to  the  discus- 
sion of  the  Special  powers,  —  tlu-  Special  Facidties  and  Capacities 
of  Mind.  And,  having  called  to  your  recollection  the  primary  dis- 
tribution of  the  mental  pluenomena  into  three  great  classes,  — the 
plifenomena  included  under  oui-  general  faculty  of  Knowledge,  or 
'i'hought,  the  pluenomena  included  under  our  general  cai)acity  of 
Feeling,  or  of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  and  the  ph.-enomena  included 
under  our  general  power  of  Conation,  that  is,  of  Will  and  Desire, — 
r  passed  on  to  the  consideration  of  the  first  of  these  classes, — 
that  is,  the  phauiomena  of  Knowledge.  This  class  of  "pha;nomena 
are,  in  strictest  propriety,  mere  modifications  of  consciousness,  being 
consciousness  only  in  ditterent  relations ;  and  consciousness  may, 
therefore,  be  regarded  as  the  general  faculty  of  knowledge  :  whereas 
the  phienomena  of  the  other  classes,  though  they  sujipose  conscious- 
ness as  the  condition  of  tlieir  nianifestation,  inasmuch  as  we  cannot 
feel,  nor  will,  nor  desiie,  without  knowing  or  being  aware  that  we 
so  do  or  suffer,  —  these  pha^nomena  are,  however,  something  more 
than  mere  modifications  of  consciousness,  seeing  a  new  quality  is 
superadded  to  that  of  cognition. 

I  may  notice,  ]>arenthetically,  the  reason  why  I  fre(iuently  employ 

co(jnitio)i    as  a   synonym   of    knowledge.     This 
Employment  of  the        .^^\^^^  j^^^^^  merely  for  the  sake  of  varying  the 

term  Cognition  vindi-  .  ''  .     .  "^       ^ 

p,ted.  expression.     Tn  the  first  place,  it  is  necessary  to 

have  a  word  of  this  signification,  which  we  can 
use  in  the  plural.  Now  the  term  knoirled(/es  has  waxed  obsolete, 
though  I  think  it  ouglit  to  ])e  revived.     It  is  frequently  employed 


280  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXL 

l)y  Bacon.'  We  must,  therefore,  have  recourse  to  the  term  cogni- 
Hon,  of  which  the  phxral  is  in  common  usage.  But,  in  the  second 
place,  we  must  likewise  have  a  term  for  knowledge,  which  we  can 
em})loy  adjectively.  The  word  knoxdedge  itself  has  no  adjective, 
for  the  participle  knowing  is  too  vague  and  unemphatic  to  be  em- 
ployed, at  least  alone.  But  the  substantive  cognition,  has  the  ad- 
jective cognitive.  Thus,  in  consequence  of  having  a  plural  and  an 
adjective,  cognition  is  a  word  we  cannot  possibly  dispense  with  in 
psychological  discussion.  It  would  also  be  convenient,  in  the  third 
place,  for  psychological  precision  and  emphasis,  to  use  the  word  to 
cognize  in  connection  with  its  noun  cognition,  as  we  use  the  decom- 
pound to  recognize  in  connection  with  its  noun  recognition.     But  in 

this  instance  the  necessity  is  not  strong  enough 

Condition     under       to  warrant  our  doing  what  custom  has  not  done. 

which    the    employ-       you  will  noticc,  such  an  innovation  is  always 

meiit  of  new  terms  in  .  „       .  ,  i      xi  •        i      t 

philosophy  is  allow-  ^  question  of  circumstances;  and  though  I 
able.  would  not  subject  Philosophy  to  Rhetoric  more 

than  Gregory  the  Great  would  Theology  to 
Grammar,  still,  without  an  adequate  necessity,  I  should  always  rec- 
ommend you,  in  your  English  compositions,  to  prefer  a  word  of 
Saxon  to  a  word  of  Greek  or  L.atin  derivation.  It  would  be  absurd 
to  sacrifice  meaning  to  its  mode  of  utterance,  —  to  make  thought 
subordinate  to  its  expression ;  but  still  where  no  higher  authority,, 
no  imperious  necessity,  dispenses  with  philological  precepts, 
these,  as  themselves  the  dictates  of  reason  and  philosophy,  ought 
to  be  punctiliously  obeyed.  "  It  is  not  in  language,"  says  Leibnitz, 
"that  we  ought  to  play  the  puritan;"-  but  it  is  not  either  for  the 
I)hiloso])her  or  the  theologian  to  throw  off  all  deference  to  the  laws, 
of  language,  —  to  proclaim  of  their  doctrines, 

"  Hysteria  tauta 
Turpe  est  graramaticis  submittere  coUa  rapistris."* 

The  general  right  must  certainly  be  asserted  to  the  philosopher  of 
usurping  a  peculiar  language,  if  requisite  to  express  his  peculiar 
analyses;  but  he  ought  to  remember  that  the  exercise  of  this  right, 
as  odious  and  suspected,  is  strictissimi  juris,  and  that,  to  avoid  tlie 
pains  and  penalties  of  grammatical  recusancy,  he  must  always  be 
able  to  plead  a  manifest  reason  of  philosophical  necessity.*  But  ta 
return  from  this  digression. 

1  See  above,  p.  40.— Ed.  ■■  Buchanan,  Franciscannt,  1.  632.  —  ED. 

2  Vnvorgr(i[fflich.e  Geilanckenbetreffenddi)-.  All-  *  Ovx  '^M*'^  "'  *'*'  "^V  '''Oi(j>5e  ^(^opevovrfSi 
'^ibung  utirl  Verljesserung  der  Teutschen  S/irnche.  xiii'  K6-/u>v  inrripfTai,  d\X'  of  Xoyot  Oi  TlHf 
Opera,  (edit.  Dut<^n8),  vol.  vi.  pars  ii.  p.  13.  rtpoj  Sxnrfp  oiKfrai.  —Vlato.]  [Thestetu'?, 
—  Ed.  p.  173  —  ED.i    ["  Hao  enim  necessario  extor 


Lect.  XXI.  METAPHYSICS.  281 

Having,  I  say,  recalled  to  your  observation  the  primary  distribu- 
tion of  the  mental  pha^nomena  into  these  three  classes,  —  a  distribu- 
tion which,  you  will  remember,  I  state<l  to  you,  was  first  promulgated 
by  Kant, — I  proceeded  to  the  subdivision  of  the  first  class  of  the 
general  faculty  of  knowledge  into  its  various  special  faculties,  —  a 
subdivision,  I  noticed,  for  the  defects  of  which  I  :uu  individually 
accountable.  JJut,  before  disi)laying  to  you  a  general  view  of  my 
scheme  of  distribution,  I  first  informed  you  what  is  meant  by  a 
power  of  mind,  active  or  passive;  in  other  words,  what  is  meant  by 
a  mental  faculty  or  a  mental  capacity;  and  this  both  in  order  to 
afibrd  you  a  clear  conception  of  the  matter,  and,  likewise,  to  obvi- 
ate some  frivolous  objections  which  have  been  made  to  such  an 
analysis,  or  rather  to  such  terms. 

The  phaMiomena  of  mind  are  never  presented  to  us  undecoraposed 

and  simple,  that  is,  we  are  never  conscious  of 

rii^noraenaotiniiid       .jjjy  modification  of  mind  which  is  not  made  up 

presented  in  composi-  *  i  i  ,i  •         i 

ot  many  elementary  modes;    but  tliese  simple 

tion.  J  J  '  1 

modes  we  are  able  to  distinguish,  by  abstrac- 
tion, as  separate  forms  or  qualities  of  oui-  internal  life,  since,  in 
<liiferent  states  of  mind,  they  are  given  in  difierent  proportions  and 
combinations.  AVe  are  thus  able  to  distinguish  as  simple,  by  an 
ideal  abstraction  and  analysis,  what  is  never  actually  given  except 
in  composition  ;  ])recisely  as  we  distinguish  color  from  extension, 
though  color  is  never  presented  to  us  a])art,  nay,  cannot  even  be 
conceived  as  actually  separable,  from  extension.  The  aim  of  the 
psychologist  is  thus  to  analyze,  by  abstraction,  the  mental  pha'- 
nomena  into  those  ultimate  or  ])rimary  qualities,  wh'uli,  in  their 
combinafion,  constitute  the  concrete  com}»lexities  of  actual  thought. 
If  the  simple  constituent  phenomenon  be  a  mental  activity,  we 
give  to  the  active  power  thus  possessed  by  the  mind  of  eliciting 
such  elementary  energy  tlie  name  of  /cirxffi/;  whereas,  if  the  simple 
or  constituent  i)ha'nomeiK)u  be  a  mental  ])assivity,  we  give  to  the 
passive  power  thus  possessed  by  the  mind  of  receiving  such  an 
elementary  afiiection,  the  name  of  capariti/.  Thus  it  is  that  there 
are  just  as  many  simf>le  faculties  as  there  are  ultimate  activities 
of  nund;  ys  niany  simple  capacities  as  there  aic  ultimate  passivities 
of  mind ;  and  it  is  consequently  manifest  that  a  system  of  the 
mental  jio'.vers  «mii  never  be  final  and  couijilete.  until  we  have 
accomplished  a  full  and  accurate  analysis  of  the  various  funda- 
mental phieiJomena  of  our  internal  lite.     And   what  does  such  an 

rjuuuda  suut  *.  .s«pieii|t',  quasi  monstra  nioii-       iiujrm'nms.""    Scalijjer.  InAriit.  Dr  Ptatu.,  liU 
Ktris,    absinda    abKurdis.    incptii    iiicjitis.    iit       ii  1  [f  l-'W'.  <'d.  l.V)i'i.  —  Ki>  i 
inscititr  minutiKsiinaf  latobras  ve^tigntasi  ex- 

36 


282  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXI 

analysis  suppose?     Manifestly  three  conditions:  1°,  That  no  phae- 

nomenon  be  assumed  as  elementary  wliich  can 
Three  rules  of  psy-       ^^   resolved    into   simpler  principles ;   2%  That 

cliological  analysis.  i  i  i       i      i 

no  elementary  phnenomenon  be  overlooked  ; 
«nd,  3°,  That  no  imaginary  element  be  interpolated. 

These  are  the  rules  Avhich  ought  evidently  to  govern  our  psy- 
chological   analyses.      I    could   show,  however, 
These  have  not  been       ^^lat  these  have  been  more  or  less  violated  in 
©serve     \  p.  >  everv  attempt  that  has  been  made  at  a  determi- 

gists.  •'  1 

nation  of  the  constituent  elements  of  thought ; 
for  philosophers  have  either  stopped  shoit  of  the  primary  phae- 
nomenon,  or  they  have  neglected  it,  or  they  have  substituted 
another  in  its  room.  I  decline,  however,  at  present,  an  articulate 
criticism  of  the  various  systems  of  the  human  powers  proposed 
by  philosophei-s,  as  this  Avould,  in  your  present  stage  of  advance- 
ment, tend  rather  to  confuse  than  to  inform  you,  and,  moreover, 
would  occupy  a  longer  time  than  we  are  in  a  condition  to  afford :  I 
therefore  pass  on  to  a  summary  recapitulation  of  the  distribution 
of  the  cognitive  faculties  given  in  last  Lecture.  It  is  evident  that 
such  a  distribution,  as  the  result  of  an  analysis,  cannot  be  appre- 
ciated until  the  analysis  itself  be  understood ;  and  this  can  only  be 
understood  after  the  discussion  of  the  several  faculties  and  ele- 
mentary ])hjenomena  has  been  carried  through.  You  are,  there- 
fore, at  present  to  look  upon  this  scheme  as  little  more  than  a  table 
of  contents  to  the  various  chapters,  under  which  the  phenomena 
of  knowledge  will  be  considered.  I  now  only  make  a  statement 
of  what  I  shall  subsequently  attempt  to  prove.  The  principle  of 
the  distribution  is,  hoAvever,  of  such  a  nature  that  I  flatter  myself 
it  can,  in  some  measure,  be  comprehended  even  on  its  first  enuncia- 
tion :  for  the  various  elementary  phtenomena  and  the  relative  fJicul- 
ties  which  it  assumes,  are  of  so  notorious  and  necessary  a  char- 
acter, that  they  cannot  possibly  be  refused ;  and,  at  the  same  time, 
they  are  discriminated  from  each  other,  both  by  obvious  contrast, 
and  by  the  fact  that  they  are  manifested  in  different  individuals, 
each  in  very  various  proportions  to  each  other. 

If  a  man  has  a  faculty  of  knowledge  in  general,  and  if  the  con- 
tents of  his  knowledge  be  not  all  innate,  it  is 

vo  u  ion  o    pecjai       evident  that  he  must  have  a  special  faculty  of 

Faculties   of    Kuowl-  ... 

edge  from  Conscious-       acquiring  it,  —  an  acquisitive   faculty.      But  to 

ness.  acquire  knowledge  is  to  receive  an  object  within 

1.  The  Acquisitive       ^^^  sphere  of  our  consciousness;  in  other  words, 

Faculty.  ^  .  .      .  i        i  .  •     j 

to  present  it,  as  existmg,  to  the  knowmg  nnnd. 
This  Acquisitive  Faculty  nuiy,  therefore,  be  also    called  a  Recep- 


].ECT.  XXI.  METAPHYSICS.  283 

tive  or  Presentative  Faculty.  The  latter  term,  Presentative  Fac- 
ulty^ I  use,  as  you  will  see,  in  contrast  and  correlation  to  a  HeprC' 
sentative  Faculty^  of  which  I  am  immediately  to  speak.  That 
the  acquisition  of  knowledge  is  an  ultimate  pha^nomenon  of 
mind,  and  an  acquisitive  faculty  a  necessary  condition  of  the  pos- 
session of  knowledge,  will  not  be  denied.  This  faculty  is  the 
faculty  of  experience,  and  aifords  us  exclusively  all  the  knowledge 
we  }>o88es8  a  posteriori,  that  is,  our  whole  contingent  knowledge, — 
our  whole  knowledge  of  fact.  It  is  subdivided  into  two,  according 
as  its  object  is  external  or  internal.  In  the  former  case  it  is  called 
External  Perception,  or  simply  Perception  ;  in  the  latter,  Internal 
Perception,  Reflex  Perception,  Internal  Sense,  or  more  properly, 
Self-Consciousness.  Reflection,  if  limited  to  its  original  and  cor- 
rect signification,  will  be  an  expression  for  self-consciousness  atten- 
tively applied  to  its  objects,  —  that  is,  for  self-consciousness  con- 
centrated on  the  mental  phaMiomena. 

In  the  second  place,  the  faculty  of  acquisition  enables  us  to 
know,  —  to    cognize    an    object,    when    actually 

II.  The  CoDserva-       p,.f.j^e„ted  within  the  sphere  of  external  or  of 

five  Faculty.  ^  .  t>  •  > 

internal  consciousness.  But  if  our  knowledge 
of  that  object  terminated  when  it  ceased  to  exist,  or  to  exist  within 
the  sphere  of  consciousness,  our  knowledge  would  hardly  deserve 
the  name;  for  what  we  actually  perceive  by  the  faculties  of  external 
and  of  internal  perception,  is  but  an  infinitesimal  part  of  the  knowl- 
edge which  we  actually  i)Ossess.  It  is,  tlierefore,  necessary  that  we 
have  not  only  a  faculty  to  acquire,  but  a  faculty  to  keep  posses- 
sion of  knowledge ;  in  short,  a  Conser\'ative  or  Retentive  P"'aculty. 
This  is  Memory  strictly  so  denominated ;  that  is,  the  simple  power 
of  retaining  the  knowledge  we  have  once  acquired.  This  conserva- 
tion, it  is  evident,  must  be  performed  without  an  act  of  conscious- 
ness, —  the  immense  ])ro))ortion  of  our  ac<juired  and  possessed 
riches  must  lie  beyond  the  sphere  of  actual  cognition.  Wh:it  at 
any  rfioment  we  really  know,  or  are  really  conscious  of,  forms  an 
almost  infinitesimal  fraction  of  what  at  any  moment  we  are  capable 
of  knowing. 

Now,  this  being  the  case,  we  must,  in  the  third  place,  possess  a 

faculty  of  calling  out  of  unconsciousness  into  liv- 
le    I'pro  UC--       jj^^  consciousness  the  materials  laid  up  bv  the 

\\\v  Faculty.  '  .  ,  n-.    •  i« 

conservative  faculty,  or  njemory.  This  act  of 
calling  out  of  memory  into  consciousness,  is  not  identical  with  the 
act  of  conservation.  They  are  not  even  similar  or  proportional  ; 
and  yet,  strange  to  say,  they  have  always,  or  almost  always,  in  the 
analyses    of  philosophers,    Itccn    considered    as    iiiseparal)le.      The 


284  METAPHYSICS. 


Leot.  XXL 


faculty  of  which  this  act  of  revocation  is  the  energy,  I  call  the 
Reproductive.  It  is  governed  by  the  laws  of  Mental  Association, 
or  rather  these  laws  are  the  conditions  of  this  faculty  itself.  If  it 
act  spontaneously  and  without  volition  or  deliberate  intention, 
Suggestion  is  its  most  aj^propriate  name ;  if,  on  the  contrary,  it  act 
in  subordination  to  the  Avill,  it  should  be  called  Reminiscence.  The 
term  Recollection,  if  not  used  as  a  synonym  for  reminiscence,  may 
be  employed  indifferently  for  both. 

In.  the  fourth  place,  the  general  capability  of  knowledge  neces- 
sarily requires  that,  besides  the  power  of  evok- 

IV.  The   Reprcsen-         •  j.      r-  •  . 

tative  Faculty.  "^^  ^^^  ^^  unoonsciousuess  One  portion  of  our 

retained  knowledge  in  preference  to  another, 
we  possess  the  fliculty  of  representing  in  consciousness  what  is  thus 
evoked.  I  Avill,  hereaftei-,  show  you  that  the  act  of  representation 
in  the  light  of  consciousness,  is  not  to  be  confounded  with  the 
antecedent  act  of  reproduction  or  revocation,  though  they  severally^ 
to  a  certain  extent,  infer  each  other.  This  Representative  Faculty 
is  Imagination  or  Phantasy.  The  word  Fancy  is  an  abbreviation 
of  the  latter;  but  with  its  change  of  form,  its  meaning  has  been 
somewhat  modified.  Phantasy,  which  latterly  has  been  little  used,, 
was  em{»loyed  in  the  language  of  the  older  English  philosophers 
as,  like  its  Greek  original,  sti'ictly  synonymous  with  Imagination. 
In  the  fifth  place,  these  four  acts  of  acquisition,  conservation, 
reproduction,   and  representation,  form  a  class 

V.  The  Elaboi-ative  n  (,        ,,.  i-i  ,-.,        ^,.,. 

Pacuity  «i  taculties  which  we  may  call  the  Subsidiary, 

as  furnishing  the  materials  to  a  higher  faculty, 
the  function  of  which  is  to  elaborate  these  materials.  This  elaboi-a- 
tive  or  discursive  faculty  is  Comparison  ;  for  under  comparison 
may  be  comi)rised  all  the  acts  of  Synthesis  and  Analysis,  Generali- 
zation and  Abstraction,  Judgment  and  Reasoning.  Comparison. 
or  the  Elaborative  or  Discursive  Faculty,  corresponds  to  the  Ami^ota 
of  the  Greeks,  to  the  Verstand  of  the  Germans.  This  faculty  is 
Thought  Prof)er;  and  Logic,  as  we  shall  see,  is  the  science  con- 
versant about  its  laws. 

In  the  sixth  place,  the  previous  faculties  are  all  conversant  about 
facts   of  experience,  —  acquired    knowledge,  — 

VI.  The  Regulative         ,  ,     ,  .       .      \  ,,  ,      ,  ,    ' 

Faculty.  knowledge  a  poHtrrutn.     All    such  knowledge 

is  contingent.  But  the  mind  not  only  possesses 
conti;igently  a  great  ap)>aratus  of  a  posteriori,  adventitious,  knowl- 
edge •  it  possesses  necessarily  a  small  complement  of  a  priori, 
native,  cognitions.  These  a  priori  cognitions  are  the  laws  or  con- 
ditions of  thought  in  general ;  consequently,  the  laws  and  condi- 
tions under  which  our  knowledge  a  posteriori  is  possible. 


Lect.  XXI.  METAPHYSICS.  28.5 

By  tlie  way,  you  will  please  to  recollect  these  two  relative  ex- 
pressions.    As  used  in  a  psychological  sense,  a 
Knowledge  a  prion       knowledge  «  ^>06'ier/o>-*  is  a  synonym  for  knowl- 

and    a   jwsUriori,    ex-  .    .      ,  „  *     .  , 

jj^jjjg^j  edge  empirical,  or  trom   experience;  and,  con- 

sequently, is  adventitious  to  the  mind,  as  sub- 
sequent to,  and  in  consequence  of,  the  exercise  of  its  faculties  of 
observation.  Knowledge  a  priori,  on  the  contrary,  called  likewise 
native,  pure,  or  transcendental  knowledge,  embraces  those  princi- 
ples which,  as  the  conditions  of  the  exercise  of  its  faculties  of 
observation  and  thought,  are,  consequently,  not  the  result  of  that 
exercise.  True  it  is  that,  chronologically  considered,  our  a  2)riori 
is  not  antecedent  to  our  a  posteriori  knowledge ;  for  the  internal 
conditions  of  experience  can  only  operate  when  an  object  of  expe- 
rience has  been  presented.  In  the  order  of  time  our  knowledge, 
therefoi-e,  may  be  said  to  commence  with  experience,  but  to  have 
its  principle  antecedently  in  the  mind.     Much  as  has  been  written 

on  this  matter  by  the  greatest  jihilosophers,  this 

Relation    of   our       all-important   doctrine  has   ncser  been  so   well 

knowledge  to  experi        ^^^^^^  ^^^  .^^   ^^^   unknown  sentence  of  an    old 

ence,  —  now   best   ex-  .  . 

prei^ged.  J>nd  HOW  forgottcu    thinker:    "Cognitio   omnis 

a  mente  primam  originem,  a  sensibus  exordium 
habet  primum.'"  These  few  words  are  worth  many  a  modern 
volume  of  ])hilosophv.  You  will  observe  the  felicity  of  the  ex- 
pression. The  whole  sentence  has  not  a  superfluous  word,  and  yet 
is  absolute  and  complete.  JI<'»s,  the  Latin  term  for  vous,  is  the 
best  possible  word  to  express  the  intellectual  source  of  our  a  priori 
pnnciples,  and  is  well  opposed  to  sejisus.  But  the  happiest  con- 
trast is  in  the  terms  ori(/o  and  exordium;  the  former  denoting  pri- 
ority ill  the  order  of  existence,  the  latter  priority  in  the  order  of 
time. 

But  to  return  whence  I  have  diverged.  These  a  priori  prlnci- 
]il('s  form  one  of  the  most  remarkable  and  jK'culiar  of  the  mental 
phasnomena;  and  we  must  class  them  under  the  head  of  a  common 
power  or  ])nnciple  of  the  mind.  This  jiower,  —  what  I  would  call 
the  Regulative  Faculty,  —  concspon<ling  to  the  Greek  vovs  when 
used  as  the  locus  2)J'i}fcipionn)i,  may  be  <lenominated  Reason,  using 
that  word  in  the  sense  in  which*  as  o])posed  to  Reasoning,  it  was 
applied  by  some  of  the  older  P2nglish  writers,  and  by  Kant,  Jacobi, 
and  others  of  the  more  modern  German  ])hilnsophers.  It  may  also 
bo  considi'red  as  equivalent  to  the  term  Oommon  Sense,  iu  the 
more  correct  acceptation  of  this  expression. 

1  [Patricius,  Nova  de  Vnicersh  Philosophia,  p.  l.J 


286  METAPHYSICS 


Lkct.  XXL 


The  general  faculty  of  knowledge  is  thus,  according  to  this  distri- 
bution, divided  into  six  special  faculties:  first,  the  Acquisitive, 
Presentative,  or  Receptive;  second,  the  Conservative;  third  the 
Reproductive;  fourth,  the  Representative;  fifth,  the  Elaborative,- 
and  sixth,  the  Regulative.  The  first  of  these,  the  Acquisitive,  is 
again  subdivided  into  two  faculties,  —  Perception  and  Self-Con- 
sciousness; the  third  into  Suggestion  and  Reminiscence;  and  the 
fifth  may  likewise  admit  of  subdivisions,  into  Conception,  Judg- 
ment, and  Reasoning,  which,  however,  as  merely  applications  of 
the  same  act  in  different  degrees,  hardly  warrant  a  distinction 
into  separate  faculties. 

Having  thus  varied,  amplified,  and  abridged  the  outline  which 

I  gave  you  in  my  last  Lecture  of  the  several 
o'KrX"":::  "onstituents  of  the  cla.s  of  Cognitive  Faoul- 
sidered  in  detail.  ^ics,  I  now  proceed  to  consider  these  faculties 

in  detail. 
Perception,  or  the  consciousness  of  external  objects,  is  the  first 

power  in  order.     And,  in  treating  of  this  faculty, 

I.  The  Presentative       — the  faculty  On  whicli  turns  the  whole  ques- 

Facuity- Perception.       tion  of  Idealism  and  Realism,  — it   is  perhaps 

Historical  survey  of  •        i        ^  i 

hypotheses  in  regard  P^'oper,  m  tlic  first  place,  to  take  an  historical 
to  Perception,  pro-  survey  of  the  hypotheses  of  philosophers  in 
P"*^'^-  regard   to   Perception.     In    doing  this,  I   shall 

particularly  consider  the  views  which  Reid  has 
given  of  these  hypotheses:  his  authority  on  this  the  most  important 
part  of  his  philosophy  is  entitled  to  high  respect ;  and  it  is  requisite 
to  point  out  to  you,  both  in  Avhat  respects  he  has  misrepresented 
others,  and  in  what  been  misrepresented  himself 

Before  commencing  this  survey,  it  is  proper  to  state,  in  a  few 

words,  the  one,  the  principal,  point  in  regard 
The  principal  point       ^^  which  oi)inions  varv.     The  grand  distinction 

m   regard   to   Percej)-  n      i  -i  ^  •        -,    "  . 

tion,  on  which  opin-  '^^  philosophers  IS  detcnmned  by  the  alterna- 
ions  vary.  tive  they  adojDt  on  the  question,  —  Is  our  per- 

ception, or  our  consciousness  of  external  objects, 
mediate  or  immediate  ? 

As  we  have  seen,  those  who  maintain  our  knowledge  of  external 
objects  to  be  immediate,  accept  ijuplicitly  the  datum  of  conscious- 
ness which  gives  as  an  ultimate  fact,  in  this  act,  an  ego  immediately 
known,  and  a  non-ego  immediately  known.  Those  again  who  deny 
that  an  external  object  can  be  immediately  known,  do  not  accept 
one-half  of  the  fact  of  consciousness,  but  substitute  some  hypoth- 
esis in  its  place,  —  not,  however,  always  the  same.  Consciousness 
declares  that  we  have  an  immediate  knowledge  of  a  non-ego,  and 


L*i:CT.  XXI.  METAPHYSICS.  287 

of  an  external  non-ego.    %Now,  of  the  jjhilosophers  who  reject  tliis 
fact,   some    admit    our    immediate    knowledge    of  a   non-ego,   but 

not  of  an  external  non-ego.     They  do  not  Hmit 
Two  grand  hypoth-       ^j^^  consciousness  or  immediate  knowledge  of 

eses    of  Mediate  Per-  ,  .     .  .  ,  ,  .    . 

the   mmd    to   its   own    modes,    but    conceiving 

ception.  '  » 

it  impossible  for  the  external  reality  to  be 
brought  within  the  sphere  of  consciousness,  they  hold  that  it  is 
represented  by  a  vicarious  image,  numerically  different  from  mind, 
but  situated  somewhere,  either  in  the  brain  or  mind,  within  the 
sphere  of  consciousness.  Others,  again,  deny  to  the  mind  not  only 
any  consciousness  of  an  external  non-ego,  but  of  a  non-ego  at  all, 
and  hold  that  what  the  mind  immediately  perceives,  and  mistakes 
for  an  external  object,  is  only  the  ego  itself  peculiarly  modified. 
These  two  are  the  only  generic  varieties  i)ossible  of  the  representa- 
tive hypothesis.  And  they  have  each  their  respective  advantages 
and  disadvantages.  They  both  equally  afford  a  basis  for  idealism. 
On  the  former,  Berkeley  established  his  Theological,  on  the  latter, 
Fichte  his  Anthropological  Idealism.  Both  violate  the  testimony 
of  consciousness,  the  one  the  more  complex  and  the  clumsier,  in 
denying  that  we  are  conscious  of  an  external  non-ego,  though 
admitting  that  we  are  conscious  of  a  non-ego  within  the  sphere 
of  consciousness,  either  in  the  mind  or  brain.  The  other,  the 
simpler  and  more  philosophical,  outrages,  however,  still  more 
flagrantly,  the  veracity  of  consciousness,  in  denying  not  only  that 
we  are  conscious  of  an  external  non-ego,  but  that  we  are  conscious 
of  a  non-ego  at  all. 

Each  of  these  hypotheses  of  a  representative  perception  admits 
of  various  subordinate  hypotheses.      Thus  the 

Each  of  tiK-se  ad-       fomier,  which  holds  that  the  representative  or 

mits  of  various  siibor-         .  ,.  ,  .  .  ...  -t      i-a' 

,.    ^    .       ^.  imm('(hate    oltiect    is   a   tertnon   <iin(L    dmerent 

dinate  hypotheses.  •'  -»  ' 

both  from  llie  mind  and  from  the  external 
reality,  is  subdivided,  according  as  the  immediate  object  is  viewed 
as  material,  as  immaterial,  or  as  neither,  or  as  l)oth,  as  something 
physical  or  as  something  hyperphysical,  as  j)ropagated  IrDui  the 
external  object,  as  generated  in  the  medium,  or  as  fabricated  in 
the  soul  itself;  and  this  latter  either  in  the  intelligent  mind  or  in 
the  animal  life,  as  infused  by  (ioil  or  by  angels,  or  as  identical  with 
the  <livine  substance,  and  so  forth.  In  the  latter,  the  representative 
modification  has  been  regarded  either  as  factitious,  that  is,  a  mere 
product  of  mind  ;  or  as  innate,  that  is,  as  independent  of  any 
mental  energy.  • 

1  See  ReUn  UVriv  Note  C,  p.  816—819  —  Kr 


288  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXI. 

I   must  return  on  this  subject  more   Articulately,  when  I  have 
finished   the   historical   survey.      At   present   I    only  beg  to  call 

your  attention    to  two  facts  which  it  is  neces- 

HiBtorical  survey  of         ^^^.^,  ^^  ^^^^,  -^^  ^j^^^  .  ^j^^  g^.^^.  ^ds  a  mistake 

opinions  III  reKurU  to  '  '^ 

Perception.  ^^  Kcid,  the  sccoud  a  mistake  of  Brown  ;  and  the 

proper  understanding  of  these  Avill  enable  you 
easily  to  apprehend  how^  they  have  both  wandered  so  widely  from 
the  truth. 

lleid,'  who,  as  I  shall  hereafter  endeavor  to  show  you,  probably 

holds  the  doctrine  of  an  Intuitive  or  Immediate 

F{eid  diri  not  (lis-       Perception,  never  generalized,  never  articulately 

tiiiiruishtlR' two  forms  i,t,it,--  ^,  „ 

ot  fho  rqiresentative       ""dcrstood,  the  distmctiou  of  the  two  forms  of 
hvpoti.esii*.  the  Representative  Hypothesis.     This  was  the 

cause  of  the  most  important  errors  on  his  part. 
Ill  the  first  place,  it  prevented  him  from  drawing  the  obtrusive 
.iii^l  vital  distinction  between  Perception,  to  him  a  faculty  imme- 
dinlely  cognitive,  or  presentative  of  external  objects  and  the  facul- 
ties of  Imagination  and  Memory,  in  which  external  objects  can 
only  be  known  to  the  mind  mediately  or  in  a  representation. 

1m  the  second  place,  this,  as  we  shall  see,  causes  him  the  greatest 

perplexity,  and  sometimes  leads  him  into  errors 

Brown's  general  er-  •       ,  •      ,  •    ,  n   .,  ■     .  „ 

,  ,    ,,  .,        m  Ins  history  oi  the  opinions  of  previous  phi- 

ror  in  regard  to  Ueid.  •'  ^  j  ■  ■>- .  .v^no    fjni 

losophers,  in  regard  to  which  he  has,  indepen- 
dently of  thi.s,  been  guilty  of  various  mistakes.  As  to  Brown, 
again,  he  holds  the  simple  doctrine  of  a  representative  percep- 
tion, —  a  doctrine  which  Reid  does  not  seem  to  have  understood  • 
and  this  opinion  he  not  only  holds  himself,  but  attributes,  with  one 
or  two  exceptions,  to  all  modern  philosophers,  nay,  even  to  Reid 
himselfj  whose  philosophy  he  thus  maintains  to  be  one  great  blun- 
der, both  in  regard  to  tlie  new  truths  it  professes  to  establish,  and 
to  the  old  errors  it  professes  to  refute.  It  turns  out,  however,  that 
Brown  in  relation  to  Reid  is  curiously  wrong  from  first  to  last, — 
not  one  of  Reid's  numerous  mistakes,  historical  and  philosophical, 
does  he  touch,  far  less  redargue  ;  whereas  in  every  point  on  which 
he  assails  Reid,  he  himself  is  historically  or  piiilosophically  in  error. 
I  meant  to  have  first  shown  you  Reid's  misrejjresentations  of 
the  opinions  of  other  philosophers,  and  then  to  have  shown  you 
Brown's  misrepresentations  of  Reid.  I  find  it  better  to  effect  both 
purposes  together,  which,  having  now  prepared  you  by  a  statement 
of  Brown's  general  error;  it  will  not,  I  hope,  be  difficult  to  do. 

1  Sec  the  Author's  Discussions,  p.  39,  et  seq.,  and  his  Supplementary  Dissertations  to  Reid, 
Notes  B  and  C  — Ed. 


Lect.  XXI.  METAPHYSICS.  289 

This  being  premised,  I  now  proceed  to  follow  Reid  through  his  his- 
torical view  and  scientific  criticism  of  the  vari- 
Keid'8    historical       qus  theories  of  Perception ;   and  I  accordingly 

view  of  the   theories  .,1       ,1         -i-ji    ,       .  t       ^i  •        1 

,.  „       ^.         „„         commence   with    the   Jrlatonic.      In   this,   how- 

ot    I  erception.       Ihe  _  ' 

riatoiiif.  ever,  he  is  unfortunate,  for  the  simile  of  the  cave 

which  is  applied  by  Plato  in  the  seventh  book 
of  the  Rei)ul)lic,  was  not  intended  by  him  as  an  illustration  of  the 
mode  of  our  sensible  perception  at  all.  "  Plato,"  says  Reid,'  "  illus- 
trates our  manner  of  perceiving  the  objects  of  sense,  in  this  man- 
ner. He  supposes  a  dark  subterraneous  cave,  in  which  men  lie 
bound  in  such  a  manner  that  they  can  direct  their  eyes  only  to  one 
part  of  the  cave :  far  behind,  there  is  a  light,  some  rays  of  which 
come  over  a  \\  all  to  that  part  of  the  cave  which  is  before  the  eyes 
of"  our  prisoners.  A  number  of  persons,  variously  employed,  pass 
between  them  and  the  light,  whose  shadows  are  seen  by  the  pris- 
oners, but  not  the  persons  themselves. 

"•In  this  manner,  that  philosopher  conceived  that,  by  our  senses, 
we  )»erceive  the  shadows  of  thinus  onlv,  and  not  thini^s  themselves. 
He  seems  to  have  borrowed  his  notions  on  this  subject  from  the 
Pythagoreans,  and  they  very  probably  from  Pythagoras  himself 
If  we  make  allowance  for  Plato's  allegorical  genius,  his  sentiments 
oil  this  subject  correspond  very  well  with  those  of  his  scholar 
Aristotle,  and  of  the  Peripatetics.  The  shadows  of  Plato  may 
very  well  represent  the  species  and  phantasms  of  the  Peripatetic 
school,  and  the  ideas  and  impressions  of  modern  philosopliers." 

Ileid's  account  of  the  Platonic  theory  of  perception  is  utterly 
wrong.'-      Plato's  simile   of  the   cave   he   com- 

Heid  wrong  in  ro-       plctcly  misap]>rehends.      By  liis   cave,  images, 

gani  to  the  riatonic       and  shadows,  this  philosojiher  intended  only  to 

eorjr  o    pci-cp])  lon,       illustrate  the  s?reat  principle  of  his  philosophy, 

and       misapiiii'lR-iKis  . 

Piato'8  simile  oi  the  that  the  Sensible  or  ectypal  world,  —  the  world 
cavp.  plirenomenal,  transitory,  ever  becoming  but  never 

being  (tiet  yiyi'o/Ltci'oi',  fxr^SeTrore  oi')^  stands  to  the 
noetic  or  archetypal  world,  —  the  world  suljstaiitial,  permanent 
(0VTW9  w),  ill  tlie  same  relation  of  comparative  unreality,  in  which 
the  shadows  of  tlie  images  of  sensible  existences  themselves,  stand 
to  the  objects  of  which  they  are  the  dim  and  distant  a<luml)fations. 
Tlie   Platonic  theory  of  these  two  worlds  and   their  relations,  is 

accurately   stated    in   some    splendid    verses   of 

Fracastorlus  quoted.  *.  1         n       •  •  ^--      -i 

1  racastorius,  —  a  poet  harilly  interior  to  Virgil, 
and  a  philosopher  far  superior  to  his  age. 

1  Works,  p.  262.  —  Ed.  2  See  the  Author's  note,  ReitTs  Worlct,  p.  262.  —  E». 

37 


290  METAPHYSICS.  LeoT.  XXI. 

"  An  nescis,  qusEcunque  heic  sunt,  quis  hac  nocte  tej;untur 
Omnia  res  prorsus  veras  non  esse,  sed  umbras, 
Aut  specula,  unde  ad  nos  aliena  elucet  imago? 
Terra  quidem,  et  maria  alta,  atque  his  circumfluus  aer 
Et  quaj  consistunt  ex  iis,  hver  omnia  tenueis 
Sunt  umbri«,  humanos  qua?  tanquam  somnia  qusedam 
Pertingunt  animos,  fallaci  et  imagine  ludunt, 
Nunquam  eadem,  fluxu  semper  variata  perennl. 
Sol  autem,  Lunaque  globus,  fulgentiaque  astra 
Coetera,  sint  quamvis  meliori  prajdita  vita, 
Et  donata  xvo  immortali,  ha;c  ipsa  tamen  sunt 
jEterni  specula,  in  qua  animus,  qui  est  inde  profectus, 
Inspiciens,  patriae  quodam  quasi  tactus  amore, 
Ardescit.    Verum  quoniam  heic  non  perstet  et  ultra 
Nescio  quid  sequitur  secum,  tacitusque  requirit, 
Nosse  licet  circum  hffic  ipsum  consistere  verum 
Non  finem :  sed  enim  esse  aliud  quid,  cujus  imago 
Splendet  in  iis,  quod  per  se  ipsum  est,  et  priucipium  esse 
Omnibus  ajternum,  ante  omnem  numerumque  diemque; 
In  quo  alium  Solem  atque  aliam  splendescere  Lunam 
Adspicias,  aliosque  orbes,  alia  astra  manere, 
Terramque,  fluviosque  alios,  atque  aera,  et  ignem, 
Et  nemora,  atque  aliis  en-are  animalia  silvis."i 

Now,  as  well  might  it  be  said  of  these  verses,  that  they  are  in- 
tended to  illustrate  a  theory  of  perception,  as  of  Plato's  cave.  But 
not  only  is  Reid  wrong  in  regard  to  the  meaning  of  the  cave,  he  is 
curiously  wrong  in  regard  to  Plato's  doctrine,  at  least  of  vision. 
For  so  far  was  Plato  from  holding  that  we  only  pei'ceive  in  conse- 
quence of  the  representations  of  objects  being  thrown  upon  the  i>er- 
cipient  mind, —  he,  on  the  contrar}-,  maintained,  in  the  I'imceus,-  that, 
in  vision,  a  percii)ient  power  of  the  sensible  soul  sallies  out  towards 
the  object,  the  images  of  Avhich  it  carries  back  into  the  eye,  —  an 
opinion,  by  the  way,  held  likewise  by  Empedocles,'*  Alexander  of 

1  These  lines  are  fjiven  in  tlie  Author's  note,  rfo,  lib.  v.  t'f.  Empedodis  Fra^mentn,  ed.  Sturz, 
ReifP>i  Works,  p.  262,  and  occur  in  the  Carmen  p.  410.  Stallbaum,  In  Plat.  Timm/»i.  p.  45. 
ad  M.  Antonium  Flaminium  et  Galeatium  Flori-  Burateleus  tlius  s^f  ates  Plato's  doctrine  of  vis- 
montium —  Opera,  Venet.,  1584,  f.  206.  —  Ed.  ion  :  "  Visionem  Plato  fieri  sentlt  ut  oculi  ex 

2  P.  45. — Ed.  se  naturam  quandam  lucidam  habeant,  ex 

3  "  Visionem  fieri  per  extramii^ionnn  "  (as  qna  visi\i  radii  effluentes  in  extremam  seris 
opposed  to  iha  intromissionem  of  Democritiis,  lucem  ohjecta?  ivi  imaginem  adducant,  et  in 
Leucippus,  and  Epicurus),  "  ait  Enipedocles,  *  animo  reprasentent,  ex  qua  reprasentatione 
cui  et  Hipparchus  astipulatus  est,  ita,  ut  radii  fit  visus  '" —  Ibid.  Of  Leo  Hebr«us,  De  Amore, 
exeuntes  quasi  manu  comprehendant  ima-  Dial.  iii.  Clialcidius,  In  Timaum  Platonif,  p, 
gines  rerura  qvx  visionis  sint  effectrices."  388  See  Buriiardus,  Seminaruim  PhilosophxA 
Gabriel  Buratellus,  An  Visio  Fiat  Extramiiten-  PUitonirrf,  p.  922.  —  Ed 


Lect.  XXI.  METAPHYSICS.  291 

Aphrodisias,^  Seneca,-  Chalfidius,''  Euclid,^  Ptolemy/  Alchindus,'^  Ga- 
len,' Lactantius,'*  and  Lord  Monboddo.'' 

The  account  wliich   Reid  gives  of  the  Aristotelic  doctrine  is, 

likewise,  very  erroneous.     "Aristotle  seems  to 

Keid'.  acco.int   of       j^^^.^.    thought    that    the    soul    consists    of    tM«» 

the     Aristotelic     doc- 

jrj,,^.  parts,  or  rather  that  we  have  two  souls,  —  the 

animal  and  the  rational ;  or,  as  he  calls  them,  the 
soul  and  the  intellect.  To  the  /!)'.■<(  belong  the  senses,  memory  and 
imagination;  to  the  la.'it,  judgment,  opinion,  belief,  and  reasoning. 
The  first  we  have  in  common  with  brute  animals;  the  last  is  pecu- 
liar to  man.  The  animal  soul  he  held  to  be  a  certain  form  of  the 
body,  which  is  inseparable  from  it,  and  j)erishes  at  death.  To  this 
soul  the  senses  belong ;  and  he  defines  a  sense  to  be  that  which  is 
capable  of  receiving  the  sensible  forms  or  species  of  objects,  without 
any  of  the  matter  of  them ;  as  wax  receives  the  form  of  the  seal 
without  any  of  the  matter  of  it.  The  forms  of  sound,  of  color,  of 
taste,  and  of  other  sensible  qualities,  are,  in  a  manner,  received  by 
the  senses.  It  seems  to  be  a  necessary  consequence  of  Aristotle's 
doctrine,  that  bodies  are  constantly  sending  forth,  in  all  directions, 
as  many  different  kinds  of  forms  without  matter  as  they  have  dif- 
ferent sensible  qualities ;  for  the  forms  of  color  must  enter  by  the 
eye,  the  forms  of  sound  by  the  ear,  —  and  so  of  the  other  senses. 
This,  accordingly,  was  maintained  by  the  followers  of  Aristotle, 
though  not,  as  far  as  I  know,  expressly  mentioned  by  himself. 
They  disputed  concerning  the  nature  of  those  forms  of  species, 
whether  they  were  real  beings  or  nonentities ;  and  some  held  them 
to  be  of  an  interme<liate  nature  between  the  two.  The  wliok-  doc- 
trine of  the  Peripatetics  and  schoolmen  concerning  forms,  sulistan- 
tial  and  accidental,  and  concerning  the  transmission  of  sensible 
species  liom  objects  of  sense  to  the  mind,  if  it  be  at  all  intelligible, 
is  so  far  above  my  comprehension  that  I  should  perha])S  do  it  injus- 
tice by  entering  into  it  more  minutely."'" 

In  regard  to  the  statement  of  the  I*eripatetic  doctrine  of  species, 

I    In  Arisi.  I)r  Sfn\ii,  f.  95.  96,  edit.  ,\I(1.    The  r    I)'   Pine.  Hippocratis  tt  Platonis,  lib.  vii.  C. 

('oniiiil)iicon.>ii's  ri'for  to  tlii' (|irol)iil>ly  .>^liiiri-  .')(vol.  v    p.  21.'),  edit.  CliartitT).  —  Kr>. 
oii>)   Prnh:r„iai<i,  (lib.  i.   5  ,17,  J.ut.  tr.  o9,  fd.  «  jj^  Opificio   Ihi,  c.  viil.      Oi>rra,  ii.   (edit 

Aid.)—  Kd.  1784),  where  Lactantiiif,  moreover,  denies  tl»» 

■^  ^"nturaliiim    Qua-stionum,    lib.    i     c     5-7.  noccssity  of  visual  spccii-.s.     Stn- Cotiimbricon. 

'^^  se.e,  an  abovi",  mul  o(>ni|iari'  .stnllbaumN  note 

3  In  TimfFiiin   P/ntnnh,  p.  338.  Cf.  p.  329  ft  ^„  ,,„.  r(,/i/7i».  p.  4.'..  H.  — Kl.. 
sfq.,  (edit.  Levdi'ii.  lt)17).  — El). 

4  See  ('oiiiinbrici'use.s,  /„  I)r  A„ima,  lib.  ii.  "  Antlf.m   yhlapJii/sirs,  vol.  i.  book  ii    rhap 
c.  vii.  <i.  5,  art.  i   p.  231.  (edit.  1629).  —  Ed.  "  P-  '-''l-    *^ '    '^'"'i""  "'"'  P*-"?'"'  "/  I^^'^"^' 

5  See  roninibricense,«.  ibi,l.  — En.  "»"'•  '•  P  26,  (2d  edit.)  — Ed. 

»j  See  Conimbriccnsies,  i6iV7.  —  Ed.  lo  Coll.  Works,  p.  20~.  —  Ed. 


292 


METAPHYSICS. 


Leci.  X-Xi. 


I  must  observe  that  it  is  correct  only  as  applied  to  the  doctrine 

taufjlit  as  the  Aristotelic  in  the  schools  of  the 
Omiy  partially  cor-       niicldle  u^es ;  and  even  in  these  schools  there  was 
'**'*  a  large  party  who  not  only  themselves  disavowed 

the  Avhole  doctrine  of  species,  but  maintained  that  it  received  no 
countenance  from  the  authority  of  Aristotle.^     This  opinion  Is  coi- 
rect ;  and  I  could  easily  prove  to  you,  had  we  time,  that  there  \: 
nothing  in  the  metaphorical  expressions  of  eUo^  and  tvttos,  which 
on  one  or  two  occasions,  he  cursorily  uses,^  to  warrant  the  attribv 
tion  to  him  of  the  doctrine  of  his  disciples.     This  is  ever,  sxpressiy 


1  [See  Durandus,  In  Sent.,  lib.  ii.  dist.  iii. 
y.  6.  i  9:  '  Spec.es  originaliter  introduct.-E 
videntur  esse  propter  sensum  visus,  ct  sensi- 

bilia  illius  sensus Sed  quia  quidam 

credunt  quod  species  colons  in  ociilo  represen- 
tat  visui  colorem,  cujus  est  species,  ideo  po- 
nunt  iu  intellectu  quasdam  species  adrepre- 
sentandum  res  ut  cognoscantur. 

«  10:  "Hoc  autem  lion  reputo  verum  nee 
in  sensu  nee  in  intellectu.  Et  quod  non  sit 
ponere  speciem  in  nen.'ni.  patet  sic:— Omne 
illud  per  quod  tanquam  per  representativum 
potentia  cognitiva  fertur  in  alterum  est  primo 
cognitum;  sed  species  colons  in  oculo  non 
est  primo  cognita  seu  visa  ab  eo,  immo  nullo 
modo  est  ri.va  ah  eo  ;  ergo,  per  ipsam  tanquam 
per  representativum,  visus,  non  fertur  in  al- 
iquid  aliud. 

5  11:  "Quamvis  enim  color  imprimat  in 
medio  et  in  oculo  suam  speciem  propter  simi- 
lem  dispositionem  diaphaneitatis  quae  est  in 
eis.  ilia  tamen  nihil  fecit  ad  visionem,  neque 
visui  representat  colorem  ut  videatur. 

i  21 :  "  Seusibilia  secundum  praesentia  sen- 
sui  cognoscuiitur  per  sen.sum,  puta  omnia 
colorata.  et  omnia  lucentia,  qua;  secundum 
se  pra'sentialiter  objiciuntur  visui,  statim  vi- 
dentur, quia  unum  est  visivum  et  aliud  vwt6i>, 
propter  quod,  eis  approximati.s.  statim  sequi- 
tur  vitio,  a  quocunque  sit  (fit?)  effective.  Et 
similiter  est  de  aliis  Sensibus"  Durandus 
thus  reduces  .^pcriVs  to  the  physical  impression 
of  the  external  object,  which  is  unknown  to 
the  mind,  and  not  like  the  object.]  [See 
Conimbricenses,  In  De  Anima,\ih.  ii.  c.  vi.  Q. 
2,  p.  188.  The  Conimbricenses  refer  besides 
to  Occam,  Gregory  (Arimiiiensis),  and  Biel, 
among  the  schoolmen,  as  concurring  with 
Durandus  on  this  point.  The  doctrine  of 
species  was  also  rejected  by  the  Nominalists. 
See  Toletus,  In  De  Aninm,  lib.  ii.  c.  xii  f  109, 
<edit.  1594.)  Cf.  Plotinus,  Ennead,  iv.  lib.  iii. 
c.  xxvi.  p.  391.  (edit.  Basle,  1516):  Tl  odv  ;  e« 
avrr]  ixiv  fj.vriuovfr)fi,  rni  Se  fv  trajjuaTi  fli/at, 
'."y  fi^  Ko^apa  flyat'  oAA'  fierxep  iroKD^iiaa 


afafxa.TTfO'bai    Svpa-rcu  rovj   ~w.-    oitrdrfid 
rvirovs,  Kol  rh  olof  ehpav  *'«-  "i^  aiouan  irpo, 
rb  iTapaS€Xf(^^cn,  Kcd  urj  wffnei/  rratradlnit' 
'AA.A.O  TTpwTov  W€^  oi  rinroi,  ol  utye^'  oiiS' 
<ti(Tnep  ai  eycrOpayiaeis,  ou5'   avrfpsLcets,  f) 
rvTTwcreis,  art  /u^jS'  u^iffuhs'   urjS*  Zovzi-  iv 
KTip'Z,  oAA'  S  TpoTTos  olov  v6rj<Tis,  Kcu  iia  '■(iy 
alff^ruu.     See  also  Galen,  De  Plaatis  Hippo 
craiis  et  Platonis,  lib.  vii.  c    ix      It  should  bo 
observed,  however,  that  the  great  majority  Ci 
the  schoolmen  attributed  species  both  to  th^ 
external  and  internal  senses,  and  held  thai 
this  was  the  doctrine  of   Aristotle      lb  this 
class  belong  Aiiselm.  John  oi  Damascus.  Au 
gustin,  Aquinas,  Alenais,  Albertut  Magnui 
Bonaventura,  Scotus.  Argentinas.  Kichardus 
Capreolus,  Marsilius,  Hervaeos  anO  iJCgidiui 
See  Conimbricenses,  In  De  Ammo,,  p  192.  ant; 
Toletus,  In  De  Anima,  ^  109    -£jD. 

2  See  De  Anima,  lib  ii.  c  xii  ■:  i,  jediL 
Trend.):  Ko^oAou  Se  irtoi  tcmttjs  awdiiarew:: 
5«r  A.ajSfii'  oTi  T]  fxey  oltrdijcris  iaii,  rh  Sskti 
Khv  Twv  aiVdrjTaJi'  flSaii'  Scev  ttjs  t/\'t)5,  olot 
6  Krjphs  Tov  SaKTvXiov  &vev  rov  CiS/ipoi  KO; 
Tov  xpvfov  Se'xfrat  rb  cniaeiov,  Aaix&dye-  re 
rh  YoixroCi'  J)  ^h  ;taAKoCi'  ar\fj.fiov^  AAA'  oirx_ 

rj  XP""'^^  *0  xa^f'^s-  '^   ^-  ^      '*''■'     "'  '^-  " 
S  3.  4 :  Tb  yap  ala^T)rripiov  SeicrtHift  tov  aXa 
brtrav  Hffv  ttjs-  v\v^  (Kaxr-^oV  6i6  km  iuKeX 
^ovToiv  "rwv  aia^f)rS)v  eveKTiv  ou  LU(r^(rei. 
KoX  <t)avrafflai  (v  to7s  cu'tr &TjTT)ptots.       H  Se 
TOV  al(TSfTjTov  fffpyeia  xal  -rfjs  aiffditaews  ■" 
avT7]  fxiv  fO-Ti  KOI  /ui'a,  rh  5'  elvai  oi    ravrh-^ 
avTOis.      Cf.   De  Memoria  et   Remmiscentia,  ^ 
i  ,  and  De.  An.,  lib.  ii.  c.  iv.;  lib    iii.  c  viii- 
Ed.     [On  Aristotle's  doctrine  in  these  t», 
sages;  see  Gassendi.  Symai;    I'Mos.  Jrnyscca, 
iii.,  Mem  Post.  lib.  vi.  c.  i;    r>pera.t  ii  p  3-3t- 
(edit.  165P).    Cf  Ihid..  p.  33?,  and  t.  ;.  t>.  443, 
t.  iii    p.  467;  Piccolomiui.    Si   Phys..  p.  133S, 
Zabarella,  De  Rebus  Naturatibus,  p  i89-  Libe: 
De    Speciehus    Intelligibilious ;     Deviuemand.A 
Seeptirismus   Debellntus,  C.  xxiv.  p.  165.1     !*-■- 

Reid's  Works,  p.  827.  note  —En.] 


Lect.  XXI. 


METAPHYSICS. 


293 


maintained  by  several  of  liis  (ircek  eonunentators,  —  as  the  Apliro- 
disian,^  Michael  Ephesius,^  and  Philoponus.''  In  fact,  Aristotle  ap- 
pears to  have  held  the  same  <loctrine  in  regard  to  perception  as 
Reid  himself.     He  was  a  natural  realist.^ 

Reid  gives  no  account  of  the  famous  doctrine  of  perception  lield 

by  Epicurus,  and  which   that   philosopher   had 

Theory  of  Democri-       borrowed  from  Democritus,  —  namely,  that  the 

tu8      and      Epicurus,  ^^    .        ,     ,,.  .  .  .         , 

omitted  by  Reid.  €i6wAa,  aToppoiau,  nii<i(/nie.%  .mnvi((cra  rermn,  etc., 

are  like  jtellicles  continually  flying  oft'  from  ob- 
jects; and  that  these  material  likenesses,  dift'using  themselves  every- 
where in  the  air,  are  propagated  to  the  perceptive  organs.  In  the 
Avords  of  Lucretius,  — 

"Qua;,  quasi  ]Ck'nil)raiia%  suinniode  eoiticc  rcnini 
Dereptjfi  volitant  ultio  citroque  per  auras.""' 

Raid's  statement  of  the  Cai-tesian  doctrine  of  perception  is  not 


1  [In.  Df  Anima,  lib.  i.  f.  13Ga,  (edit.  Aid. 

1.T.34):   XpTJ  St  ToD  TVTTOU    KOiv6rfpOV   fVJ  Tijy 

'iioKToffias  a.Kov(iv'  KVplui  ixiy  yap  tkttos, 
rh  KaT  ('ktoxV"  "^^  f*^  ^^OX^*'-  *H  tJ»  rov 
rvTTovvros  iv  rw  rvTrov/xei/cp  crx^M"  7i>'<Jm*" 
fOf,  Sis  ipwfi.(v  TO  iirl  Twv  atppayiStjiv  ixovra. 
OiiX  ovTdi  5t  TO  airh  tu>v  ala^rwv  iynara- 
KeifiiJLara  yivfrai  tv  ti/jl7v.  OiiSe  yap  ttji/ 
apxv"  KOTO  (rx^f^^  ^j  tj  rwy  alff^Tuv  avri- 
Krt^ffii.  Tltuov  yap  (TxhH-"'  "^^  KfVKhi/,  fi 
UKus  rh  xpt^/^o"  ^  irolof  <rx7j/io,  7;  otTfiy.  'A\- 
\a  Si  aTTopiaf  Kvpiou  Ttkhs  6i'6fiaTos,  rh  tx''os 
Kcd  4yKaTa\rifipa  rb  inropitvov  kith  tuv  altr- 

i&-7JTa>l'    4v  illMP    TXTKOV    KoKoVfJifVOV    /HfToOf- 

povTfs  Todvofia.]  l<'t".  Ihit/.,  lib.  i.  f.  KiV': 
'\wh  tUv  4vfpy(twt>  7WV  trfpl  to  ^ia^ra, 
olot'  Tirwoy  Tifo  Ka\  iLva^wypat>7)fia  iv  toS 
Trpu>T<fi  oiVr^TyTTjpio)  ....  fii^woTt  Sf  oiix  o 
Tiriroj  oiTos  rj  (payratTia,  oAAo  r]  TTfpl  rhf 
rxnrov  oi/rov  tTjs  ^avTaffTiKr]^  Svvap,ft»s  iv- 
fpytia.  Tlic  AplirodiKiun  is  literally  followed 
by  Theniintiii.s  In  Df  3Ir»ioria  tt  liemiiitsrrnlin, 
c.  i.  f.  '.Hy>;  cf.  also  th«  Fame,  In  De  .4riimn,  lib. 
ii.  c.  vi.  f  f.  18a,  8.3",  aS"  %'>,  (edit.  Aid.  15.34); 
aud  by  Simon  t>imoniu».  In  De  Memoria  ft 
nfminifcfntia,  c  i.  ^  12,  14,  p.  290-91,  (edit. 
156<i).  —  Ed. 

■-'  [In  De  Mrmoria  nt  Retninixenlia,  I'roosm,] 
[fol.  127h,  (edit.  1527).  — Ed.] 

•"■  In  Df  Anifna,  lib.  ii.  c.  v.  text  62:  Avva- 
^jy  5*  iffTi  ^h  ala^TfriKby  oloy  rh  aiCT^r}rhi> 
Kara  rr)v  Stvrtpav  Svvaiiiv  ov  yap  ira^ivra' 
ovSt  im'  ivayrias  i^fai?  ixfra&aKKov  dfioiov- 
rat  avrtf).  'AAXa  rb  tlSos  ax/rov  Sf^dufyov 
«vx  iis  i'Atj  aiiTov  •yty6ixfyov,  ouSt  yap  Ah/wtj 


yivfrai  i)  aia^ais  Sf^ojueVjj  rb  flSos  rov 
at(TdT]rov.  Alb  ovSt  irciiTx^iy  oiiSt  aWoiuva- 
Aai  Kvpiws  Ktyfrai,  aWa  rhv  Kbyov  rov 
fibous  yvtaiar iKws  iy  iavrfj  Sfxafifyr].  "Cia- 
Tffp  yap  rby  K-qpbv  ipa/xfy  Svyafifi  (Ivai  iiirfp 
rbv  SaKrvKioy.  Ai6ri  ira^ooy  inr'  aiirov  ylyf- 
rai  OTTfp  4ariv  iK(ivo%  iyfpytia-  oii  rrjv  uAt/i' 
ouToG  Sf^d/xtvos,  oAAo  u6yoy  to  tlSos.  Ovrw 
Kol  r)  aXabT)(Tis  ira^ovaa  virb  rwy  aicr^ruy 
TO  €'57/  aurwv  acTw/xarwi  ava/xaTrfrai.  Aia- 
(pfpfi  Sf,  iiri  6  fxfy  Kripbs  avrbs  v\rt  yiytrai 
rov  fiSovs  rov  ty  r<j>  SaKrvKity-  rj  5'  atadrj— 
<rij,  ovx  v\t)  yiyfrai  rov  aicrdiiTov-  oAAo 
yvcaxrriKwi  rjjy  iScov  avrov  iKixarrtrai. 
"Ex*!  Sf  ri  irKfov  r)  aXnbriffi^  vapa  rby  Kr)p6v 
6  fxiy  HTjpbs  yap  fi  koI  liKr)  yiyerai  rov  (iSovs 
rov  fy  r<p  5oicti)Ai'o>,  oAAa  oi)  Si  '6\oy  ainov 
SfX^Toi  rb  fiSos,  oAA'  ^irnroA^s-  i)  fxty 
rni  oiVi^TWTj  Svvau.1%  oKrj  Si  oAtjs  (,"a'T«(f^y 
Tos  rwv  alcTdrtTwy  iwofidrrfrai  iSfas.  <"•". 
76irf.,  c.  xii.  t.  121.  In  this  parage  Philo|Kv 
uu.t  clost^ly  approximates  to  the  dcKtriiie  of 
the  riatoiiists,  as  expounded  by  Pri^cianun 
Lydn.-;,  according  to  which,  jHTCcptidn  take's 
place  on  condition  of  an  a^^similation  between 
tlie  living  organ  and  the  object,  by  means  of 
forms  and  immaterial  rea-^ons  (koto  t^  tiSif 
Kol  rovs  \ityovs  &yfv  ttjs  uAtjj.  )  .See  M*tu- 
<Ppaais  rov  Sfo<ppd(rrov  Tltpl  Aia^atwi, 
c.  i.  (Version  of  Kiciiius,  s.  i.  fi  ifq.),  and 
Rfiil's  HofiK.  p.  2t2.  note.  —  Ed. 

<  See  above,  p.  205,  note.  —  En. 

,■;  Lib.  iv.  ,35.  So  quoted  in  the  Author^ 
Discussions,  p.  71.  but  the  u'ual  reading  i< 
rotporr,  not  rorticf.  —  Kd. 


294  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXI. 

exempt  from  serious  error.     After  giving  a  long,  and  not  very  accu- 
rate, account  of  the  philosophy  of  Descartes  in 
Keids  statement  of       general,   he    proceeds  :  —  "  To    return   to   Des 

the  Cartesian  doctrine  .,.,>,  ^  •    • 

of  Perception.  C  artcs  s  notions  or  the  manner  ot  our  perceivuig 

external  objects,  from  -which  a  concern  to  do  jus- 
tice to  the  merit  of  that  great  reformer  in  philoso]»hy  has  led  me  to 
digress,  he  took  it  for  granted,  as  the  old  philosophers  had  done, 
that  what  we  immediately  perceive  must  be  either  in  the  mind 
itself,  or  in  the  brain,  to  Avhich  the  mind  is  immediately  present. 
The  impressions  made  upon  our  organs,  nerves,  and  brain,  could  be 
notliing,  according  to  his  philosophy,  but  various  modifications  of 
extension,  figure,  and  motion.  There  could  be  nothing  in  the  brain 
like  sound  or  color,  taste  or  smell,  heat  or  cold  ;  tliese  are  sensations 
in  the  mind,  which,  by  the  laws  of  the  union  of  soul  and  body,  are 
raised  on  occasion  of  certain  traces  in  the  brain  ;  and  although  he 
gives  the  name  of  ideas  to  these  traces  in  the  brain,  he  dots  not 
think  it  necessary  that  they  should  be  j)erfectly  like  to  the  things 
which  they  represent,  any  moi:e  than  that  Avords  ov  signs  .should  re- 
semble the  things  they  signify.  But,  says  he,  tliat  we  may  follow 
the  received  opinion  as  far  as  is  possible,  we  may  allow  a  slight 
resemblance.  Thus  we  know  that  a  print  in  a  book  may  represent 
houses,  temples,  and  groves ;  and  so  far  is  it  from  being  necessai-y 
that  the  print  should  be  perfectly  like  the  thing  it  represents,  that 
its  perfection  often  requires  the  contrar}-;  for  a  circle  must  often  be 
represented  by  an  ellipse,  a  square  by  a  rliombus,  and  so  of  other 
things.         ........... 

"  The  writings  of  Des  Cartes  have,  in  general,  a  remarkable  de- 
gree of  perspicuity ;  and  he  undoubtedly  intended  that,  in  this  par- 
ticular, his  philosophy  should  be  a  perfect  contrast  to  that  of 
Aristotle;  yet,  in  what  he  has  said,  in  different  parts  of  his  writ- 
ings, of  our  perceptions  of  external  objects,  there  seems  to  be  some 
obscurity,  and  even  inconsistency  ;  whether  owing  to  his  having 
liad  different  opinions  on  the  subject  at  different  times,  or  to  the 
diftic'ulty  he  found  in  it,  I  will  not  pretend  to  say. 

"There  are  two  points,  in  jiartioular,  wherein  I  cannot  reconcile 
him  to  himself:  the  Jirst,  regarding  the  place  of  the  ideas  or  images 
of  external  objects,  a\  hich  are  the  immediate  objects  of  perception ; 
the  second,  with  regard  to  the  veracity  of  our  extenial  senses. 

"  As  to  the  Jirsf,  he  sometimes  places  the  ideas  of  material  objects 
in  the  brain,  not  only  when  they  are  perceived,  but  when  they  are 
remembered  or  imagined ;  and  this  has  always  been  held  to  be  the 
Cartesian  doctrine ;  yet  he  sometimes  says,  that  we  are  not  to  con- 
ceive the  images  or  traces  in  the  brain  to  be  perceived,  as  if  there 


Lect.  XXI.  M  E  T  A  PHYSICS.  295 

were  eyes  in  the  brain;  these  traces  are  only  occasions  on  which,  by 
the  laws  of  the  union  of  soul  and  body,  ideas  are  excited  in  the 
mind ;  and,  tlierefore,  it  is  not  necessary  tliat  there  should  be  an 
exact  resemblance  between  the  traces  and  the  things  represented 
by  them,  any  more  than  that  words  or  signs  should  be  exactly  like 
the  things  signilied  by  them. 

"These  two  opinions,  I  think,  cannot  be  reconciled.  For,  if  the 
images  or  ti'aces  in  the  brain  are  perceived,  they  must  be  the 
objects  of  perception,  and  not  the  occasions  of  it  oidy.  On  the 
other  hand,  if  they  are  only  the  occasions  of  our  perceiving,  they 
are  not  perceived  at  all.  Descartes  seems  to  have  hesitated  be- 
tween the  two  opinions,  or  to  have  passed  from  the  one  to  the 
other."! 

I  have  quoted  to  you  this  passage  in  order  that  I  may  clearly 
exhibit  to  you,  in  the  first  place,  Keid's  misrepresentations  of  Des- 
cai.yis;  and,  in  the  second.  Brown's  misrepresentation  of  Reid. 

In  regard  to  the  former,  Keid's  jirincipal  error  consists  in  charg- 
,     ing  Descartes  with  vacillation  and  inconsistency, 

Cardinal  principle       ,jjj,|  },^  possibly  attributing  to  him  the  opinion 

of  the  Cartesian  plii-  .  /»        i  •    i         i 

losophy.  ^"^^   ^"^    representative    object    or    which    the 

mind  is  conscious  in  perception,  is  soniething 
material,  —  something  m  the  brain.  This  arose  from  his  ignorance 
of  the  fundamental  princii»le  of  the  Cartesian  doctrine.-  By  those 
not  possessed  of  the  key  to  the  Cartesian  theory,  there  are  many 
j>assages  in  tlie  writings  of  its  author  wliich,  taken  by  themselves, 
might  naturally  be  construed  to  import,  that  Descartes  supposed 
the  mind  to  be  conscious  of  certain  motions  in  the  brain,  to  which, 
as  well  as  to  the  modifications  of  the  intellect  itself,  he  a)>plies  the 
terms  imaqc  and  idea.  Keid,  who  did  not  understand  the  Carte- 
sian })hilosophy  as  a  system,  was  j)uzzled  by  these  superficial  ambi- 
guities. Not  aware  that  the  cardinal  point  of  that  system  is,  that 
mind  and  body,  as  essentially  oj>]iosed,  are  naturally  to  each  other 
as  zero;  and  that  their  mutual  intercourse  can,  therefore,  only  be 
su])ernatura]ly  maintained  by  the  concourse  of  the  Deity,  Keid 
was  led  into  the  error  of  attributing,  by  possibility,  to  Descartes, 
tlie  opinion  that  the  soul  was  immediately  cognizant  of  material 
images  in  the  brain.  But  in  the  Cartesian  theory,  mind  is  only 
con.scious  of  itself;  the  afifections  of  body  may,  by  the  law  of  union, 
be  proximately  the  occasions,  but  can  never  constitute  the  immc- 


1  /ntf7/fr<uo/Pow^r.'«,  Essay  ii.  chap.  viii.  VnO        in  the  Author's  article  on   Reid  and  Browft. 
'Workf,  p.  272.  See  Discuisions,  p.  72.  —  Ed. 

a  The  foUowiug  remarks  have  been  printed 


296  METArHYSICS.  Lect.  XXI 

(liate  objects,  of  knowledge.     Reid,  however,  supposing  that    noth- 
ing  coukl    obtain   the   name   of  image,  which 
Twofold  use  of  the       ^^- j  ^^^  represent  a  prototype,  or  the  name  of 

term  idea  by  Descar-  ■,  •      ^      n  j.\  i  .         in 

j^g  irtea,  Avhich  was  not  an  object  oi  thought,  wholly 

misinterpreted  Descartes,  who  applies,  abusively 
indeed,  these  terms  to  the  occasion  of  perception,  that  is,  the 
motion  in  the  sensorium,  unknown  in  itself,  and  representing  noth- 
ing; as  well  as  to  the  object  of  tliought,  that  is,  the  representa- 
tion of  which  we  are  conscious  in  the  mind  itself.  In  the  Leib- 
nitzio-Wolfian  system,  two  elements,  both  also  denominated  ideas^ 
are  in  like  manner  accurately  to  be  contradistinguished  in  the 
process  of  perception.  The  idea  in  the  brain,  and  the  idea  in  the 
mind,  are,  to.  Descartes,  precisely  what  the  '■'■material  idea''''  and 
the  "  sensual  idea  "  are  to  the  Wolfians.  In  both  philosoptiies,  the 
two  ideas  are  harmonic  modifications,  correlative  and  coexistent; 
but  in  neither  is  the  organic  affection  or  sensorial  idea  an  object  of 
consciousness.  It  is  merely  the  unknown  and  arbitrary  condition 
of  the  mental  representation ;  and  in  the  hypothesis,  both  of 
Assistance  and  of  Preestablished  Harmony,  the  presence  of  the 
one  idea  implies  the  concomitance  of  the  other,  only  by  virtue  of 
the  hyperphysical  determination. 


LECTURE    XXII. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE    FACULTY. 

1.  I'KKCKPTION. UEId'S    HISTORICAL  VIEW    OF    THK    THEORIKS  OF    PERCEPTIO*. 

In  our  last  Lecture,  after  reeapituluting,  with  varied  illustrations, 
the    Distribution    of  the    Cognitive    Faculties, 

Kc-capitulation.  i'ititt         -ii  •  i         x 

whi(!h  1  had  detaued  to  you  in  tlie  Lecture 
Before,  I  entered  upon  the  particular  consi<leration  of  the  Sj^ecial 
Faculties  themselves,  and  comnicnced  Avith  that  which  stands  first 
in  order,  and  whic^h  I  had  denominated  the  Acquisitive,  or  Recep- 
tive, or  Presentative.  And  as  this  faculty  is  again  subdivided  intO' 
two,  according  as  it  is  conversant  either  about  the  pluncnomena  of 
matter,  or  about  tlie  pha3nomena  of  mirid,  tlie  non-ego,  or  the  ego, 
I  gave  precedence  to  the  former  of  these,  —  the  faculty  known 

under  the  name  of  External  Perception.  Per- 
The   doctrine   oi        ceptiou,   as   matter   of  psychological   considera- 

Verception  a  cardiiiiil  .  .         ,.     ,  ■,  •    ■,  •        "      .  •  i  • 

.  .  .    „. .,       .  tion,  IS  ot  the  very  hiijhest  nnportancc  in  pin- 

point in  Philosophy.  '  .'        c»  i  i 

losoj)hy;  as  the  doctrine  in  regard  to  the  object 
and  operation  of  this  faculty  affords  the  immediate  data  for  de- 
termining the  great  question  touching  the  existence  or  non-exist- 
ence of  an  external  world ;  and  there  is  hardly  a  problem  of  any 
moment  in  the  whole  compass  of  ])hilosoj»hy,  of  which  it  does  not 
mediately   affect   the   solution.     'I'lie    doctrine    of  perception    may 

thus  be  viewed  as  a  cardinal  point  of  philoso- 
it*  place  in  the  phi-         .^      j^  j^  .^j^^   oxclusivelv  in   relation  to  this 

losopliy  of  Keiil.  '      •  ,*.         ,  .  1  •       ]• 

faculty,  that  livul  nnisl  claim  his  great,  his  dis- 
tinguishing glory,  as  a  philoso))]ier ;  ami  of  tlii>  no  one  was  more 
conscious  than  himself.  "  Tlu'  iiifiit,"  he  says,  in  a  letter  to  Dr. 
James  Gregory,  "  of  what  you  are  pleased  to  call  my  philosophy, 
lies,  I  think,  chiefly  in  having  called  in  (luestitm  the  common  theory 
of  ideas  or  images  of  things  in  the  miml  being  the  only  objects  of 
thought  —  a  theory  founded  on  natural  jirijudices,  and  so  univer- 
.sally  received  as  to  be  interwoven  with  the  structure  of  language." 
"I  think,"'  he  adds,  "there  is  hardly  anything  that  c:ui  be  called 
science  in  the  ]>hilosoj»hy  of  tin    iniiitl.  \\  liidi   docs  not  follow  wit.\j 

36 


298  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXU. 

ease  from  the  detection  of  this  prejudice."'  The  attempts,  there 
fore,  among  others,  of  Priestley,  Gleig,  Beasley,^  and,  though  last 
not  least,  of  Brown,  to  slio\v  that  Reid  in  his  refutation  of  the 
previous  theoiy  of  perception,  was  only  fighting  with  a  shadow 
—  was  only  combating  philoso2:)hers  who,  on  the  point  in  ques- 
tion, really  coincided  with  himself,  would,  if  successful,  prove  not 
merely  that  the  philosophical  reputation  of  Reid  is  only  based 
upon  a  blunder,  but  would,  in  fact,  leave  us  no  rational  conclusion 
short,  not  of  idealism  only,  but  of  absolute  skepticism.  For,  as 
1  have  shown  you,  Brown's  doctrine  of  jjcrception,  as  founded  on 
a  refusal  of  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  our  knowledge  of  an 
external  world,  virtually  discredits  consciousness  as  an  evidence  at 
all;  and  in  place  of  his  system  being,  as  its  author  confidently 
boasts,  the  one  "which  allows  the  skeptic  no  place  for  his  foot  — 
no  fulcrum  for  the  instrument  he  uses,"  —  it  is,  on  the  contrary, 
pei'haps  the  system  which,  of  all  others,  is  the  most  contradictory 
and  suicidal,  and  which,  consequently,  may  most  easily  be  devel- 
oped into  skepticism.  The  determination  of  this  point,  is,  there- 
fore, a  matter  affecting  the  ^ital  interests  of  philosophy ;  for  if 
Reid,  as  Brown  and  his  coadjutors  maintain,  accomplished  nothing, 
then  is  all  philosophical  reputation  empty,  and  philosophy  itself  a 
dream. 

In  preparing  you  for  the  discussion  that  was  to  folloAv,  I  stated  to 
you  that  it  would  not  be  in  my  power  to  main- 

ei     p  11  osop  iica  -       tain  Reid's  absolute  immunity  from  error,  either 

ly  and  hi8tonca!ly,uot         .  .  .  .  ..... 

free  from  errors.  "^  ^^^^  philosophical  or  in  his  historical  views; 

on  the  contrary,  I  acknowledged  that  I  found 
him  frequently  at  fault  in  both.  His  mistakes,  however,  I  hope  to 
show  you,  are  not  of  vital  importance,  and  I  am  confident  their  ex- 
posure Avill  only  conduce  to  illustrate  and  confiim  the  truths  which 
he  has  the  merit,  though  amid  cloud  and  confusion,  to  have  estab- 
lished. But  as  to  Brown's  elaborate  attack  on 
But  Brown's  criti-       j^^^.^^]^  —  ^]^[^^  J  1^.^^.^  j^q  hesitation  in  asserting, 

•ijni   of  Reid  wliolly  ,  ,  ^  ,     .        .  ,  , 

^J.^^^^„  to  be  not  only  unsuccesshil  in  its  results,  but 

that  in  all  its  details,  without  a  single,  even  the 
most  insignificant,  exceotion,  it  has  the  fortune  to  be  regularly  and 
curiously  wrong.  Reid  h^d  errors  enough  to  be  exposed,  but 
Brown  has  not  been  so  lucky  as  to  stumble  even  upon  one.  Brown, 
however,  sung  his  paean  as  if  his  victory  were  complete ;  and,  what 

1  Cotkcted  Work^,  p.  88.  —  Ed.  7th  edit. ;  Beasley,  Search  of  Truth  in  the  Science 

2  See  Priestley,  Examination  of  Reid,  Beat-  of  the  Human  Mind,  book  ii.  c.  iii.  p.  123  tt 
tie,  and  Oswald,  sect,  iii.:  Bishop  Gleig,  art.  seg.  Cf.  cc.  ir.  v-  vi.  (Philadelphia,  U.  St 
atrtnphysia    Ennjc.  Briiaii  ,  vol    xiv.  p    604,  1822.)  — Ed. 


Lect.   XXII.  METAPHYSICS.  299 

is  singular,  he  found  a  general  chorus  to  his  song.  Even  Sir  James 
Mackintosh  talks  of  Brown's  triumphant  exposure  of  Reiki's  marvel- 
lous mistakes. 

To  enable  you  provisionally  to  understand  Reid's  errors,  I  showed 

you   how,  holding   himself   the  doctrine    of   an 

General   source  of       intuitivB   or   immediate  perception    of  external 

Keid's errors, —  wliich  ,  .  i        tt  i  i  -,  . 

however,  are  compar-  ^^'/'l^'^'  '^<^/^^^   "<^t  SCO  that   the  COUUter   doctmie 

ativeiy  unimportant.         of  a  mediate    or  representative    perception  ad- 

mitte<l  of  a  subdivision  into  two  forms,  —  a  sim- 
pler and  a  more  complex.  The  simpler,  that  the  immediate  or  rep- 
resentative object  is  a  mere  mo<lification  of  the  percipient  mind, — 
the  more  complex,  that  this  rejiresentative  object  is  something  dif- 
ferent both  from  the  realitv  and  from  the  mind.  Ilis  itiiiorance 
of  these  two  forms  has  caused  him  great  confusion,  and  introduced 
much  subordinate  error  into  his  system,  as  he  has  often  confounded 
the  simpler  form  of  the  representative  hypothesis  with  the  doctrine 
of  an  intuitive  perception ;  but  if  he  be  allowed  to  have  held  the 
essential  doctrine  of  an  immediate  j)erception,  his  errors  in  regard  to 
the  various  forms  of  the  rej)resentative  hypothesis  must  be  viewed 
as  a<!cidental,  and  comparatively  unimportant. 

Brown's  errors,  on  tlie  contrary,  are  vital.     In  the  first  place,  he 
is  fundamentallv  wrong  in  holding,  in  the  teeth 

Brown's  errors  vital.  .  '  ,  ,,.. 

oi  consciousness,  that  the  mind  is  incapable  of 
an  immediate  knowledge  of  aught  but  its  own  modes.  He  adoi>ts 
the  simpler  form  of  a  representative  ])erception.  In  the  second 
place,  he  is  wrong  in  reversing  Reid's  whole  doctriius  by  attributing 
to  him  the  same  opinion  on  this  ])oint  which  he  himself  maintains. 
In  the  third  })lace,  he  is  wrong  in  thinking  that  Reid  only  attackeil 
the  more  complex,  and  not  the  more  dangerous,  form  of  the  repre- 
sentative hypothesis,  and  did  not  attack  the  hypothesis  of  rejire- 
sentation  altogether.  In  the  fourth  place,  he  is  wrong  in  supposing 
tliat  modern  philosophers  in  general  held  the  simpk-r  form  of  the 
representative  hy))oth«'sis,  and  that  Ifeid  was,  therefore,  mistaken  in 
s\i])p<ising  tlu'in  to  maintain  the  mon-  complex,  —  mistaken,  in  fact, 
in  supposing  them  to  maintain  a  doctrine  different  from  his  own. 
Having  thus  juvpared  you  for  the  subse(juent  discussion,  I  j)ro- 

ceedcd  to  consider  IJcid's  historical  account  of 

<  loiieral  cliaractrr  cf 
i!.i,i>    historical   a< ■        ''"'    "I"i"ons  oil    IVrccptKUi    liel.l    by  previous 

count  of  philoKophicat        ])liilosophers.     TIlis  liistoHcal  account   is    with- 

opinionH    on   I'.rci'i.-        ,„,,  ,„.,j,.,.^  .,,,,|  ;,t  oiicc  redundant  and  imperfect. 

tion.  fP,,  -  .  ,  ■ 

1  he  most  important  (loctnne.H  are  altogether 
omitted ;  of  others  the  stati'iiieiit  is  repeated  over  and  over  in 
different  places,  and  yet  never  compU'tely  dune  at  last;  no  clirono 


300  MKTAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIL 

logical  siiccossion,  no  scientific  arrangement,  is  followed,  and  with 
all  this  the  survey  is  replete  with  serious  mistakes.  Without,  there- 
fnre,  following  Reid's  confusion,  I  took  up  the  opinions  on  which 
he  touched  in  the  order  of  time.  Of  these  the  first  was  the  doctrine 
of  Plato ;  in  regard  to  which  I  showed  you,  that  Reid  was  singu- 
iarly  erroneous  in  mistaking  what  Plato  meant  by  the  simile  of  the 
cave.  Then  followed  the  doctrine  of  Aristotle  and  his  school,  in 
relation  to  whom  he  was  hardly  more  <'orrect.  Did  oui*  time  allow 
me  to  attempt  a  history  of  the  doctrines  on  perception,  I  could  show 
you  that  Aristotle  must  be  presumed  to  have  held  the  true  opinion 
in  regard  to  this  fiiculty ; '  l)ut  in  resj)ect  to  a  considerable  number 
of  the  Aristotelic  schoolmen,  I  could  distinctly  prove,  not  only  that 
the  whole  hypothesis  of  species  was  by  them  rejected,  but  that,  their 
hitherto  neglected  theory  of  perception  is,  even  at  this  liour,  the 
most  philoso])hical  that  exists.-  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  that, 
on  this  point,  they  are  incomparably  superior  to  Reid  :  for  while  lie 
excuses  Brown's  misinterpretation,  and,  indeed,  all  but  annihilates 
his  own  doctrine  of  perception,  by  placing  that  power  in  a  line  with 
imagination  and  memory,  as  all  tacultics  immediately  cognizant 
of  the  reality ;  they,  on  the  contrary,  distinguish  Perception  as  a 
faculty  intuitive.  Imagination  and  Memory  as  faculties  representa- 
tive of  their  objects. 

Following  Reid  in  his  descent  to  modern  philosophers,  I  showed 
you  how,  in  consequence  of  his  own  want  of  a  systematic  knowledge 
of  the  Cartesian  philosophy,  he  had  erroneously  charged  Descartes 
with  vacillation  and  contradiction,  in  sometimes  placing  the  idea  of 
a  representative  image  in  the  mind,  and  sometimes  jilacing  it  in  the 
brain. 

Such  is  the  error  of  Reid  in  relation  to  Descartes,  which  I  find  it 

necessary  to   acknowledge.     But,  on  the  other 

Reid   right  in  su{>-       hand,  I  must  defend  him  on  another  point  from 

podngthat  Descarte«       Brown's  charge  of  having  not  only  ignorantlv 

held  the  more  complex  .  "-  "^.  i  i 

hypothesis  of  Repre-  misuiidcrstood,  but  of  having  exactly  reversed, 
sentativererception.  the  notorious  doctrine  of  Descartes ;  in  suppos- 
ing that  this  philosopher  held  the  more  complex 
hypothesis  of  a  representative  perce|)tion,  Avhich  views  in  the  repre- 
sentative image  something  different  from  the  min<l,  instead  of  hold- 
ing, with  Reid  himself  and  Brown,  the  simpler  hypothesis,  which 
views  in  this  image  only  a  mode  of  the  percipient  mind  itself. 

Now  here  you  must  observe  that  it  would  not  be  enough  to  con- 
vict Reid  and  to  justify  Brown,  if  it  were  made  out  that  the  fbrmer; 

I  .See  p.  205,  and  p.  202  et  seq.  —  Ed. 

■i  8e6  above,  p.  292  e«  «?.,  and  below,  p.  316.  —'Ed. 


Lect.   XXII.  METAPHYSICS.  301 

was  wrong,  the  latter  right,  in  their  statement  of  Descartes'  opinion; 
and  I  might  even  liold  with  Brown  that  Descartes  had  adopted  the 
simpler  theory  of  rej)resentation,  and  still  vindicate  Reid  against 
his  reproach  of  ignorant  misrepresentation,  —  of  reading  the  ac- 
knowledged doctrine  of  a  philosopher,  whose  perspicuity  he  himself 
admits,  in  a  sense  "  exactly  the  reverse  "  of  truth.  To  determine 
with  certainty  what  Descartes'  theory  of  perception  actually  is,  may 
be  difficult,  j)erhap8  impossible.  It  here  suffices  to  show  that  his 
opinion  on  the  point  in  question  is  doubtful,  —  is  even  onc!  mooted 
among  his  disciples  ;  and  that  Brown,  wholly  unacquainted  with  the 
doubts  and  difficulties  of  the  problem,  dogmatizes  on  the  basis  of  a 
single  passage  of  Descartes, — nay,  of  a  passage  Avholly  irrelevant 
to  the  matter  in  dispute.  The  opinion  attributed  by  Keid  to  Des- 
cartes is  the  one  which  Avas  almost  universally  held  in  the  Cartesian 
school  as  the  doctrine  of  its  founder ;  and  Arnauld  is  the  only  Car- 
tesian who  adopted  an  opinion  upon  perception  identical  with 
Brown's,  and  Avho  also  assigned  that  opinion  to  Descartes.  The 
doctrine  of  Arnauld  was  long  regarded  throughout  Europe  as  a 
paradox,  original  and  peculiar  to  himself. 

Malebranche,'  the  most  illustrious  name  in  the  school,  after  its 
founder,  and  who,  not  certainly  with  less  ability, 

Malcbraiiciie   cited       ^^^^y  |^^.  supposed  to  have  studied  the  writings 

ill    regard  to  opinion  /.  ^  .  •   ,      ^  j-  ^i 

of  Descartes  *^'^  '^^^   master  With   far  greater    attention    tlian 

either  Reid  or  Brown,  ridicules,  as  "contrary 
to  common  sense  and  justice,"  the  supposition  that  Descartes  had 
rejected  ideas  in  "the  ordinary  acceptation,"  and  adopted  the 
hypothesis  of  their  being  representations,  not  really  distinct  from 
their  perception.  And  while  he  "was  certain  as  he  j^ossibly  can 
be  in  such  matters,"  that  Descartes  had  not  dissented  from  the 
general  doctrine,  he  taunts  Arnauld  with  resting  his  j)aradoxical 
interpretation  of  that  philosopher's  doctrine,  "  not  on  any  passages 
of  his  ]Metaphysics  contrary  to  the  'common  oj)inion,'  but  on  his 
own  arbitrary  limitation  of  'the  ambiguous  (ciiii  perception.' "- 
That  ideas  are  "found  in  the  mind,  not  finiied  by  it,"  and,  conse- 
(juently,  that  in  the  act  of  knowledge,  the  ri'presentation  is  really 
<listinct  from  the  cognition  jn-oper,  is  strenuously  asserted  as  the 
doctrine  of  his  master  by  the  Cartesian  Riicll.'  in  the  controversy 
he  maintained  with  the  anti-Cartesian  De  Vries.  But  it  is  idle  to 
multiply  ]u-oofs.  l^rown's  charge  of  ignorance  falls  back  upon 
himself;    and    Reid    may    lightly   bear    the    reproach    ot'  "exactly 

1   (liven  in  2)/.«ri(.wV»is,  p.  74.  —  Ed.  •''  Cf.   Rbell,   Disserlaticmrs   Phitnsophiiyr,  i    t 

-  Rqponsf  an  Livre  drs  Hem,  passim.  —  Au-       43:  iii.  J  40.  —  Ed. 
NAULD,  CEuvres,  xxxviii.  pp.  338,  389. 


302  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXll 

reversing"  the  notorious  doctrine  of  Descartes,  when  thus  borne 
along  with  him  by  the  profoundest  of  that  philosopher's  disciples, 

Malebranche  and  Arnauld  are  the  next  philosophers,  in  chrono- 
logical order,  of  whom  Reid  speaks.     Concerning 

Reid'8  account  of       ^j^^  former,  his  statements,  though  not  comi)lete, 

the  opinion  of  Male-  •  t  i  a     -r-v 

branche.  Cannot   be   considered   as   erroneous;    and   Dr, 

Brown,  admitting  that  Malebranche  is  one  of 
the  two,  and  only  two  modern  philosophers  (Berkeley  is  the  otlier) 
who  held  the  more  complex  doctrine  of  representation,  of  course 
does  not  attempt  to  iiccuse  Reid  of  misrepresentation  in  reference 
to  him.  One  error,  however,  though  only  an  historical  one,  Reid 
does  commit,  in  regard  to  this  philosopher.  He  explains  the 
polemic  which  Arnauld  Avaged  with  Malebranche,  on  the  ground 
of  the  antipathy  between  Jansenist  and  Jesuit.  Now  Malebranche 
was  not  a  Jesuit,  but  a  priest  of  the  Oratory. 

Tu  treating  of  Arnauld's  opinion,  we  see  the  confusion  arising 

from    Reid's    not    distinctly    apprehending    the 

Reid  confused  in       ^^^^    f^j.j^^    ^£   ^j^^   representative    hvi)othesis. 

his     account    of    tlie  itiii  i  i^  j-i"^im 

view  of  Aniauid.  Arnauld  iicid,  and  was  the  nrst  oi  tlie  philoso- 

})hers  noticed  by  Reid  or  Brown  who  clearly 
held  the  simpler  of  these  forms.  Now,  in  his  statement  of  Arnauld's 
doctrine,  Reid  was  perjilexed,  —  was  puzzled.  As  opposing  the 
philosophers  Avho  maintained  the  more  complex  doctrine  of  repre- 
sentation, Arnauld  seemed  to  Reid  to  coincide  in  o]iinion  with 
himself;  but  yet,  though  he  never  I'ightly  understood  the  simpler 
doctrine  of  i-epresentation,  he  still  feels  that  Arnauld  did  not  hold 
with  him  an  intuitive  perception.  Dr.  BroAvn  is,  therefore,  wrong 
in  asserting  that  Reid  admits  Arnauld's  opinion  on  perception  and 
his  own,  to  be  identical.'  "  To  these  authors,"  says  Dr.  Brown, 
"whose  opinions  on  the  subject  of  perception  Dr.  Reid  has  miscon- 
ceived, I  may  add  one  whom  even  he  himself  allows  to  have 
shaken  off  the  ideal  system,  and  to  have  considered  the  idea  and 
the  perception  as  not  distinct,  but  the  same,  —  a  modification  of 
the  mind,  and  nothing  more.  I  allude  to  the  celebrated  Jansenist 
writer,  Arnauld,  who  maintains  this  doctrine  as  expressly  as  Dr. 
Reid  himself,  and  makes  it  the  foundation  of  his  argument  in  his 
controversy  with  Malebranche."-  If  this  statement  be  true,  then 
is  Dr.  Brown's  interpretation  of  Reid  himself  correct.  A  repre- 
sentative percei)tion  under  its  third  and  simplest  modification,  is 
aeld  by  Arnauld  as  by  Brown;  and  his  exposition  is  so  clear  and 
articulate  that  all  essential  misconception  of  these  doctrines  is 
precluded.     In  these  circumstances,  if  Reid  avow  the  identity  of 

1  See  Discussions,  p  76.  —  Ed  2  Lect.  xxvii.  173  (edit.  1830). 


Lect.  XXn.  METAniYSICS.  ')0:i 

Arnaukl's  opinion  and  his  own,  tliis  avowal  is  tantamount  to  a 
declaration  that  his  peculiar  doctrine  of  perception  is  a  scheme  of 
representation ;  whereas,  on  the  contrary,  if  he  signalize  the  con 
trast  of  their  two  opinions,  he  clearly  evinces  the  radical  antithesis, 
and  his  sense  of  the  radical  antithesis,  of  his  doctrine  of  intuition, 
to  every,  even  the  simplest,  form  of  the  hypothesis  of  ie]»rcsenta. 
tion.     And  this  last  he  does. 

It  cannot  be  maintained,  that  Reid  admits  a  philosopher  to  hold 
an  opinion  convertible  with  his  own,  whom  he 

Reid  not  satisfied       ^^^^t^s  to  "  profcss  the  doctrine,  universally  re- 

with   Arnauld's  opiii-  •        t        ,  •  .  ,      •    i     ,  /  • 

ceived,  that  we  perceive  not  material  things 
immediately,  —  that  it  is  their  ideas  that  are  the 
immediate  objects  of  our  thoughts,  —  and  that  it  is  in  the  idea  of 
everything  that  we  ])erceive  its  properties.'"'  This  fundamental 
contrast  being  established,  we  may  safely  allow  that  the  original 
misconception,  which  caused  Reid  to  overlook  the  difference  of 
our  intuitive  and  representative  faculties,  caused  him,  likewise,  to 
believe  that  Arnauld  had  attempted  to  unite  two  contradictory 
theories  of  percei>tion.  Not  aware  that  it  was  possible  to  main- 
tain a  doctrine  of  percej)tion  in  which  the  idea  was  not  really 
distinguished  from  its  cognition,  and  yet  to  hold  that  the  mind 
had  no  immediate  knowledge  of  external  things:  Reid  su])poses, 
in  the  first  i)lace,  that  Arnauld,  in  rejecting  the  hypothesis  of  ideas, 
as  representative  existences,  really  distinct  from  the  contemplative 
act  of  percej>tion,  coincided  with  him  in  viewing  the  material  reality, 
as  the  immediate  object  of  that  act;  and,  in  the  second,  that  Ar- 
nauld again  deserted  this  opinion,  when,  with  the  i)hilosophers, 
he  maintained  that  the  idea,  or  act  of  the  mind  representing  the 
external  reality,  and  not  the  external  reality  itself,  was  the  imme- 
diate object  of  percei)tion.  Aniaulifs  theory  is  one  and  indivisi- 
ble; and,  as  such,  no  part  of  it  is  identical  with  Reid's,  Reid's  con- 
fusion, here  as  elsewhere,  is  exjilained  l>y  the  tircumstance,  that  la- 
had  never  speculatively  conceived  the  possibility  of  the  simplest 
modification  of  the  representative  hypothesis.  He  saw  no  medium 
between  rejecting  ideas  as  something  different  from  thought,  and 
his  own  doctrine  of  an  in\me<liate  knowledge  of  the  materiid  object. 
Neitiier  does  Arnauld,  as  Reid-  sui»poses,  ever  assert  against  Male- 
branche,  "that  we  perceive  external  things  immediately,"  that  is,  in 
themselves:  maintaining  that  all  our  jierceptions  are  modifications 
essentially  rei)resentative,  he  everywhere  avows,  that  he  denies 
ideas,  only  as  existences  distinct  from  the  act  itself  of  perception." 

1  InUUfctital  Powrrs,  Essay  ii.  cli.  xiii.     CoU.  3  (Euvrrs,  torn.  x.\xviii.  187,  198,  199,  38» 
Works,  p.  2'.>5.                                                                   [See  DisrussioHS.  y>.  77.  —  Kd.J 

2  Ibid.,  p.  296. 


B04  METAPHYSICS. 


Lect.  XXII. 


Re'id  was,  therefore,  wrong,  and  did  Arnauld  less  than  justice,  in 
viewing  hi.s  theory  "  as  a  weak  attempt  to  reconcile  two  inconsistent 
doctrines :  "  he  was  wrong,  and  did  Arnauld  more  than  justice,  in 
supposing  that  one  of  these  doctrines  was  not  incompatible  with  his 
own.  The  detection,  however,  of  this  error  only  tends  to  manifest 
more  clearly,  how  just,  even  when  under  its  influence,  was  Reid's 
appreciation  of  the  contrast,  subsisting  between  his  own  and  Ar- 
nauld's  opinion,  considered  as  a  whole ;  and  exposes  more  glaringly 
Brown's  general  misconception  of  Reid's  philosophy,  and  his  present 
gross  misrepresentation,  in  aftirming  that  the  doctrines  of  the  two 
philosophers  Avere  identical,  and  by  Reid  admitted  to  be  the  same. 

Locke  is  the  philosopher  next  in  order,  and  it  is  principally  against 
Reid's  statement  of  the  Lockian    doctrine   of 

Keid  on  Locke.  .  . 

Kleas,  that  the  most  vociferous  clamour  has  been 
raised,  by  those  who  deny  that  the  cruder  form  of  the  representative 
hypothesis  was  the  one  prevalent  among  philosophers,  after  the 
decline  of  the  scholastic  theory  of  species ;  and  who  do  not  see 
that,  though  Reid's  refutation,  from  the  cause  I  have  already  no- 
ticed, was  ostensibly  directed  only  against  that  cruder  foi'm,  it  was 
virtually  and  in  effect  levelled  against  the  doctrine  of  a  represen- 
tative perception  altogether.  Even  supposing  that  Reid  was  wrong 
in  attributing  this  particular  modification  of  the  representative 
hypothesis  to  Locke,  and  the  philosophers  in  general,  —  this  would 
be  a  trivial  error,  provided  it  can  be  shown  that  he  was  opposed 
to  every  doctrine  of  perception,  except  that  founded  on  the  fact 
of  the  duality  of  consciousness.  But  let  us  consider  whether 
Reid  be  really  in  error  when  he  attributes  to  Locke  the  opinion  in 
question.  And  let  us  first  hear  the  charge  of  his  opponents.  Of 
these,  I  shall  only  particularly  refer  to  the  first  and  last,  —  to  Priestley 
and  to  Brown,  —  thougli  tlie  same  argument  is  confidently  main- 
tained by  several  other  philosophers,  in  the  interval  between  the 
publications  of  Priestley  and  of  Brown. 

Priestley  asserts  that  Reid's  whole  polemic  is  directed  against  a 

])hantom  of  his  own  creation,  and  that  the  doc- 

Priestiey  quoted  on       ^,.5,^^^  ^^.  .^^^.^^  ^^^^-^^^  j^^  conibats  was  never  seri- 

Keid's  view  of  Locke's 

<,pinion.  ously  maintained  by  any  philosopher,  ancient  or 

modern.  "Before,"  says  Priestley,  "Dr.  Reid 
had  rested  so  much  upon  this  argument,  it  behooved  him,  I  think,  to 
have  examined  the  strength  of  it  a  little  more  carefully  than  he 
seems  to  have  done;  for  he  appears  to  me  to  have  suffered  himself 
to  be  misled  in  the  very  foundation  of  it,  merely  by  philosophei-s 
happening  to  call  ideas  images  of  external  things ;  an  if  this  teas 
not  known  to  he  a  figurative  expressio7i  denoting,  not  that  the  actual 


lirown     coiiicidcM 


Lkct.  XXII.  METAPHYSICS.  305 

shapes  of  things  were  delineated  in  the  l)rain,  or  upon  tlie  mind,  hut 
only  that  impressiens  of  some  kind  or  other  were  conveyed  to  the 
mind  by  means  of  the  organs  of  sense  and  their  corresponding 
nerves,  and  that  between  these  impressions  and  the  sensations  exist- 
ing in  the  mind,  there  is  a  real  and  necessary,  though  at  present  an 
unknown,  connection."^ 

Brown  does  not  go  the  length  of  Priestley ;  he  admits  that,  in 
more  ancient  times,  the  obnoxious  opinion  was  prevalent,  and  allows 
even  two  among  modern  philosophers,  Malebranche  and  Berkeley,  to 
have  been  guilty  or  its  adoption.  Both  Priestley  and  Brown  stren- 
uously contend  against  Reid's  interpretation  of 
the  doctrine  of  Locke,  who  states  it  as  that  phi- 

with   Priestley  in  ceu-  ,  ,       ,  .     .  . 

siiriiig  Reid's  view  of  losopher  s  opinion,  "that  images  of  external  ob- 
Locke's opinion.  jccts  Were  Conveyed  to  the  brain;  but  whether 

he  thought  with  Descartes  [lege  omnino  Dr. 
Clarke]  and  Newton,  that  the  images  in  the  brain  are  perceived  bj 
the  mind,  there  present,  or  that  they  are  imprinted  on  the  mind  it- 
self, is  not  so  evident."^ 

^  This, Brown,  Priestley,  and  others,  pronounce  a  flagrant  misrep- 
resentation. Not  only  does  Brown  maintain  that  Locke  never  con- 
ceived the  idea  to  be  substantially  different  from  the  mind,  as  a 
material  image  in  the  brain  ;  but,  that  he  never  supposed  it  to  have 
an  existence  apart  from  the  mental  energy  of  which  it  is  the  object. 
Locke,  he  asserts,  like  Arnauld,  considered  the  idea  ]>erceivc<l  and 
the  percipient  act,  to  constitute  the  same  indivisible  modification  of 
the  conscious  mind.     This  we  shall  consider. 

In  his  language,  Locke  is  of  all  philosojjhcrs  the  most  figurative, 
ambiguous,  vacillating,  various,  and  even  contra- 

Generai   character       ^ictorv ;  as  has  been  noticed  by  Reid  and  Stew- 

of  Locke's  pliilosophi-  '  . 

cai  style  art,  and  Brown  himself,  —  indeed,  we  believe,  by 

every  j)hilosopher  M'ho  has  liad  occasion  to  an- 
imadvert on  Locke.  The  opinions  of  such  a  Avriter  are  not,  there- 
fore, to  be  assumed  from  isolated  and  casual  expressions,  which 
themselves  recpiire  to  be  interpreted  on  the  general  analogy  of  the 
system  ;  and  yet  this  is  the  only  ground  on  which  Dr.  Brown  at- 
tempts to  establish  his  conclusions.  Thus,  on  the  matter  uiidci-  dis- 
cussion, though  really  distingnisliing,  Locke  verbally  confounds,  tho 
objects  of  senst'  and  of  ])urc  intellect,  the  operation  and  its  object, 
the  objects  inunediate  and  mediate,  the  object  and  its  relations,  tho 
images  of  fancy  and  the  notions  of  the  understanding.     Conscioua- 

1   RnnarIcA  on  Krirl,  R-atlie,  and  OsieaUI.  i,  .3.  'J  Inteliectual   Powrrs,   Kssay   ii.  ch.   iv.  Co<'.. 

(p.30,  2d  edition).     On  I'riestley.sco  Stewart,       irori.t,  p.  25fi. 
Phil.  Sstays,  Note  II,  Works,  vol.v.  p.  422  —Ed.  3  See  Diiciusinns.  p.  7)i.  —  Ed. 

39 


806  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXII 

ness  is  converted  with  Perception;  Perception  with  Idea;  Idea 
with  the  object  of  Perception,  and  with  Notion,  .Conception,  Phan- 
tasm, Representation,  Sense,  Meaning,  etc.  Now,  his  langnage 
identifying  ideas  and  perceptions,  appears  conformable  to  a  disciple 
of  Ai-nanid  ;  and  now  it  proclaims  him  a  follower  of  Democritus 
and  Digby,  —  explaining  ideas  by  mechanical  impulse  and  the  prop- 
agation of  material  particles  from  the  external  reality  to  the  brain. 
In  one  passage,  the  idea  would  seem  an  organic  affection, —  the 
mere  occasion  of  a  spiritual  representation  ;  in  another,  a  represen- 
tative image,  in  the  brain  itself  In  em])loying  thus  indifferently 
the  language  of  every  hypothesis,  may  we  not  suspect  that  he  was 
anxious  to  be  made  responsible  for  none  ?  One,  however,  he  has 
foiTnally  rejected,  and  that  is  the  very  opinion  attributed  to  him  by 
Dr.  Brown,  —  that  the  idea,  or  object  of  consciousness  in  perception, 
is  only  a  modification  of  the  mind  itself. 

I  do  not  deny  that  Locke  occasionally  employs  expressions,  which, 
in  a  writer  of  more  considerate  language,  would 

The  interpretation  imply  the  identity  of  ideas  with  the  act  of 
adopted  by  Brown  of       knowledge  ;    and,   under   the    circumstances.    I 

Locke's    opinion,    ex-  i        i  i    i  -it  •  i 

,.  .^,  ,    ,.  ,  ,       should  have  considerec    suspense  more  rational 

phcitly     contradicted  i 

by  Locke  himself.  than  a  dogmatic  confidence  in  any  conclusion, 

did  not  the  following  passage,  which  has  never, 
I  believe,  been  noticed,  afford  a  2)ositive  and  explicit  contradiction 
of  Dr.  Brown's  interpretation.  It  is  fi-om  Locke's  Examination  of 
Malebranche^ s  Opinion,  which,  as  subsequent  to  the  publication  of 
the  Essay,  must  be  held  decisive  in  relation  to  the  doctrines  of  that 
work.  At  the  same  time,  the  statement  is  articulate  and  precise, 
and  possesses  all  the  authority  of  one  cautiously  emitted  in  the 
course  of  a  polemical  discussion.  Malel)ranche  coincided  with  Ar- 
nauld,  Reid,  and  recent  philosophers  in  general,  and  consequently 
with  Locke,  as  interpreted  by  Brown,  to  the  extent  of  supposing 
that  sensation  proper  is  nothing  but  a  state  or  modification  of  the 
mind  itself;  and  Locke  had  thus  the  opportunity  of  expressing,  in 
regard  to  this  opinion,  his  agreement  or  dissent.  An  acquiescence 
in  the  docti-ine,  that  the  secondary  qualities,  of  Mhich  we  are  con- 
scions  in  sensation,  are  merely  mental  states,  by  no  means  involves 
an  admission  that  the  primary  qualities,  of  which  we  are  conscious 
in  perception,  are  nothing  more.  Malebranche,  for  example,  af^rms 
the  one  and  denies  the  other.  But  if  Locke  be  found  to  ridicule, 
as  he  does,  even  the  opinion  Avliich'  merely  reduces  the  secondary 
qualities  to  mental  states,  a  fortiori,  and  this  on  the  principle  of  his 
own  philosophy,  he  must  be  held  to  reject  the  doctrine,  which  wonld 
reduce  not  only  the  non-resembling  sensations  of  the  secondary,  but 


LECT..XXII.  METAPHYSICS.  307 

even  the  resembling,  and  consequently  extended,  ideas  of  the  pri- 
mary qualities  of  matter,  to  modifications  of  the  immaterial  unex- 
tended  mind.  In  these  circumstances,  the  following  passage  is 
superfluously  conclusive  against  Brown  ;  and  equally  so,  whether  we 
,    ,  ,  coincide  or  not  in  all  the  principles  it  involves. 

Locke  quoted.  ^  ^  '■  '■ 

"But  to  examine  theii*  doctrine  of  modification 
a  little  farther.  —  Difterent  sentiments  (sensations)  are  difierent 
modifications  of  the  mind.  The  mind,  or  soul,  that  perceives,  is 
one  immaterial  indivisible  substance.  Now  I  see  the  white  and 
black  on  this  paper ;  I  hear  one  singing  in  the  next  room  ;  I  feel 
the  warmth  of  the  fire  I  sit  by;  and  I  taste  an  apple  I  am  eating, 
and  all  this  at  the  same  time.  Xow,  I  ask,  take  modification  for 
what  you  please,  can  the  same  unextended  indivisible  substance 
have  different,  nay,  inconsistent  and  opposite  (as  these  of  white  and 
black  must  be)  modifications  at  the  same  tune?  Or  must  we  sup- 
pose distinct  ])arts  in  an  indivisible  substance,  one  for  black,  another 
for  white,  and  another  for  red  ideas,  and  so  of  the  rest  of  those  in- 
finite sensations,  which  we  have  in  sorts  and  degrees ;  all  which  we 
can  distinctly  perceive,  and  so  are  distinct  ideas,  some  whereof  are 
opposite,  as  heat  and  cold,  which  yet  a  man  may  feel  at  the  same 
time?  I  was  ignorant  before,  how  sensation  was  performed  in  us: 
this  they  call  an  explanation  of  it !  Must  I  say  now  I  understand 
it  better?  If  this  be  to  cure  one's  ignorance,  it  is  a  very  slight  dis- 
ease, and  the  charm  of  two  or  three  insignificant  words  will  at  am- 
time  remove  it;  prohatum  est^'^  This  })assage  is  correspondent  to 
the  doctrine  held,  on  this  2)()int,  by  Locke's  personal  friend  and 
]>hilosophical  follower,  Le  Clerc. 

But  if  it  be  thus  evident  that  Locke  held  neither  the  third  form 
of  representation,  that  lent  to  him  by  Brown,  nor  even  the  second; 
it  follows,  that  Iieid  did  him  anything  but  injustice,  in  supposing 
him  to  maintain  that  ideas  are  objects,  either  in  the  brain,  or  in  the 
mind  itself.  Even  the  more  material  of  these  alternatives  has  been 
the  one  generally  attributed  to  him  by  his  critics,- and  the  one 
adopted  from  liini  l)y  his  discii)les."  Nor  is  tliis  ti)  be  deemed  .in 
opinion  too  monstrous  to  be  entertained  by  so  enlightened  a  j)hil<»s<)- 
pher.  It  was  the  common  opinion  of  the  age;  the  opinion,  in  jiar- 
ticular,  held  by  the  most  illustrious  ))hiIosophers,  his  countrymen 
and  contemporaries,  —  by  Newton,  Clarke,  Willis,  ITook,  (>ti'/ 

Descartes,  Arnauld,  and  Locke,  are  the  only  jihilosophers  in  regard 

1  Section  39.  3  Tucker's  Li>/n  o/i\aiure,  i.  pp.  16,  IS,  (2d 

-  K.  g.  Sergeant  anti  Cousin.     See  Discus-  edit.)    See /)iicM«io»i.j,  p.  80,  note,  t- —  Eu 

sions,  p.  80,  note';  and  Stewart.  Phil.  Essays, 

note  H,  Works,  v.  422.  —  Ed.  4  See  Discussions,  p.  80.  —  Ed. 


308  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  JCXBt. 

to  whom  Brown  attempts  articulately  to  show,  that  Reid's  account 

of  their  opinions  touching  the  point  at  issue  is 

Hrown  passes  over       erroneous.     But  there  are  others,  such  as  New- 

Keid's    interpretation       ^^^^  Clarke,  Hook,  Norris,  whom  Reid  charged 

of  the  opinions  of  cer-  •  i       i     i  t  ^  •  -i       •  -, 

tain  philosophers.  ^^1"!    holdmg   the    obnoxious    hy})othesis,   and 

whom  Brown  passes  over  without  an  attempt 
to  vindicate,  although  Malebranche  and  Berkeley  be  the  only  two 
philosophers  in  regard  to  whom  he  explicitly  avows  that  Reid  is 
correct.  But  as  an  instance  of  Reid's  error.  Brown  alleges  Hobbes ; 
and  as  an  evidence  of  its  universality,  the  authority  of  Le  Clerc 
and  Crousaz. 

'  To  adduce  Hobbes  as  an  instance  of  Reid's  misrepresentation 

of  the  "  common  doctrine  of  ideas,"  betrays,  on 

Kut  adduces  Hobbes       ^j^^     ^^^  of  Brown,  a  total  misapprehension  of 

as     an     instance     of  .  .  ,        n 

Keid's  error.  ^'*^'  f'ouditions  oi   the   question ;    or  he  lorgets 

that  Hobbes  was  a  materialist.  The  doctrine 
of  representation,  under  all  its  modifications,  is  properly  subordi- 
nate to  the  doctrine  of  a  spiritual  principle  of  thought ;  and  on  the 
supposition,  all  btit  universally  admitted  among  philosophers,  that 
the  relation  of  knowledge  implied  the  analogy  of  existence,  it  was 
mainly  devised  to  explain  the  possibility  of  a  knowledge  by  an 
immaterial  subject,  of  an  existence  so  disproportioned  to  its  nature, 
as  the  qualities  of  a  material  object.  Contending,  that  an  imme- 
diate cognition  of  the  accidents  of  matter,  infers  an  essential 
identity  of  matter  and  mind.  Brown  himself  admits,  that  the 
hypothesis  of  representation  belongs  exclusively  to  the  doctrine 
of  dualism ;  -  Avhilst  Reid,  assailing  the  hypothesis  of  ideas  only  as 
subverting  the  reality  of  matter,  could  hardly  regard  it  as  parcel 
of  that  scheme,  which  acknowledges  the  reality  of  nothing  else. 
But  though  Hobbes  cannot  be  adduced  as  a  competent  witness 
against  Reid,  he  is,  however,  valid  evidence  against  Brown. 
Hobbes,  though  a  materialist,  admitted  no  knowledge  of  an  exter- 
nal world.  Like  his  friend  Sorbiere,  he  was  a  kind  of  material 
idealist.  According  to  him,  we  know  nothing  of  the  qualities  or 
existence  of  any  outward  reality.  All  that  we  know  is  the 
*' seeming,"  the  "apparition,"  the  "aspect,"  the  "  phaenomenon,"  the 
"  phantasm,"  within  ourselves ;  and  this  subjective  object,  of  which 
we  are  conscious,  and  which  is  consciousness  itself,  is  nothing  more 
than  the  "  agitation  "  of  our  internal  organism,  determined  by  the 
unknown  "  motions,"  which  are  supposed,  in  like  manner,  to  consti- 
tute the  world  without.  Perception  he  reduces  to  Sensation. 
Memory  and  Imagination  are  faculties  specifically  identical  with 

1  See  Discussions,  p.  75.  —  Ed.  2  Lect.  xxv.  pp.  159, 160  (edit.  1830  ) 


Lr.cT.  XXII.  METAPHYSICS.  309 

Sense,  differing  from  it  simply  in  the  degree  of  their  vivacity ;  and 
tliis  difference  of  intensity,  witli  TTobbes  as  with  Hume,  is  the  only 
discrimination  between  our  dreaming  and  our  waking  thoughts. — 
A  doctrine  of  perception  identical  with  ileid's! 

^  Dr.  Brown  at  length  proceeds  to  consummate  his  victory,  by 
"that  most  decisive  evidence,  found  not  in  treatises,  read  only  by 
a   few,   but   in    the   popular   elementary    works   of  science  of  the 

time,   the   general    text-books    of  schools    and 
i.e  cierc  and  Crou-       colleges."      He    quotes   howcver,    onlv    two,— 

saz,     referred    to    by  ,         r»  j  i'  t        i^i  ^     \  i- 

jjj.jj^„  the  J^neumatolof/i/  ot   l^e  C  lerc,  and  th»-    L<h/ic 

of  Crousaz. 
"Le  Clerc,"  says  Dr.  Brown,  "in  his  (•ha])ter  on  the  nature  of 
ideas,  gives  the  historv  of  the  opinions  of  phi- 

Le  Clerc. 

losophers  on  this  subject,  and  states  among 
them  the  very  doctrine  which  is  most  forcibly  and  accurately 
opposed  to  the  ideal  system  of  perception.  '■Alii  putant  ideas  et 
perceptionea  idearimi  easdeni  esse^  licet  relationibus  differant.  Idea, 
uti  censent,  proprie  ad  objectum  refertur,  quod  mens  considerat;  — 
perce})tio,  vere  ad  mentem  ipsam  qu:e  })erce))it  :  sed  duplex  ilia 
relatio  ad  unani  modificationem  mentis  pertinent.  Itaque,  secun- 
dum hosce  philosophos,  nullfe  sunt,  propiie  loquendo,  ideaj  a  mente 
no.stra  distinctai.'  What  is  it,  I  may  ask,  which  Dr.  Reid  considei-s 
himself  as  having  added  to  this  very  philosophical  view  of  percep- 
tion? and  if  he  added  nothing,  it  is  surely  too  much  to  ascribe  to 
him  the  merit  of  detecting  errors,  the  counter-statement  of  which 
had  long  formed  a  part  of  the  elementary  works  of  the  schools." -' 

In  tlie  first  place,  Di-.  Keid  certainly  "added"  nothing  "to  this 
very  philosophical  view  of  i)erception,"  but  he  ex})lodeil  it  alto- 
gether. In  the  second,  it  is  false  either  that  this  doctrine  of  jier- 
ception  "  had  long  formed  j)art  of  the  elementary  works  of  the 
schools,"  or  that  Le  (/lerc  affords  any  countenance  to  this  assertion. 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  virtually  stated  by  liim  to  be  the  novel  para- 
•lox  of  a  single  philosopher;  nay,  it  is  already,  as  such  a  singular 
oj>inion,  discussed  and  icfcrred  to  its  author  by  lieid  himself  Had 
Dr.  ]5rown  [uoceiMled  fiom  the  tenth  paragraph,  which  lie  quotes, 
to  the  fourteenth,  which  he  could  not  have  read,  he  would  have 
foun<I  that  the  passage  extracted,  so  far  from  containing  the  state- 
ment of  an  old  and  familiar  dogma  in  the  schools,  was  neither  more 
nor  less  than  a  statement  of  the  contemporary  hypothesis  of  Antony 
.Vniauld,  and  of  Antony  Arnauld  alone.  In  the  third  ]>lace,  from 
the  mode  in  which  he  (ntes  I>e  Clerc,  his  silence  to  the  contrary, 
and  the  general  tenor  of  his  statement,  Dr.  Brown  would  lead  us  to 

1  See  DtMinmion^.  ji.  81  —  Ki>  -'  T.cot.  wvii.  ji.  174  (edit.  18.90.)— Ed. 


ylO  METAPHYSICS.  l^ECT.  XXII. 

believe  "that  Le  Clerc  himself  coincides  in  "this  very  philosophical 
view  of  perception."  So  far,  however,  from  coinciding  with 
Arnauld,  he  pronounces  his  opinion  to  be  false  ;  controverts  it  upon 
very  solid  grounds;  and  in  delivering  his  own  doctrine  touching 
ideas,  though  sufficiently  cautious  in  telling  us  what  they  are,  he 
has  no  hesitation  in  assuring  us,  among  other  things  which  they 
cannot  be,  that  they  are  not  modifications  or  essential  states  of 
mind.  "iVwi  est  (idea  sc.)  modificatio  aut  essentia  inentis :  nam 
prsEterquam  quod  sentimus  ingens  esse  discrimen  inter  ideas  percep- 
tionem  et  sensationem ;  quid  habet  mens  nostra  simile  monti, 
aut  innumeris  ejusmodi  ideis?"  Such  is  the  judgment  of  that 
authority  to  which  Dr.  Brown  appealed  as  the  most  decisive."^ 
In  Crousaz,  Dr.  Brown  has  actually  succeeded  in  finding  one 
example  (he  might  have  found  twenty)  of  a 
Crousaz.  philosopher,    before    Reid,    holding    the    same 

theory  of  ideas  with  Arnauld  and  himself.^ 

1  Pntumatnlogia,  §  1.  c.  5,  §  10.  —  Ed. 

a  S«e  this  subject  further  pursued  ia  Discuasions.,  p.  82  «»  se?  —  Ed. 


LECTURE     XXIII. 

THE   PRESENTATIVE   FACULTY. 

I. I'ERCEPTION, —  WAS    REID    A    NATURAL    REALIST? 

Iw  our  last  Lecture,  I  couclucled  the  review  of  Reid'a  Historical 

Account  of  tlie  previous  Opinions  on   Percep- 

Ends  proposed  ill  the       tiou.     Ill  entering  upon  tliis  review,  I  proposed 

review  of  Heids  ac-       ^j^^.  followiuo-  ends.     In  the  first  place,  to  afford 

c-ount  of  opinions  on  " 

I'erceptioii.  J*^"'  "*^*  Certainly  a  complete,  but  a  competent, 

insight  into  the  various  tlieories  on  this  subject; 
and  this  was  sufficiently  accomplished  by  limiting  myself  to  the 
opinions  touche<l  upon  by  Keid.  3[y  aim,  in  the  second  place,  was 
to  correct  some  errors  of  Keid  arising  from,  and  illustrative  of, 
those  fundamental  misconceptions  which  have  infected  his  whole 
<loctrine  of  the  cognitive  faculties  with  confusion  and  error;  ami, 
in  the  third  place,  I  had  in  view  to  vindicate  Keid  from  the  attack 
made  on  him  by  Brown.  I,  accordingly,  showed  you,  that  though 
not  without  mistakes,  owing  partly  to  his  limited  acquaintance  with 
the  works  of  previous  philosophers,  and  partly  to  not  having  gen- 
eralized to  himself  the  various  possible  nuxlifications  of  the  hy- 
pothesis of  niprescntative  perception,  —  I  showed  you,  I  say,  that 
Keid,  though  certainly  anything  but  exempt  from  error,  was,  how- 
ever, absolutely  guiltless  of  ;ill  and  every  one  of  that  marvellous 
tissue  of  mistakes,  with  which  he  is  so  recklessly  accused  by 
Brown,  —  whereas  Brown's  own  attack  is,  from  first  to  last,  itself 
that  very  scries  of  misconceptions  which  he  imputes  to  Keid. 
Nothing,  indeed,  can  be  more  applicable  to  liimself  than  the  con- 
cluding ol>servations  which  he  maki-s  in  reference  to  Keid  ;  and  as 
tlicse  observations,  ad<lii'ssed  to  his  pupils,  embody  in  reality  an 
eilitying  and  well-expressed  advice,  they  will  lose  nothing  of  their 
relevanc-y  or  clfcct,  if  the  one  i)hilosopher  must  bo  substituted  for 
the  other.'  "That  a  mind  so  vigorous  as  that  of  Dr.  Keid  should 
have  been  capable  of  the  series  of  misconceptions  which  we  have 
traced,  may  seem  wonderful,  and  truly  is  so;  and  equally,  or  rather 

I   DisniMiions,  p  82. — Kd. 


312  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXFR 

.still  more  wonderful,  is  the  geiier:il  admission  of  his  merit  in  llii& 
respect.  I  trust  it  will  impress  you  Avith  one  important  lesson  —  to 
consult  the  opinions  of  authors  in  their  own  works,  and  not  in  the 
works  of  those  Avho  profess  to  give  a  faithful  account  of  them. 
From  my  own  experience  I  can  most  truly  assure  you,  that  there 
is  scarcely  an  instance  in  which  I  have  found  the  view  which  I  had 
received  of  them  to  be  faithful.  There  is  usually  something  more, 
or  something  loss,  which  modifies  the  general  result;  and  by  the 
various  additions  and  subtractions  thus  made,  so  much  of  the  spirit 
of  the  original  doctrine  is  lost,  that  it  may,  in  some  cases,  be  con- 
sidered as  having  made  a  fortunate  escape,  if  it  be  not  at  last  repre- 
sented as  directly  opposite  to  what  it  is." ' 

The  mistakes  of  Di-.  Brown  in  relation  to  Reid,  on  Avhich  I  have 

hitherto  animadverted,  are  comparatively  unim- 

Reid  rig'.'t  in  attrib-       portant.       Their    refutation    only    evinces    that 

uting  to  philosophers       j^^-^  ^jj  ^^^^  erroucously  attribute  to  philoso- 

in  general  the  cruder  .  ,      ,  t        />  j?  -i 

,    ,  •       e  x>  phers  in  general  the  cruder  lorm  ot  the  repre- 

doctnne  of  Represen-         1^ '  ^   "  &  i 

tative rerception.  sentative  hy})othesis  of  perception;  and  that  he- 

was  fully  warranted  in  this  attribution,  is  not 
only  demonstrated  by  the  dispi-oval  of  all  the  instances  which 
Brown  has  alleged  against  Reid,  but  might  be  shown  by  a  wholo 
crowd  of  examples,  were  it  necessary  to  prove  so  undeniable  a  fact. 
In  addition  to  what  I  have  already  articulately  proved,  it  will  be 
enough  now  simply  to  mention  that  the  most  learned  and  intelli- 
gent of  the  philosophers  of  last  century  might  be  quoted  to  the 
fact,  tliat  the  opinion  attributed  by  Reid  to  psychologists  in  general, 
Avas  in  reality  the  prevalent;  and  that  the  doctrine  of  Arnauld, 
which  BroAvn  supposes  to  have  been  the  one  universally  received, 
was  only  adopted  by  the  fcAV.  To  this  point  Malebranche,  Leib- 
nitz, and  Brucker,  the  younger  Thomasius,  'S  Gravesande,  Genovesi, 
and  Voltaire,^  are  conclusive  evidence. 

But  a  more  important  historical  question  remains,  and  one  which 

even  more  affects  the  reputations  of  Reid  an<l 

wa-s  Reid  himself  a       B^own.     It  is  this:— Did  Reid,  as  Brown  sup- 

Natural  Realist?  .  ,    r,     \ 

poses,  liold,  not  the  doctrine  of  In  atural  Reiil- 
ism,  but  the  finer  hypothesis  of  a  Representative  Perception? 

If  Reid  did  hold  this  doctrine,  I  admit  at  once  that  BroAvn  is 
right.^  Reid  accomplished  nothing;  his  philosophy  is  a  blunder, 
and  his  Avhole  polemic  against  the  philosophers,  too  insignificant 
for  refutation  or  comment.     The  one  form  of  representation  may 

1  PhUosophy    of   the    Human    Mind.    Lect.  2  These  testimonies  are  given  in  ftiH,  Dit^ 

xxvii.  p.  175  (edit.  1830).  msslons.  p.  8.3.  —  Ed. 

3  See  Discussions,  p.  91.  —  Eb- 


I 


Lect.  XXIII.  METAPHYSICS.  315 

be  somewliat  simpler  and  more  pliilosophical  than  the  other;  but 
the  substitution  of  the  former  for  tlie  latter  is  hardly  deserving  of 
notice ;  and  of  all  conceivabk'  ]i:illucinations  the  very  greatest 
would  be  that  of  Reid,  in  arrogating  to  himself  the  merit  of  thus 
subverting  the  foundation  of  Idealism  and  Skepticism,  and  of  phi- 
losophers at  large  in  acknowledging  the  pretension.  The  idealist 
and  skeptic  can  establish  their  conclusions  intlifferently  on  either 
form  of  a  representative  ])erception ;  nay,  the  simpler  form  affords 
a  securer,  as  the  more  philosophical,  foundation.  The  idealism  of 
Fichte  is  accordingly  a  system  tiir  more  firmly  founded  than  the 
idealism  of  Berkeley ;  and  as  the  simjiler  involves  a  contradiction 
of  consciousness  more  extensive  mid  direct,  so  it  furnishes  to  the 
skeptic  a  longer  and  more  powerful  lever. 

Before,  however,  discussing  this  (juestion,  it  may  be  j>roper  here 
to  consider  more  particularly  a  matter  of  which 

The  distinction  of       ^y(,  },;ive  hitherto  treated  only  by  the  way,  —  T 

Intuitive    and    IJi-pre-  ^,         i-^^-       x-  £•  t  '  t    i.  Ti.'-*- 

,  ,  mean  the  distinction  ot  Immediate  or  Intuitive, 

wntative   Knowledfte, 

to  be  first  considered.  in  coiitr.ist  to  Mediate  or  Ilepreseiitative  Knowl- 
edge. This  is  a  distinction  of  the  most  impor- 
tant kind,  and  it  is  one  which  has,  however,  been  alnio.<;t  wholly 
overlooked  by  philosophers.  This  oversight  is  less  to  be  wondered 
at  in  those  wlio  allowed  no  immediate  knowledge  to  the  mind, 
except  of  its  proper  modes;  in  their  systems  the  distinction,  though 
it  still  subsisted,  had  little  relevancy  or  eifect,  as  it  did  not  dis- 
criminate the  faculty  by  which  we  are  aware  of  the  presence  of 
external  objects,  from  that  by  which,  when  absent,  these  are  imaged 
to  the  mind.  In  neither  case,  on  this  doctrine,  are  we  conscious  or 
immediately  cognizant  of  the  external  reality,  but  only  of  the 
mental  modi;  through  which  it  is  represented.  But  it  is  more 
:istonishiiig  that  those  who  maintain  that  tlie  mind  is  immediately 
percipient  of  external  things,  should  not  have  signalized  this  dis- 
tinction ;  as  on  it  is  established  the  essential  difference  of  Percep- 
tion as  a  lliculty  of  intuitive.  Imagination  as  a  faculty  of  repre- 
sentative, knowledge.  But  the  marvel  is  still  more  enhanced 
when  we  find  that  Reid  and  Stewart — (if  tc  tliem  this  opinion 
really  belongs)  so  far  from  distinguishing  Perception  as  an  imme- 
diate  and  intuitive,  from  Imaginatit)n  (.and  uii<Ier  Imagin.-ition,  be 
it  observe<l,  I  include  both  tlie  ('oncei>tion  and  tlic  Memory  of 
these    philosophers),  as   a   mediate   or  representative,  f-iculty,  —  in 

language    make  them    both   equ.illy  immediate. 
Reid's  view  of  this       Y^;^j  ^^.j„  ,.,.^.„ii,.,.(  ^,,,,  ,.,.!,„. It  ion  I  fbnn.'ily  gave 

distinction  <il»<cnri'.  ,  .     ,  .  . 

you  of   Beid's  self-Cdiitradiitory  assertion,  that 
in    .Memory    we     are     immedjutely    cognizant     ol'    th.;t     wliich,    as 

40 


1 


314  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXDI. 

past,  is  not  now  existent,  and  cannot,  therefore,  be  known  in  itself; 
and  that,  in  Imagination,  we  are  immediately  cognizant  of  that 
"which  is  distant,  or  of  that  which  is  not,  and  probably  never  was, 
in  being.'  Here  the  term  immediate  is  either  absurd,  as  contra- 
dictory ;  or  it  is  applied  only,  in  a  certain  special  meaning,  to  desig- 
nate the  simpler  form  of  representation,  in  which  nothing  is  sup- 
posed to  intervene  between  the  mental  cognition  and  the  external 
reality;  in  contrast  to  the  more  complex,  in  which  the  represen- 
tative or  vicarious  image    is   supposed  to  be  something   different 

from  both.     Thus,  in   consequence  of  this  dis- 
His  whole  phiioso-       tinction   not  onlv  not  having  been  traced   bv 

phv  hence  involved  in         t^-t  i         t'--         •  •       •    ^        c  ^  •      t     ' 

confusion  Keid,  as  the  discnminative  pnnciple  oi  his  doc- 

trine, but  having  been  even  overlaid,  obscured, 
and  perplexed,  his  whole  j)hilosophy  has  been  involved  in  haze 
and  confusion ;  insomuch  that  a  philosopher  of  Biown's  acuteness 
<?ould  (as  we  have  seen  and  shall  see)  actually  so  far  misconceive, 
as  even  to  reverse  its  import.  The  distinction  is,  therefore,  one 
which,  on  every  account,  merits  your  most  sedulous  attention  ;  but 
though  of  primary  importance,  it  is  fortunately  not  of  any  con- 
siderable difficulty. 

.\s  every  cognitive   act  which,  in  one  relation,  is  a  mediate  or 

representative,  is,  in  another,  an  immediate  or 

Thi«  iJistinction  in       intuitive,  knowledge,  let  us   take  a   particular 

^eneraj     stated     and         .  /.  i       "  i  i  in 

iihistra-ted.  mstaiice  ot  such  an  act;  as  hereby  we  shall  at 

once  obtain  an  example  of  the  one  kind  of 
knowledge,  and  of  the  other,  and  these  also  in  proximate  contrast 
to  each  other.  I  call  up  an  image  of  the  High  Church.  Now, 
in  this  act,  what  do  I  know  immediately  or  intuitively;  what 
mediately  or  by  representation '?  It  is  manifest  that  I  am  conscious 
or  immediately  cognizant  of  all  that  is  known  as  an  act  or  modifi- 
cation of  my  mind,  and,  consequently,  of  the  modification  or  act 
which  constitutes  the  mental  image  of  the  Cathedral.  But  as,  in 
this  operation,  it  is  evident,  that  I  am  conscious  or  immediately 
cognizant  of  the  Cathedral,  as  imaged  in  my  mind ;  so  it  is  equally 
manifest,  that  I  am  not  conscious  or  immediately  cognizant  of  the 
Cathedral  as  existing.  But  still  I  am  said  to  know  it ;  it  is  even 
tnilled  the  object  of  my  thought.  I  can,  however,  only  know  it 
mediately,  —  only  through  the  mental  image  which  represents  it 
to  correciousness ;  and  it  can  only  be  styled  the  object  of  thought, 
inasmuch  as  a  reference  to  it  is  necessarily  involved  in  the  act  of 
representation.     From   this  example  is  manifest,  what  in  general 

1  See  Lect.  xii.   p.  151  etsuq.  —  Ed. 


Lkct.  XXIII.  MKTAPHYSICS.  '  315 

is  meant  by  immediate  or  intuitive,  —  what  by  mediate  or  repre- 
sentative knowledge.  All  philosophers  are  at  one  in  regard  to  the 
immediate  knowledge  of  onr  present  mental  modifications ;  and 
all  are  equally  agreed,  if  ^vc  remove  some  verbal  ambiguities,  that 
we  are  only  mediately  cognizant  of  all  past  thoughts,  objects,  and 
events,  and  of  every  external  reality  not  at  the  moment  within  the 
sphere  of  sense.      There  is  but  one  point  on  which  they  .are  now  at 

variance,  —  viz.,  whether  the  thinking  subject  is 

The   contrasts  be-       competent  to  an  intuitive  knowledge  of  aught 

tween  Intuitive   an.i       |^,,^  ^j^^.  modifications  of  the  mental  self;  in  other 

Representative  Cogni-  ,  ,       ,  •  t 

^i,„j  words,  whether  we  can  have  any  immediate  per- 

ception of  external  things.     Waiving,  however, 
this  question  for  the  moment,  let  us  articulately  state  what  are  the 
different  conditions  involved  in  the  two  kinds  of  knowledge. 
In  the  first  place,   considered   as  acts.  —  An   act   of  immediate 
knowledge  is  simple ;    there  is  nothing  beyond 
1.  coDBidered    as       ^j^^  ^^^^,^   congciousness,  by  that  which  knows,    . 
of  that  which  is  known.     Hei-e  consciousness  is 
f^imjdy  contemplative.     On  the  contrary,  an  act  of  mediate  knowl- 
edge is  comi)lex  ;  for  the  mind  is  not  only  conscious  of  the  act  as 
its  own  modification,  but  of  this  modification  as  an  object  repre- 
sentative of,  or  relative  to,  an   object  beyond   the  sphere^  of  con- 
sciousness.     In  this  act,  consciousness  is  both  representative  and 
contemplative  of  the  representation. 

In  the  second  ]»lace,  in  relation  to  their  objects.  —  In  an  imme- 
diate  cognition,   the    object   is    single,   and   the 
2.    in  relation  to       ^^.^.^^^    unequivocal.      Here    the    object  in    con- 

their  objects.  .  ■,,!••  ■  .      '      ■  ^, 

sciousness,  and  the  object  nvexixtenei?,  are  tlie 
same;  in  the  language  of  the  schools,  the  esse  mteMio/mleor  repre- 
sentativum,  coincides  with  the  esse  entitatimivi.  In  a*  mediate 
cognition,  on  the  other  hand,  the  object  is  twofi»ld,  and  the  term 
e(|uivocal;  the  object  known  and  representing  beiiig  difterent  from 
tlie  object  unknown,  except  as  represented.  The  immediate  object, 
or  object  known  in  this  act,  should  be  called  the  su/i/o'tiifc  ohjfct, 
or  .•iubjf.ct-ohjrcf,  in  contradistinction  to  the  mediate?  or  Unknown 
object,  which  might  be  discriminated  as  the  ohject-ohject.  A  slight 
acquaintance  with  philosophical  writings  will  show  you  how  neces- 
sary such  a  tlistinctioM  is;  tlir  want  of  it  has  cau.sed  Heid  to  jiuzzle 
himself,  and  Kant   to  pt  r|tl(\   his  readers. 

In  the  third   place,  considered  as  judgments    (for  you  will  recol- 
lect that  everv  act  of  Consciousness  involves  an 

.t    An  judKinents.  ,,  .        ^      "      r  ...  ^      ^i  i,'       *       / 

.iftinnatioii).  —  In    an    intuitive    act,   the   object     < 
known  is  known   as  actually  i-xisting;   the  cognition,  therefore,  is 


316  .    .  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIIL 

assertory,  iiiasinuch  as  the  reality  of  that,  its  object,  is  given  uncon- 
ditionally as  a  fact.  In  a  representative  act,  on  the  contrary,  the 
represented  object  is  unknown  as  actually  existing ;  the  cognition, 
therefore,  is "  i)robleniatical,  the  reality  of  the  object  represented 
being  only  given  as  a  possibility,  on  the  hypothesis  of  the  object 
representing. 

In  the  fourth  place,  in  relation  to  their  sphere.  —  Representative 
knowledge  is  exclusively  subjective,  for  its  im- 

4.    In    relation    to  t    ^  i  •  • 

their  sphere.  mediate  object  IS  a  mere  mental   modification, 

and  its  mediate  object  is  unknown,  except  in 
so  far  as  that  modification  represents  it.  Intuitive  knowledge,  on 
the  other  hand,  if  consciousness  is  to  be  credited,  is  either  sub- 
jective or  objective,  for  its  single  object  may  be  either  a  phic- 
nomenon  of  the  ego  or  of  the  non-ego,  —  either  mental  or  materiaL 
In  the  fifth  place,  considered  in  reference  to  their  perfection.  — 
An  intuitive   cognition,  as  an  act,  is  comidete 

5.    In  reference  to  iii^  •  .  /.  ,, 

their  perfection.  '*"^^  absolutc,  as  UTcspective  of  aught  beyond 

the  dominion  of  consciousness;  whereas,  a  rep- 
resentative cognition,  as  an  act,  is  incomplete,  being  relative  ty, 
and  vicarious  of,  an  existence  beyond  the  sphere  of  actual  knowl- 
edge. The  object  likewise  of  the  former  is  complete,  being  at 
once  known  and  real ;  whereas,  in  the  latter,  the  object  known  is 
ideal,  the  real  object  unknown.  In  their  relations  to  each  other, 
immediate  knowledge  is  complete,  as  self-sufficient;  mediate  knowl- 
edge, on  the  contrary,  is  incomplete,  as  dependent  on  the  other  for 
its  realization.* 

Such  are  the  two  kinds  of  knowledge  which  it  is  necessary  ta 
•listinguish,  and  such  are  the  principal  contrasts  they  present.  I 
said  a  little  ago  that  this  distinction,  so  far  from  being  signalized, 
had  been  almost  abolished  by  philosophers.     I  ought,  however,  to 

have   excepted   certain    of  the   schoolmen,"   by 

This    distinction       ^^.j^^^j^  ^j^j^  discrimination  was  not  only  taken, 

taken    by   cert.Tin    ot  ,  j  ^ 

the  schoolmen.  "^^  admirably  applied ;  and,  though  I  did  not 

originally  borrow  it  from  them,  I  was  happy  to 
find  that  wliat  I  had  thought  out  for  myself,  was  confirmed  by  th.e 

1  For  a  fuller  statement  of  the  points  of  nis  cognitio  quae  habetur  de  re,  non  sic  reali- 
(listinction  between  Immediate  and  Mediate  terpr»sente  in  ratione  object!  immediate  cog- 
Knowledge,  see  Rfirl's  WoTki,  Huppl.  Dissert.  uiti.  §  9:  Actus  sensuum  exteriorum  sunt 
Xote  B,  p.  804-S15.  —  Ed.  intuitivi,  propter  immediatum  ordinera  ad  ob- 

2  [See  Durandus,  In  Sent.,  I'rologus,  q.  3,  jeota  .sua."  Cf  John  Major,  In  Sent.,  lib.  i. 
«  6 :  '■  Cognitio  intaith<a,  ilia  qua;  immediate  dist.  iii.  q.  2,  f  33,  and  Tellez,  Summa  Philam- 
tendit  ad  rem  sibi  praesentem  objective,  .secun-  pkire.  torn  ii.  p.  952]  [Resides  Durandus,  the 
dum  ejus  aclualem  existentiam  :  sicut  cum  vi-  Conimbricenses  refer  to  Sootus,  Ferrariensis, 
deo  colorem  exietei»temin  pariete,  vel  rosam  Anselm,  Hugo  a  Sancto  Victore,  the  Master 
<)uam  in  mann  teueo     Abstractira  dicitur  om-  of  Sentences,  Aquinas,  Gregory  Ariminen.sis 


Lkct.  XXIII.  METAPHYSICS.  ,  3l7 

nnthority  of  these  subtle  spirits.  The  names  given  in  the  sehools 
to  the  immediate  and  mediate  cognitions  Avere  intuitii'e  and  ah- 
stractive  (cognitio  intultiva,  cognitlo  abstracHca),  meaning  by  the 
latter  term  not  merely  what  we,  with  them,  call  abstract  knowl- 
edge, but  also  the  representations  of  concrete  objects  in  the  imagin- 
ation or  memory. 

Now,  possessed  of  this  distinction,  of  which  Reid  knew  nothing, 
and  asserting  far  more  clearly  and  explicitly  than  he  has  ever  done 
the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  j>ercepti()ii,  I  think  the  affirmation  I 
made  in  my  last  Lecture  is  not  unwarranted,  —  that  a  considerable 
section  of  the  schoolmen  were  incomparably  superior  to  Reid,  or 
any  modern  philosopher,  in  their  exposition  of  the  true  theory  of 
that  faculty.  It  is  only  wonderful  that  this,  their  doctrine,  has  not 
hitherto  attracted  attention,  and  obtained  the  celebrity  it  merits. 

Having  now  prepared  you  for  the  question  concerning  Reid,  I 
shall  proceed  to  its  considei-ation  ;  and  shall,  in 

Order  of  the  dis-  ^y^^  ^^^^  place,  statc  the  arguments  that  may  be 
adduced  in  favor  of  the  opinion,  that  Reid  did 
not  assert  a  doctrine  of  Natural  Realism,  —  did  not  accept  the  fact 
of  the  duality  of  consciousness  in  its  genuine  integrity,  but  only 
deluded  himself  with  the  belief  that  he  was  originating  a  new  or 
an  important  opinion,  by  the  adoption  of  the  simpler  form  of  Rep- 
resentation ;  and,  in  the  secoiid  ])lace,  state  the  argtunents  that 
may  be  alleged  in  support  of  the  oj>posite  conclusion,  that  his 
doctrine  is  in  truth  the  simple  doctrine  of  Natural  Realism. 

But  before  proceeding  to  state  the   jirounds  on  which   alone  I 

conceive  any  presumj)tion  can  ))e  founded,  that 

1.    Grounds    on       f{ei,i  j^  ,,,,t  ^  Natur.il   Realist,  but,  like  Brown, 

ici     ei     may     e       ^  Cosmotlu'tic   Mc.ilist,  I  shall  state  and  refute 

supposed    not  a  Nat- 
ural Realist.  t'lc   oTilv  attempt  made  by  Brown  to  support 

Brown's  single  ar-       fhis,   his    interpretation    of  Reid's   fundamental 

Kuinent  in  support  of       aoctriu*'.     Biuwn's  interpretation  of  Reid  seems, 

the    view    that    Reid         .        n  i     i  i  •  i  •   i      t 

was    a    (osmothetic       "^   ^^'^t,   not    grounded   on    anything  which    he 
Idealist,  refuted.  fotuid  iu   Keid,  but  simply  on  his  own   assump- 

tion of  what  Reid's  opinion  must  be.  For, 
marvellous  as  it  may  sound.  Hiown  hardly  seems  to  have  con- 
templatetl  the  possibility  of  an  imme(liate  knowledge  of  anything 
beyond  the  sphere  of  self;  and  I  should  say,  without  qualification, 
that  he  liad  never  at  all  imagined  this  possibility,  were  it  not  for 


I'uliidanus,  Cajetan,  as  distinguishinj;  be-  Reid's  Works,  Suppl  Diss.  H,  p.  812. — See 
tween  knowledge  intuitive  and  ahstmrtive.  above,  L.  xxi.  p.  292,  and  L.  xzii.  p.  300. -^ 
See  /*  De  Animn,  lib.  ii.  c.  vi.  q.  3.  p  108.  and       Ed.] 


318  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIIL 

the  single  attempt  he  makes  at  a  proof  of  the  impossibility  of 
Reid  holding  such  an  opinion,  Avhen  on  one  occasion  Reid's  lan- 
guage seems  for  a  moment  to  have  actually  suggested  to  him  the 
question  :  Might  that  philosopher  not  perhaps  regard  the  external 
object  as  identical  with  the  immediate  object  in  percej^tion?  In 
the  following  passage,  you  will  observe,  by  anticipation,  that  by 
Sensation,  which  ought  to  be  called  Sensation  Proper,  is  meant  the 
subjective  feeUng,  —  the  pleasure  or  pain  hivolved  in  an  act  of 
sensible  perception ;  and  by  Perception,  which  ought  to  be  called 
Perception  Proper,  is  meant  the  objective  knowledge  which  we 
have,  or  think  we  have,  of  the  external  object  in  that  act.  "'Sen- 
sation,' says  Dr.  Reid,  '  can  be  nothing  else  than 

Brown  quoted.  •      •       n  ^  t 

it  IS  felt  to  be.  Its  very  essence  consists  in 
being  felt ;  and  when  it  is  not  felt,  it  is  not.  There  is  no  difference 
between  the  sensation  and  the  feeling  of  it ;  they  are  one  and  the 
same  thing.'  But  this  is  surely  equally  true  of  what  he  terms  per- 
ception, which,  as  a  state  of  the  mind,  it  must  be  remembered,  is, 
according  to  his  own  account  of  it,  as  different  from  the  object 
perceived  as  the  sensation  is.  We  may  say  of  the  mental  state 
of  perception,  too,  in  his  own  language,  as  indeed  we  must  say  of 
all  our  states  of  mind,  whatever  they  may  be,  that  it  can  be  noth- 
ing else  than  it  is  felt  to  be.  Its  A'ery  essence  consists  m  being 
felt;  and  when  it  is  not  felt,  it  is  not.  There  is  no  diiference 
between  the  perception  and  the  feeling  of  it ;  they  are  one  and 
the  same  thing.  The  sensation,  indeed,  which  is  mental,  is  dif- 
ferent from  the  object  exciting  it,  which  we  term  material;  but  so 
also  is  the  state  of  mind  which  constitutes  perception ;  for  Dr. 
Reid  was  surely  too  zealous  an  opjjonent  of  the  systems  which 
ascribe  everything  to  mind  alone,  or  to  matter  alone,  to  consider 
the  perception  as  itself  the  object  perceived.  That  in  sensation, 
as  contradistinguished  from  perception,  there  is  no  reference  made 
to  an  external  object,  is  true ;  because,  when  the  reference  is  made, 
we  then  use  the  new  term  of  perception ;  but  that  in  sensation 
there  is  no  object  distinct  from  that  act  of  the  mind  by  which  it 
is  felt,  —  no  object  independent  of  the  mental  feeling,  is  surely  a 
very  strange  opinion  of  this  philosopher;  since  what  he  terms  per- 
ception is  nothing  but  the  reference  of  this  very  sensation  to  its 
external  object.  The  sensation  itself  he  certainly  sup])oses  to 
depend  on  the  presence  of  an  external  object,  which  is  all  that 
can  be  understood  in  the  case  of -perception,  when  we  speak  of  its 
objects,  or,  in  other  words,  of  those  external  causes  to  which  we 
refer  our  sensations;  for  the  material  object  itself  he  surely  could 
not  consider  as  forming  a  part  of  the  perception,  which  is  a  state 


Lkct.  XXin.  METAPHYSICS.  819 

of  the  mind  alone.  To  be  the  object  of  perception,  is  nothing 
more  than  to  be  the  foreign  cause  or  occasion,  on  which  tliis  state 
of  the  mind  directly  or  indirectly  arises;  and  an  object,  in  this 
only  intelligible  sense,  as  an  occasion  or  cause  of  a  certain  subse- 
quent effect,  must,  on  his  own  principles,  be  equally  allowed  to 
sensation.  Though  he  does  not  inform  us  what  he  means  by  the 
term  ohject.,  as  peculiarly  apjilied  to  perception,  —  (and,  indeed,  if 
he  had  explained  it,  I  cannot  but  think  that  a  great  part  of  his 
system,  which  is  founded  on  the  confusion  of  this  single  word,  as 
something  different  from  a  mere  external  cause  of  an  internal 
feeling,  must  have  fallen  to  the  ground),  —  he  yet  tells  us  verv 
explicitly,  that  to  be  the  object  of  perception,  is  something  more 
than  to  be  the  external  occasion  on  which  that  state  of  the  mind 
arises  which  he  terms  perception ;  for,  in  arguing  against  the 
opinion  of  a  philosopher  who  contends  for  the  existence  of  certain 
images  or  traces  in  the  brain,  and  yet  says,  'tliat  we  are  not  to 
conceive  the  images  or  traces  in  the  brain  to  be  perceived,  as  if 
there  were  eyes  in  the  brain ;  these  traces  are  only  occasions,  on 
which,  by  the  laws  of  the  union  of  soul  and  body,  ideas  are  excited 
in  the  mind ;  and,  therefore,  it  is  not  necessary  that  there  should 
be  an  exact  resemblance  between  the  traces  and  the  things  repre- 
sented by  them,  any  more  than  that  words  or  signs  should  be 
exactly  like  the  things  signified  by  them,'  he  adds :  '  These  two 
opinions,  I  think,  cannot  be  I'econciled.  For  if  the  images  or 
traces  in  the  brain  are  perceived,  they  must  be  the  objects  of 
perception,  and  not  tJie  occasions  of  it  only.  On  the  other  hand, 
if  they  are  only  the  occasions  of  our  perceiving,  they  are  not 
perceived  at  all.'  Did  Dr.  Keid,  then,  suppose  that  the  feeling, 
whatever  it  may  be,  which  constitutes  perception  as  a  state  of  the 
mind,  or,  in  short,  all  of  which  we  aie  conscious  in  jicrception,  is 
not  sti'ictly  and  exclusively  mental,  as  much  as  all  of  which  we  are 
conscious  in  remembrance,  or  in  h)ve,  or  hate;  or  did  he  wislj  us 
to  Ijelieve  that  matter  itself,  in  any  of  its  forms,  is,  or  <;m  be,  a 
part  of  the  phitnomena  or  states  of  the  luiml,  —  a  jiart,  therefore, 
of  tliat  nuMital  state  or  feeling  which  we  term  a  ]icrcej)tion  ?  (^iir 
sensations,  Hke  our  remcnil)raMccs  or  emotions,  we  refer  to  some 
cause  or  anteceilent.  Tiie  ditl'crcncc  is,  that  in  the  one  case  we 
consider  the  feeling  as  having  for  its  cause  some  previous  feeling 
or  state  of  the  mind  itself;  in  the  other  case  we  consider  it  as 
having  for  its  cause  soinctliing  which  is  exteni;il  to  ourselves,  and 
indepenilent  of  our  transient  feelings,  —  something  wliicli,  in  con- 
sequence of  former  feelings  suggeste<l  at  tlic  motnent,  it  is  imjiossi- 
l)le  for  us  not  to  regard  as  exteinlcd  and  n-sisting.      But  still,  what 


ozO  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXIIl 

we  thus  regard  as  extended  and  resisting,  is  known  to  us  only  by 
the  feelings  which  it  occasions  in  our  mind.  What  matter,  in  its 
relation  to  percipient  mind,  can  be,  but  the  cause  or  occasion, 
direct  or  indirect,  of  that  class  of  feelings  which  I  term  sensations 
or  perceptions,  it  is  absolutely  impossible  for  me  to  conceive. 

"  The  percipient  mind,  in  no  one  of  its  affections,  can  be  said  to 
be  the  mass  of  matter  which  it  perceives,  unless  the  separate  exist- 
ence, either  of  matter  or  of  mind,  be  abandoned  by  us,  the  existence 
of  either  of  which.  Dr.  Reid  w^ould  have  been  the  last  of  philoso- 
phers to  yield.  He  acknowledges  that  our  perceptions  are  conse- 
quent on  the  presence  of  external  bodies,  not  from  any  necessary 
connection  subsisting  between  them,  but  merely  from  the  arrange- 
ment which  the  Deity,  in  his  wisdom,  has  chosen  to  make  of  their 
mutual  phaniomena ;  which  is  surely  to  say,  that  the  Deity  has  ren- 
dered the  presence  of  the  external  object  the  occasion  of  that 
affection  of  the  mind  which  is  termed  perception  ;  or,  if  it  be  not  to 
say  this,  it  is  to  say  nothing.  Whatever  state  of  mind  perception 
may  be ;  whether  a  primary  result  of  a  peculiar  power,  or  a  mere 
secondary  reference  of  association  that  follows  the  particular  sensa- 
tion, of  which  the  reference  is  made,  it  is  itself,  in  either  view  of  it, 
but  a  state  of  the  mind ;  and  to  be  the  external  occasion  or  ante- 
cedent of  this  state  of  mind,  since  it  is  to  produce,  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, all  wliich  constitutes  perception,  is  surely,  therefore,  to  be 
perceived,  or  there  must  be  something  in  the  mere  word  perceived, 
different  from  the  physical  reality  which  it  expresses."  * 

-  Now  the  sum  and  substance  of  this  reasoning  is,  as  far  as  I  can 
compreliend   it,  to   the   following   effect:  —  To 

Brown's    reasoning  ^  .  ,.  .  „  .    ,  , 

stated  and  refuted.  ''^^^^''^  ^^^  immediate  perception  of  material  qual- 

ities, is  to  assert  an  identity  of  matter  and  mind ; 
for  that  which  is  immediately  known  must  be  the  same  in  nature  as 
that  which  immediately  knows. 

But  Reid  was  not  a  materialist,  was  a  sturdy  spiritualist;  there- 
fore he  could  not  really  maintain  an  immediate  perception  of  the 
qualities  of  matter. 

The  whole  validity  of  this  argument  consists  in  the  truth  of  the 
major  proposition  (for  the  minor  proposition  that  Reid  was  not  a 
materialist  is  certain),  —  To  assert  an  immediate  perception  of  ma- 
terial qualities,  is  to  assert  an  identity  of  matter  and  mind  ;  for  that 
which  is  immediately  known  must  be  the  same  in  essence  as  that 
wliich  immediately  knows. 

Now  in  support  of  the  proposition  which  constitutes  the  founda- 

1  LfCturfS  on  the  Philosuphy  of  the  Human  Mind.  Lect.  xxv.  p.  159,  160. 

2  See  Discussions,  p.  60.  —  E0. 


Lect.  XXIir.  METAPHYSICS.  321 

tion   of  his  argument,  Brown   offers  no  proof.     He  assumes  it  as 

an  axiom.     But  so  far  from  his  being  entitled 

His     fundamental         xj  i-^i-         ^  •  t       ^  ^       i-  !•< 

to  do  so,  b>'  Its  bemo:  too  evident  to  fear  denial, 

proposition  assumed.  .      . 

it  is,  on  the  contrary,  not  only  not  obtrusively 
trut',  but,  when  examined,  precisely  the  reverse  of  truth. 

In  the  first  place,  if  we  appeal  to  the  only  possible  arbiter  in  the 

case,  —  the  authority  of  consciousness,  —  we  find 

In  the  first  place,  dis-       ^j^.^^  cousciousuess  givcs  as  an  ultimate  fiict,  in 

proved  by  conscious-  .  ,  ,         t       ,.  /.         . 

^gj,g  the  unity  of  knowledge,  the  duality  of  exist- 

ence ;  that  is,  it  assures  us  that,  in  the  act  of 
perception,  the  percipient  subject  is  at  once  conscious  of  something 
Avhich  it  distinguishes  as  a  modification  of  self,  and  of  something 
Avliich  it  distinguishes  as  a  modification  of  not-self  Reid,  there- 
fore, as  a  dualist,  and  a  dualist  founding  not  on  the  hypotheses  of 
]»hiloso])hers,  but  on  the  data  of  consciousness,  might  safely  maintain 
the  fact  of  our  immediate  perception  of  external  objects,  without 
fear  of  involving  himself  iu  an  assertion  of  the  identity  of  mind  ami 
matter. 

But,  hi  the  second  place,  if  Reid  did  iKjt  maintain  this  immediacy 

of  perception,  and  assert  the  veracity  of  consci- 

1 11  the  second  place,       ousncss,  he  would  at   oiice  be  forced  to  admit 

Avould  prove  tlie  con-  ,i  e  ^^  -^      •  i       •  /> 

'     ,      „  one  or  other  ot  the  unitarian  conclusions  ot  ma- 

verse  ol  wliut  iSrown 

employs  it  to  establish.       terialisiii  or  idealism.     Our  knowledge  of  mind 

and  matter,  as  substances,  is  merely  relative ; 
they  ;tre  known  to  us  only  in  their  qualities  ;  and  Ave  can  justify  the 
postulation  of  two  different  substances,  exclusively  on  the  supposi- 
tion of  the  incompatibility  of  the  double  series  of  phienomena  to 
coinliere  in  one.  Is  this  supposition  di.sproved  ?  —  The  presumption 
against  dualism  is  .again  decisive.  Entities  are  not  to  be  multii)lied 
"witlioiit  necessity;  a*  jjlurality  of  princijiles  is  not  to  be  assumed, 
where  the  pluienomena  can  be  explained  by  one.  In  Brown's  theory 
of  ]ierce]ition,  he  abolishes  the  incompatibility  of  the  two  series; 
and  yet  his  argument,  as  a  dualist,  for  an  immaterial  ))rii)ciple  of 
thought,  |troceeds  on  the  ground  that  this  incomi)atibility  subsists. ' 
This  philoso|)her  denies  us  an  immediate  knowledge  of  aught  be- 
yon<l  the  accidents  of  mind.  The  accidents  wliich  we  refer  to  body, 
us  known  (o  us,  are  oidy  states  or  modifications  of  the  percijnent 
subject  itself;  in  other  word.s,  the  qualities  we  call  Duiffn'al,  are 
known  by  us  to  exist,  only  as  they  are  known  by  us  to  inhere  in  the 
same  substance  as  the  (jualities  we  <lenominate  mental.  There  is  an 
a)i))arent  antithesis,  but  a;  real  identity.  On  this  doctrine,  the 
hypothesis  of  a  double  princii)le  losing  its  necessity,  becomes  pliilo- 

1  Philosophy  of  the  Human  Miml,  Lect.  x.\vi.  pp.  t>l6,  647. 

41 


822  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXUi. 

sophically  absurd  ;  on  the  law  of  parciniony,  a  psychological  unita- 
rianisni  is  established.  To  the  argument,  that  the  qualities  of  the 
object,  are  so  repugnant  to  the  qualities  of  the  subject,  of  percep- 
tion, that  they  cannot  be  supposed  the  accidents  of  the  same  sub- 
stance, the  unitarian  —  whether  materialist,  idealist,  or  absolutist,  — 
has  only  to  reply  :  —  that  so  far  from  the  attributes  of  the  object 
being  exclusive  of  the  attributes  of  the  subject,  in  this  act,  the 
hypothetical  dualist  himself  establishes,  as  the  fundamental  axiom 
of  his  philosophy  of  mind,  that  the  object  known  is  universally 
identical  with  the  subject  knowing.  The  materialist  may  now 
derive  the  subject  from  the  object,  the  idealist  derive  the  object 
from  the  subject,  the  absolutist  sublimate  both  into  indifference^ 
nay,  the  nihilist  subvert  the  substantial  reality  of  either;  —  the 
hypothetical  realist,  so  far  from  being  able  to  i-esist  the  conclusion 
of  any,  in  fact  accords  their  assumptive  premises  to  all.  * 

So  far,  therefore,  is  Brown's  ai'gument  from  inferring  the  conclu- 
sion, that  Reid  could  not  have  maintained  our  immediate  percep- 
tion of  external  objects,  that  not  only  is  its  inference  expressly 
denied  by  Reid,  but  if  properly  applied,  it  would  prove  the  very 
converse  of  what  Brown  employs  it  to  establish. 

But  there  is  a  ground  considerably  stronger  than  that  on  which 
Brown  has  attempted  to  evince  the  identity  of 

Reid's    equalizing         n    .  n,  .    .  .  •  ,    ,  .  m,  . 

Perception  and  imagi-  ^^^id  s  opuiion  on  perception  With  his  own.  This 
nation,  a  ground  en  ground  is  liis  equalizing  Perception  and  Imag- 
which  he  may  be  sup-       ination.      (Under  Imagination,  you   will    again 

posed    not  a   Natural  ■,  j.\     t.    t    •       i     ^       n    ■  t>      n  ^-  j 

^    ,. ,  observe,  that  1  include  Reid  s  Loncei)tion  and 

Bealist.  '  _  ' 

Memory.)  Other  philosophers  brought  percep- 
tion into  unison  with  imagination,  by  making  perception  a  faculty 
of  mediate  knowledge.  Reid,  on  the  contrary,  has  brought  imagina- 
tion into  unison  with  2)erception,  by  calling  iniagination  a  fliculty  of 
immediate  knowledge.  Now  as  it  is  manifest  that,  in  an  act  of 
imagination,  the  object-object  is  and  can  possibly  be  known  only, 
mediately,  through  a  representation,  it  follows  that  we  must  per- 
force adopt  one  of  two  alternatives,  —  we  may  either  suppose  that 
Reid  means  by  immediate  knowledge  only  that  simpler  form  of 
representation  from  which  the  idea  or  tertium  quid,  intermediate 
between  the  external  reality  and  the  conscious  mind,  is  thrown  out, 

or  that,  in  his  extreme  horror  of  the  hypothesis 

But  may  be  explained       of  ideas,  he  has  altogether  overlooked  the  fun- 

consistently  with  his       elemental  distinctioirof  mediate  and  immediate 

doctrine    of    Natural  .   .  .  r-        t   •  r- 

Ugajjgm,  cognition,  by  which  the  faculties  of  perception 

and  imagination  are  discriminated ;  and  that 
thus  his  very  anxiety  to  separate  more  widely  his  own  doctrine  ot 


Lect.  XXIII.  METAPHYSICS.  323 

intuition  from  the  representative  hypothesis  of  the  philosophers, 
has,  in  fact,  caused  him  ahnost  inextricably  to  confound  the  two 
opinions. 

That  tills  latter  alternative  is  greatly  the  more  probable,  I  shall 
now  proceed  to  show  you ;  and  in  doing  this,  I 

Positive     evidence         ■,  ^     i  •  •     i  j.i  ^        ^ 

...  ...  J.  .J XT  X     ,       beg  you  to  keep  in  mind  the  necessarv  contrasts 

that  Keid  held  Natural  .  .  .         .   .         ". 

Keaiism.  by  M'hich  an  immediate  or  intuitive  is  oitposed 

to  a  mediate  or  representf^tive  cognition.  The 
question  to  be  solved  is,  —  Does  Re  id  hold  thnt  in  perception  we 
immediately  know  the  external  reality,  in  its  own  qualities,  as  ex- 
isting ;  or  only  mediately  know  them,  through  a  representative 
modification  of  the  mind  itself?  Tn  tlie  following  proot^  I  select 
only  a  few  out  of  a  great  number  of  passages  which  might  be  ad- 
duced from  the  writings  of  Reid,  in  support  of  the  same  conclusions- 
I  am,  however,  contident  that  they  are  sufficient ;  and  quutations 
longer  or  more  numerous  would  tend  rather  to  obs^^^ure  than  to 
illustrate. ' 

In  tlic  first  place,  knowledge  and  existence  are  then  only  con- 
vertible when  the  reality  is  known   in    itself; 
Application  of  ti.e       f^j.   tjien    only  can  we    say,   that  it    is   known 

conditions    of   Imme-  i  •.  •    ,  ,  .   '         .  ... 

,.  ^     „       ,  ,      .         because  it  exists,  and  exists  since  it  is  known. 

diate    Knowledge    to  _  _ 

Kc-id's  statements.  -^nJ  this  constitutes  ail  immediate  or  intuitive 

cognition,  rigorously  so  called.  Nor  did  Reid 
contemplate  any  other.  "It  seems  admitted,"  he  says,  "as  a  first 
j)rinciple,  by  the  learned  and  the  unlearned,  that  what  is  really 
perceived  must  exist,  and  that  to  perceive  Avhat  does  not  exist,  i» 
im]>ossible.      So  far  the  unlearned  man  and  the  philosopher  aofree."^ 

In  the  second  j)lace,  philosophers  agree,  that  the  idea  or  repre- 
sentative object,  in  their  tlieoiy,  is,  in  tlio  strictest  sense,  immedi- 
ately perceived.  .\iid  so  Reid  understands  them.  "I  |ierceive 
not,  says  the  Cartesian,  the  external  ol)ject  itself  (so  fiir  he  aijrees 
witli  the  Perijiatetic,  and  differs  from  the  unlearned  man)  ;  but  I 
perceive  an  image,  or  form,  or  idea,  in  my  own  miml,  ur  in  mv 
brain.  I  am  certain  of  the  existence  of  the  idea,  because  I  imme- 
diately perceive  it.'"' 

In  the  third  ])lace,  j)hi]oso])hers  concur  in  acknowledging  that 
m.-mkind  .at  large  believe  that  the  external  reality  itself  constitutes 
the  immediate  and  only  object  of  perception.  So  also  lieid:  "On 
the  same  ])nnciple,  tlie  unlearned  man  say.s,  I  j>ei"ceive  the  external 
object,   and    I    ]ierceive    it   to   exist."  —  "The   vulgar  undoubtedly 

1  Sec    this    question    discussed    in    Rfiil's  2  Works,  p.  274.  —  Ed. 

Work},  Suppl.  Dissert.  -Note  C,  §  ii.  p.  819  et  3  Ibid.  —Ed. 

srq.     Compare  Discussions,  p.  58  et  seq.  —  Ed. 


824  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIU 

believe  that  it  is  the  external  object  which  we  immediately  per- 
ceive, and  not  a  representative  image  of  it  only.  It  is  for  this 
reason  that  they  look  upon  it  as  perfect  lunacy  to  call  in  question 
the  existence  of  external  objects."^  —  "The  vulgar  are  firmly  per- 
suaded that  the  very  identical  objects  which  they  perceive,  con- 
tinue to  exist  when  they  do  not  perceive  them :  and  are  no  less 
firmly  persuaded,  that  when  ten  men  look  at  the  sun  or  the  moon 
they  all  see  the  same  individual  object."^  Speaking  of  Berkeley, — 
*'The  vulgar  opinion  he  reduces  to  this,  that  the  very  things  which 
we  perceive  by  our  senses  do  really  exist.  This  he  grants."^ — "It 
is,  therefore,  acknowledged  by  this  philosopher  to  be  a  natural 
instinct  or  prepossession,  an  universal  and  primary  opinion  of 
all  men,  that  the  objects  which  we  immediately  j^erceive  by  our 
senses  are  not  images  in  our  minds,  but  external  objects,  and  that 
their  existence  is  independent  of  us  and  our  i^erception."* 

In  the  fourth  place,  all  philosophers  agree  that  consciousness  has 
an  immediate  knowledge,  and  affords  an  absolute  certainty  of  the 
reality,  of  its  object.  Reid,  as  we  haA'e  seen,  limits  the  name  of 
consciousness  to  self-consciousness,  that  is,  to  the  immediate  knowl- 
edge we  j^ossess  of  the  modifications  of  self;  Avhereas,  he  makes 
perception  the  faculty  by  which  we  are  immediately  cognizant  of 
the  qualities  of  the  not-self 

In  these  circumstances,  if  Reid  either,  1°,  Maintain,  that  his 
immediate  perception  of  external  things  is  convertible  with  their 
reality;  or,  2°,  Assert,  that,  in  his  doctrine  of  perception,  the 
external  reality  stands  to  the  percipient  mind  face  to  face,  in  the 
same  immediacy  of  relation  Avhich  the  idea  holds  in  the  representa- 
tive theory  of  the  philosophers ;  or,  3°,  Declare  the  identity  of  his 
own  opinion  with  the  vulgar  belief,  as  thus  expounded  by  himself 
and  the  jDhilosophers ;  or,  4°,  Declare,  that  his  Perception  affords  us 
equal  evidence  of  the  existence  of  external  phaenomena,  as  his 
Consciousness  affords  us  of  the  existence  of  internal;  —  in  all  and 
each  of  these  suppositions,  he  would  unambiguously  declare  him- 
self a  natural  realist,  and  evince  that  his  doctrine  of  perception  is 
one  not  of  a  mediate  or  representatiA-e,  but  of  an  immediate  or 
intuitive  knowledge.     And  he  does  all  four. 

The  first  and  second.  —  "  We  have  before  examined  the  reasons 
given  by  philosophers  to  proA^e  that  ideas,  and  not  external  objects, 
are  the  immediate  objects  of  perception.  We  shall  only  here 
observe,  that  if  external  objects  be  perceived  immediately"  [and 

1  Works,  p.  274.  —Ed.  3  Wcnks.  p.  284.  —  Ed. 

2  Ibid.,  p.  284.  —  Ed.  ■*  Ibid.,  p.  2'J9.  —  Ed. 


Lkct.  XXm.  METAPHYSICS.  325 

he  liad  just  before  asserted  for  the  hundredth  time  that  they  were 
60  perceived],  "  we  have  the  same  reason  to  believe  their  existence 
as  philosophers  have  to  believe  the  existence  of  ideas,  while  they 
hold  them  to  be  the  immediate  objects  of  perception."^ 

The  third.  —  Speaking  of  the  perception  of  the  external  world, 
—  "  We  have  here  a  remarkable  conflict  betAveen  two  contradictory 
ojiinions,  wherein  all  mankind  are  engaged.  On  the  one  side,  stand 
all  the  vulgar,  who  are  unpractised  in  pliilosophical  researches,  and 
guided  by  the  uncorrupted  primary  instincts  of  nature.  On  the 
other  side,  stand  all  the  philoso))hers,  ancient  and  modern ;  every 
man,  without  exception,  who  reflects.  In  this  division,  to  my 
great  humiliation,  I  find  myself  classed  with  the  vulgar." - 

The  fourth. —  "Philosophers  sometimes  say  that  Ave  perceive 
ideas,  —  sometimes  that  we  are  conscious  of  them.  T  can  have 
no  doubt  of  tlie  existence  of  anything  Avhich  I  either  perceive,  or 
of  which  I  am  conscious ;  but  I  cannot  find  that  I  either  j^erceive 
ideas  or  am  conscious  of  them.'"^ 

Various  other  proofs  of  the  same  conclusion  could  be  adduced ; 
these,  for  brevity,  we  omit. 

On  these  grounds,  therefore,  I  am  confident  ihat  Reid's  doctrine 
of  Perception  must  be  pronounced  a  doctrine 

Oencral  conclusion,  £•   t    j.    -j.-  i  j.       r-   -rt  a.    j.'  i 

ot   Intuition,  and  not  of   Kepresentation :   and 

and  caution.  '  ^  ' 

tliough,  as  I  have  shown  you,  thci-e  are  cer- 
tainly some  ])lausible  arguments  Avhich  might  be  alleged  in  su}>- 
port  of  the  opi)Osite  conclusion ;  still,  these  are  greatly  over- 
balanced by  stronger  positivq  proofs,  and  by  the  general  analogy 
of  his  j)hiloso2"»hy.  And  here  I  would  impress  ujion  you  an  im- 
portant lesson.  That  Reid,  a  distinguished  philosoplier,  and  even 
the  founder  of  ati  illustrious  school,  could  be  so  greatly  miscon- 
ceived, as  that  an  eminent  disciple  of  that  school  itself  should 
actually  reverse  the  fundamental  jirinciple  of  his  doctrine,  —  this 
may  excite  your  wonder,  but  it  ouglit  not  to  move  you  to  disj)nrage 
either  the  talent  of  the  philosopher  misconceived,  or  of  the  pliiloso- 
pher  misconceiving.  It  ought,  however,  to  prove  to  you  the  ])er- 
manent  importance,  not  only  in  speculation,  but  in  practice,  of 
precise  thinking.  You  ought  never  to  rest  content,  so  long  as 
there  is  aught  vague  or  indefinite  in  your  reasonings,  —  so  long 
as  vou  have  not  analvzed  everA^  notion  into  its  elements,  and 
excluded  the  possibility  of  all  lurking  ambiguity  in  your  expres- 
sions.     One  great,  perhaps  the  one  greatest  advantage,  resulting 

1  Works,  p.  446.  Cf.  pp.  263,  272.  —  Ed.  2  Works,  p.  302.  —  Ed. 

3  Works,  p.  373.  —  Ed. 


326  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIU 

from  the  cultivation  of  Philosophy,  is  the  habit  it  induces  of  vigor- 
ous thought,  that  is,  of  allowing  nothing  to  pass  without  a  search- 
ing examination,  either  in  your  own  speculations,  or  in  those  of 
others.  We  may  never,  perhaps,  arrive  at  truth,  but  we  can 
always  avoid  self-contradiction. 


I 


LECTURE    XXIV. 


THE    PREVENTATIVE    FACULTY. 

J, -—PERCEPTION.  THE     DISTINCTION     OF     PERCEPTION     PROPER     FROM     SENSA- 
TION   PROPER. 

In  my   last   Lecture,   hfiving   concTn(^lefI   the    revieTr   of  Reicl's 
Historical  Account  of  Opinions  on  Perception, 

Recapitulation.  -,        i^    t^  ,  i  i  t 

and  of  Brown  s  attack  upon  that  account,  1 
proceeded  to  the  question,  —  Is  Keid's  own  doctrine  of  perception 
a.  scheme  of  Natural  Realism,  that  is,  diel  he  accept  in  its  integrity 
the  datum  of  consciousness,  —  that  we  are  immediately  cognitive 
hoth  of  the  phrenomena  of  matter  and  of  the  phaenomena  of  mind  j 
or  did  he,  like  Brown,  and  the  greater  number  of  more  recent 
philosophers,  as  Brown  assumes,  hold  only  the  finer  form  of  the 
representative  hypothesis,  Avhich  supposes  that,  in  perception,  the 
external  reality  is  not  the  immediate  ohject  of  consciousness,  but 
that  the  ego  is  only  detennined  in  some  unkno\t'n  manner  to  rep- 
resent the  non-ego,  which  representation,  though  only  a  modiftca- 
tion  of  mind  or  self,  we  are  compelled,  by  an  il'lusion  of  our  nature, 
to  mistake  for  a  modification  of  matter,  or  not-self?  I  statcnl  to 
you  how,  on  tlie  determination  of  this  question,  depended  netirly 
the  whole  of  Rerd's  philosophical  repntation  ;  hrs.  philosophy  pro^ 
fesses  to  subvert  the  foun(hitions  of  idealism  and  skepticism,  and 
it  is  as  having  accomplished  what  he  thus  attempte<l,  that  any 
principal  or  peculiar  glory  can  be  awanled  to  him.  But  if  all  he 
did  was  merely  to  explode  the  cmder  hypothesis  of  representation, 
and  to  adopt  in  its  place  the  finer,  —  why,  in  the  fii-st  place,  so  far 
from  (T('])riving  idealism  and  skepticism  of  all  basis,  he  only  pl.-iced 
them  on  one  firmer  and  more  secure ;  antl,  in  the  .second,  so  far 
from  origin.iting  a  new  opinion,  he  could  only  have  a^-fd^d  oue  to 
a  class  of  philosophers,  who,  .after  the  time  of  Arnanld,  were  con- 
tinually on  the  increase,  and  who,  :miong  the  contemporaries  of 
Reid  himself^  certainly  constituted  the  majority.  HI**  ]>hil<>sophy 
would  thus  be  art  once  only  a  silly  blunder;  its  pretenee  to-  origin- 
ality only  a  proclamation  of  ignor.ance  ^  and  so  far  from  being  an 


328  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIY. 

honor  to  the  nation  from  Avliich  it  arose,  and  by  whom  it  was 
respected,  it  would,  in  fact,  be  a  scandal  and  a  reproach  to  the 
philosophy  of  any  country  in  which  it  met  with  any  milder  treat- 
ment than  derision. 

Previously,  however,  to  the  determination  of  this  question,  it 
was  necessary  to  place  before  yoix,  more  distinctly  than  had  hith- 
erto been  done,  the  distinction  of  Mediate  or  Representative  from 
Immediate  or  Intuitive  knowledge,  —  a  distinction  which,  though 
overlooked,  or  even  abolished,  in  the  modern  systems  of  philoso- 
phy, is,  both  in  itself  and  in  its  consequences,  of  the  highest 
importance  in  psychology.  Throwing  out  of  view,  as  a  now  ex- 
ploded hypothesis,  the  cruder  doctrine  of  representation,  —  that^ 
namely,  Avhich  supposes  the  immediate,  or  representative  oVtject 
to  be  something  different  from  a  mere  modification  of  mind, — 
from  the  mere  energy  of  cognitions,  —  I  articulately  displayed  to- 
you  these  two  kinds  of  knowledge  in  their  contrasts  and  correla- 
tions. They  are  thus  defined.  Intuitive  or  immediate  knowledge 
is  that  in  Avhich  there  is  only  one  object,  and  in  which  that  object 
is  known  .  in  itself,  or  as  existing.  Representative  or  mediate 
knowledge,  on  the  contrary,  is  that  in  which  there  are  two  objects^ 
' — an  immediate  and  a  mediate  object;  —  the  immediate  object  or 
that  known  in  itself,  being  a  mere  subjective  or  mental  mode 
relative  to  and  representing  a  reality  beyond  the  sphere  of  con- 
sciousness ; —  the  mediate  object  is  that  reality,  thus  supposed  and 
represented.  As  an  act  of  representative  knowledge  involves  an 
intuitive  cognition,  I  took  a  special  example  of  such  an  act.  I 
supposed  that  we  called  up  to  our  minds  the  image  of  the  Ilic/h 
Church.  Now,  here  the  immediate  object,  —  the  object  of  con- 
sciousness, is  the  mental  image  of  that  edifice.  This  we  know,  and 
know  not  as  an  absolute  object,  but  as  a  mental  object  relative  to. 
a  material  object  which  it  represents ;  which  material  object,  in 
itself,  is,  at  present,  beyond  the  reach  of  our  faculties  of  immediatcr 
knowledge,  and  is,  therefore,  only  mediately  known  in  its  repre- 
sentation. You  must  observe  that  the  mental  image,  —  the  imme- 
diate object,  is  not  really  different  from  the  cognitive  act  of  im- 
agination itself.  In  an  act  of  mediate  or  representative  knowledge,, 
the  cognition  and  the  immediate  object  are  really  an  identical, 
modification,  —  the  cognition  and  the  object,  —  the  imagination 
and  the  image,  being  nothing  more  than  the  mental  representation, 
—  the  mental  reference  itself.  The  indivisible  modification  is  dis- 
tinguished by  two  names,  because  it  involves  a  relation  between 
two  terms  (the  two  terms  being  the  mind  knowing  and  the  thing 
represented),  and  may,  consequently,  be  viewed  in  more  proximate 


h 


Lect.  XXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  329 

reference  to  the  one  or  to  the  other  of  these.  Looking  to  the 
mind  knowing,  it  is  called  a  cognition,  an  act  of  knowledge,  aa 
imagination,  etc. ;  —  looking  to  the  thing  represented,  it  is  called 
a  representation,  an  object,  an  image,  an  idea,  etc. 

All  i)hilosophers  admit  that  the  knowledge  of  our  present  mental 
states  is  immediate  :  if  we  discount  some  verbal  ambiguities,  all 
would  admit  that  our  actual  knowledge  of  all  that  is  not  now  exist- 
ent, or  not  now  existent  within  the  si)here  of  consciousness,  must  be 
mediate  or  representative.  The  only  point  on  which  any  serious 
difference  of  opinion  can  obtain  is,  —  Whether  the  ego  or  mind  can 
be  more  than  mediately  cognizant  of  the  pluenomena  of  the  non-ego 
or  matter. 

I  then  detailed  to  you  the  grounds  on  which  it  ought  to  be  held 
that   Reid's    doctrine   of   Perception   is   one   of 

Summary  of  the  rea-       Natural    Realism,   and   not  a   form  of   Cosmo- 

sons  for  holding  Keid 

a  Natural  Ucaiist.  thetic   Idealism,  as    supposed   by   Brown.     An. 

immediate  or  intuitive  knowledge  is  the  knowl- 
edge of  a  thing  as  existing,  —  consequently,  in  this  case,  knowledge 
and  existence  infer  each  other.  On  the  one  hand,  we  know  the 
object  because  it  exists,  —  and,  on  the  otlier,  the  object  exists,  since 
it  is  known.  This  is  expressly  maintained  by  Reid,  and  universally 
admitted  by  ])hilosophers.  In  the  first  place,  on  this  principle,  the 
philosophers  hold  that  ideas  (whether  on  the  one  hypothesis  of 
representation,  or  on  the  other)  necessarily  exist,  because  immedi- 
ately known.  Xow,  if  Reid,  fully  aware  of  this,  assert  that,  on  his 
doctrine,  the  external  reality  holds,  in  the  act  of  perception,  the 
same  immediate  relation  to  the  mind,  in  which  the  idea  or  represen- 
tative inuxge  stands  in  the  doctrine  of  philosophers ;  nnd  that,  con- 
sequently, on  the  one  opinion,  we  have  the  same  assurance  of  the 
existence  of  the  material  world,  as,  on  the  other,  of  the  reality  of 
the  ideal  world;  —  if,  I  say,  he  does  this,  he  unambiguously  pro- 
claims himself  a  natural  realist.  And  that  this  he  actuallv  does,  I 
showed  you  by  various  quotations  from  his  writings. 

In  the  second  place,  upon  the  same  jjancijile,  mankind  :it  large 
believe  in  the  existence  of  tlie  external  universe,  because  they 
believe  that  the  external  \iniverse  is  bv  them  immeiliatelv  iierceive<h 
This  fact,  I  showed  you,  is  acknowledged  both  by  the  pliilosophors, 
who  regard  tlie  common  belief  itself  as  an  illusion,  antl  by  Rei<l. 
In  these  circumstances,  if  Reid  declares  that  lie  coincides  Avith  tlie 
vulgar,  in  opjiosition  to  the  learneil,  belief,  lie  must  again  be  held 
unambiguiiusly  to  ])ronounee  his  doctrine  of  perception  a  scheme 
of  natural  realism.  Ami  that  lie  einpliatieally  makes  this  declara* 
tion,  I  also  proved  to  you  by  smeli  y  passages. 

42 


330  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIV. 

In  the  third  pLace,  Reid  iind  all  pliilosophers  are  at  one  in  main- 
taining that  self-consciousness,  as  immediately  cognizant  of  our 
mental  modifications,  aifords  us  an  absolute  assurance  of  their  exist- 
ence. If  then  Reid  hold  that  perception  is  as  immediately  cognizant 
of  the  external  modification,  as  self-consciousness  is  of  the  internal, 
and  that  the  one  cognition  thus  aifords  us  an  equal  certainty  of  the 
reality  of  its  object  as  does  the  other,  —  on  this  supposition,  it  is 
manifest  that  Reid,  a  third  time,  unambiguously  declares  his  doc- 
trine of  perception  a  doctrine  of  natural  realism.  And  that  he 
does  so,  I  proved  by  various  quotations. 

I  might  have  noticed,  in  the  fourth  place,  that  Reid's  assertion, 
that  our  belief  in  the  existence  of  external  things  is  immediate,  and 
not  the  result  of  inference  or  reasoning,  is  wholly  incompatible  with 
the  doctrine  of  a  representative  i>erception.  I  do  not,  however,  lay 
much  stress  on  this  argument,  because  we  may  possibly  suspect  that 
he  makes  the  same  mistake  in  regard  to  the  term  imniediate,  as 
applied  to  this  belief,  which  he  does  in  its  application  to  our  repre- 
sentative cognitions.  But,  independently  of  this,  the  three  former 
arguments  are  amply  stifticient  to  establish  our  conclusion. 

These  are  the  grounds  on  which  I  would  maintain  that  Brown 
has  not  only  mistaken,  but  absolutely  reversed  the  fundamental 
principle  of  Reid's  philosophy  ;  although  it  must  be  confessed,  that 
the  error  and  pei-plexity  of  Reid's  exposition,  arising  from  his  non- 
distinction  of  the  two  possible  forms  of  representation,  and  his 
confusion  of  representative  and  of  intuitive  knowledge,  afford  a 
not  incompetent  apology  for  those  who  might  misapprehend  his 
meaning.  In  this  discussion,  it  may  be  matter  of  surprise,  that  I 
have  not  called  in  the  e^ndence  of  Mr.  Stewart.  The  truth  is, — 
his  writings  afford  no  applicable  testimony  to  the  point  at  issue. 
His  own  statements  of  the  doctrine  of  perception  are  brief  and 
general,  and  he  is  content  to  refer  the  reader  to  Reid  for  the 
details. 

Of  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  perception  of  external  objects, — 

which,  as  a  foct  of  consciousness,  ought  to  be 

Reid  the  first  Cham-       unconditionally  admitted,  —  Reid  has  the  merit, 

pion  of  Natural  Kcai-         j^  ^j^^^^  j.^^^^^.  '^^^  ^^  ^.         ^^^  ^^^^  champion, 

ism     in    these     latter  ^  i     i        • 

times.  I  have  already  noticed  that,  among  the  scholastic 

jihilosophers,  there  were  some  who  maintained 
the  same  doctrine,  and  with  far  greater  clearness  and  comprehension 
than  Reid.^  These  opinions  are,  however,  even  at  this  moment,  I 
may  say,  wholly  unknown  ;  and  it  would  be  ridiculous  to  suppose 
that  their  speculations  had  exerted  any  influence,  direct  or  indirect, 

1  See  above,  pp  292,  300,  316,  notes.  —  Kd 


Lect.  XXIV. 


METAPHYSICS, 


331 


Two  modern  philos- 
ophers, jireviously  to 
Reid,  held  Intuitive 
Perception. 


upon  a  thinker  so  imperfectly  acquainted  with  what  had  been  done 
by  previous  philosophers,  as  Reid.     Since  the  revival  of  letters,  I 

have  met  with  only  two,  anterior  to  Reid,  whose 
doctrine  on  the  present  question  coincided  with 
his.  One  of  these  may,  indeed,  be  discounted; 
for  he  has  stated  his  opinions  in  so  paradoxical 
a  manner,  that  his  authority  is  hardly  worthy  of 
notice.i  The  other,'  who  flourished  about  a  century  before  Reid, 
has,  on  the  contrary,  stated  the  doctiine  of  an  intuitive,  and  refuted 
the  counter  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception,  with  a  brevity, 
perspicuity,  and  precision,  far  superior  to  the  Scottish  philosoi)her. 
Both  of  these  authors,  I  may  say,  are  at  present  wholly  unknown. 

Having  concluded  the  argument  by  which  I  endeavored  to  satisfy 
you  that  Reid's  doctrine  is  Natural  Realism,  I  should  now  proceed 
to  show  that  Natural  Realism  is  a  more  philosophical  doctrine  than 
Hyj)Othetical  Realism.  Before,  however,  taking  up  the  sul)joct,  I 
think  it  better  to  dispose  of  certain  subordinate  matters,  with  which 
it  is  j>roper  to  have  some  preparatory  acquaintance. 

Of  these  the  first  is  the  distinction  of  Perception  Proper  from 
Sensation  Proper. 


1  The  philosopher  here  meant  is  probably 
John  Sergeant,  who  inculcated  a  doctrine  of 
Realism  a;rainst  modem  philosophers  jjener- 
ally,  aiid  Locke  in  particular,  —  in  his  Met/wd 
to  Sritncf:  (iriiMj),  and  Solid  Philosophy  asserted 
against  the  Fancies  nf  the  Heists  (1697).  See, 
of  the  latter  work.  Preface,  especially  §§  7, 
18.  i;t;  pp  23,  42,  44,  58  et  seq.,  142,  338  et  seq. 
See  Le!ow,  p.  353.  —  Ed. 

1!  The  latter  of  the  two  philosophers  here 
referred  to,  is  doubtless  Peter  Poiret.  He  is 
meiifioned  in  the  Author's  Common-Place 
Book,  as  holdin};  amr)re  correct  opinion  than 
Ueid  on  the  point  rai.sed  in  the  te.\t.  Poiret 
Was  bcirii  in  V'Ai't,  and  died  in  1719.  He  states 
his  doctrine  as  follows:  '-In  nobis  duplicis 
generis  (saltern  quantum  ad  coguitionem, 
70Cf  liac  late  sumpta)  facultates  iiiesse;  reales 
«ltera-^,  qua?  res  ipsas;  alteras  timbratiles, 
qii;i-  rcriim  jiicturas,  uinl)rasve  sive  i'leas  ex- 
liibcaiit  ;  et  utrasque  quideni  facultates  iUsis 
iterum  duplices  e.xistere;  nempe,  vel  reales 
gpiritales.  pro  rebus  spiritnllbus;  vel  realeg 
corpcrcas,  pro  rebus  niaterialibus.  Spiritnlts 
Tenlrs  .-iunt  i>assivus  intellcetus  ^(■nsus<|ti('  .•^pir- 
Uales  et  incimi.  qui  ab  of>jectij»  ijinis  renlibns 
ac  spiritalibus,  eorumvo  etiluviis  veris-atficiun- 
tur.  .  .  .  CorpoTfiT  rc/i/i',?.  fiieiiltatcs  sunt  (line 
in  neifotio)  vi»ni»sensus<|ne  ceferi  cnrpnrei  qui 
ab  objectis  i]>sis  corporeis  alfecti,  eorum  e.\- 
llibeiit  nobis  cou^nitiomm  tensualr.  UmhratHes 
autem  facultates (qu;c  snnt  ipsa  hominis.  Ratio 


sive  intellectus  activus)  comparent  maxime, 
quaudo  objectis  sive  rebus  <iua;  facultates 
reales  affecerunt,  eorumque  affectione  et  efflu- 
viis  absentibus,  mens  activitate  suaeorumdem 
imagines  sive  ideas  in  se  e.xcitat  et  cousiderat. 
Et  hoc  qiiidem  modo  idealiter  sive  per  ideam 
possunt  quoqne  cognosci,  Deiu,  Mentes,  Cor- 
pora.'" Cogitationes  Rationales,  lib.  ii.  c.  iv.  p. 
176,  (edit.  1715) — first  published  apparently 
in  1675.     Again  he  says:  'Tntcllectti.s  triplex. 

Intellectus  sive  facultas  percipiendi, 

cujus  objectum  ipseniet  Deus  est  ejus<iue  di- 
vina?  op<'rationes  ac  emanafiones,  dicitur  a 
me  incellertus  ditinus,  ac  n»ere  passivui  sive 
receptivus;  qui  etiam  intelligentia  dici  potest. 
Intellectus,  sive  facultas  percipiendi,  cujus 
objectum  sujit  rea  bujns  niiindi  natnrales 
earutnciue  realia  effluvia,  dicitur  a  me  intel- 
lectus animalis  sive  sensimlis,  qui  <|Uik(us 
mere  prissiviis  est.  Intellectus  vero  cajua 
objecta  sunt  picturx  et  imagines  ac  idea 
rcrum,  quas  ipscmet  format  et  varie  regit, 
give  imagines  illa>  ideane  siiit  de  rebus  spirlt- 
alibns  sive  de  corjjoreis,  dicitur  a  me  Ratio 
hutiiann  vel  intellectus  artirus  et  jiirtwarius 
.  .  .  infelFectus  idealis.  Defensio  Melhodi  In- 
venitiuli  Verum,  H  2,  4,  p.  113.  Cf.  H  I,  5, 
Opera  Po.tMuma,  (edit.  1721).  CC  Ilis  De  Vera 
ItT'thodn  Inreniemli  VTum,  pars  i,  ^^  20,  21,  pp. 
23,  24.  (1st  edit.  li)!12), —  prefixed  to  his  D* 
Eruditiont.    -See  p.  2lJ3,  note  2.  —  ED. 


332  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXIV. 

I  have  had  occasion  to  mention,  tliat  the  word  Perception  is,  in 

the  hxnguage  of  pliilosophers  previous  to  Reid, 

The  distinction  of  Per-       used  in  a  Very  extensive  signification.     By  Des- 

ception  Proper  from       cartes,  Malebranche,  Locke,  Leibnitz,  and  others^ 

Sensalion  Proper.  ...  it-  i  -i      . 

Use  of  the  term  Per-  ^*  ^^  employed  m  a  sense  almost  as  unexclusive 
ception  previously  to  as  consciousness  in  its  widest  signification.  By 
Ke'd.  Reid,   this   word   was    limited    to    our   faculty 

acquisitive  of  knowledge,  and  to  that  branch  of 
this  faculty  whereby,  through  the  senses,  we  obtain  a  knowledge  of 
the  external  world.  But  his  limitation  did  not  stop  here.  In  the 
act  of  external  perception,  he  distinguished  two  elements,  to  which 
he  gave  the  names  of  Perception  and  Sensation.  He  ouolit,  per- 
haps, to  have  called  these  perception  j^rop^er  and  sensation  proper ^ 
when  employed  in  his  special  meaning ;  for,  in  the  language  of 
other  philosophers,  sensation  was  a  term  which  included  his  Per- 
ception, and  p>erceptlon  a  term  comprehensive  of  what  he  called 
Sensation. 

There  is  a  great  want  of  precision  in  Reid's  account  of  Perception 

and  Sensation.      Of  Perception   he  says :    "  If, 

ei  »  accoun    o        therefore,  we  attend  to  that  act  of  our  niindi 

Perception.  ,  _  ^ 

which  we  call  the  perception  of  an  external 
object  of  sense,  we  shall  find  in  it  these  three  things.  Firsts 
Some  conception  or  notion  of  the  object  perceived.  Secondly,  A 
strong  and  irresistible  conviction  and  belief  of  its  present  existence  J 
and.  Thirdly,  That  this  conviction  and  belief  are  immediate,  and 
not  the  eflfect  of  reasoning. 

'■'■First,  it  is  impossible  to  perceive  an  object  without  having  some 
notion  or  conception  of  what  we  percei\e.  We  may  indeed  con- 
ceive an  object  which  we  do  not  perceive  ;  but  when  we  perceive 
the  object,  we  must  have  some  conception  of  it  at  the  same  time ; 
and  we  have  commonly  a  more  clear  and  steady  notion  of  the  object 
while  we  perceive  it,  than  we  have  from  memory  or  imagination^ 
Avhen  it  is  not  perceived.  Yet,  even  in  perception,  the  notion  which 
our  senses  give  of  the  object  may  be  more  or  less  clear,  more  or  less 
distinct  in  all  possible  degrees."  ^ 

Now  here  you  will  observe  that  the  "  having  a  notion  or  concep- 
tion," bv  which  he  explains  the  act  of -perception. 

Wanting    in     pre-  -i",*  i-i 

jjjgj^jj  might  at  first  lead  us  to  conclude  that  he  held, 

as  Brown  supposes,  the  doctrine  of  a  represenr- 
tative  perception  ;  for  notion  and  conception  are  generally  used  by 
philosoi^hers  for  a  representation  or  mediate  knowledge  of  a  thing. 

1  Intellectual  Powers,  Essay  ii.  c.  v.     Works,  p.  258.  ; 


I 


> 


Lkct.  XXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  333 

But,  tliougli  lle'ul  cannot  escape  censure  Cor  ambiguity  and  a  agne- 
ness,  it  appears,  from  the  analogy  of  his  writings,  that  by  notion  or 
concejyfionh.e  meant  nothing  more  than  knowledge  or  cognition. 

Sensation  he  thus  describes:  "Almost  all  our  perceptions  have 
corresponding  sensations,  which  constantly  ac- 
Sensation.  company  them,  and,  on  that  account,  are  very 

apt  to  be  confounded  with  them.  Neither  ought  we  to  expect  that 
the  sensation,  and  its  corresponding  perception,  should  be  distin- 
guished in  common  language,  because  the  purposes  of  common  life 
do  not  require  it.  Language  is  made  to  serve  the  ])urposes  of  ordi- 
nary conversation;  and  we  have  no  reason  to  expect  that  it  should 
make  distinctions  that  are  not  of  common  use.  Hence  it  hai)pens 
that  a  quality  perceived,  and  the  sensation  corresponding  to  that 
perception,  often  go  under  the  same  name. 

"  This  makes  the  names  of  most  of  our  sensations  ambiguous, 
and  this  ambiguity  hath  very  much  perplexed  the  philosophers.  It 
will  be  necessary  to  give  some  instances,  to  illustrate  the  distinction 
between  our  sensations  and  the  objects  of  j^erception. 

"  When  I  smell  a  rose,  there  is  in  this  operation  both  sensation 
and  perception.  The  agreeable  odor  I  feel,  considered  by  itself, 
Avithout  relation  to  any  external  object,  is  merely  a  sensation.  It 
affects  the  mind  in  a  certain  way;  and  this  affection  of  the  mind 
may  be  conceived,  without  a  thought  of  the  rose  or  any  other 
object.  This  sensation  can  be  nothing  else  than  it  is  felt  to  be.  Its 
very  essence  consists  in  being  felt ;  and  when  it  is  not  felt,  it  is  not. 
There  is  no  difference  between  the  sensation  and  the  feeling  of  it; 
they  are  one  and  the  same  thing.  It  is  for  this  reason,  that  we 
l»etore  observed,  that  in  sensation,  there  is  no  olyect  distinct  from 
that  act  of  mind  by  which  it  is  felt ;  and  this  holds  true  with  regard 
to  all  sensations. 

"Let  us  next  attend  to  the  ])erception  which  we  have  in  smelling 
arose.  Perception  has  always  an  external  olyect ;  and  the  object 
of  my  i)ercej)tion,  in  this  case,  is  that  quality  in  tlie  rose  which  I 
discern  by  the  sense  of  smell.  Observing  that  the  agreeable  sensa- 
tion is  raised  when  the  rose  is  near,  and  ceases  when  it  is  removed. 
I  aju  led,  by  my  nature,  to  conclude  some  quality  to  be  in  the  rose 
wliich  is  the  cause  of  this  sensation.  This  (piality  in  the  rose  is  the 
object  jterceived ;  and  that  act  of  the  mind,  by  which  I  have  the 
conviction  and  belief  of  this  quality,  is  what  in  this  case  I  call  j>er- 
ce))tion."^ 

Hy  2)ercej)tion,  Reid,  therefore,  means  the  objective  knowledge  we 

J  Int'lUctual  Powers,  Kssay  ii.  ch.  16.     CvU.  Woria,  p.  310. 


334  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXiy 

have  of  an  external  reality,  through  the  senses ;  by  sensation^  the 

subjective    feeling    of   pleasure    or    pain,   with 
Reid  anticipated  ill       which  the  organic  operation  of  sense- is  accom- 

his  distinction  of  Per-  •     -i        n^i  •       t   a-       i-  j?  xi  ^  •      ^-         £• 

panied.     Inis  distinction  oi  the  obiective  from 

ceptiou    from    Sensa-         '  _        _  _  "^ 

tion.  the  subjective  element  in  the  act  is  important. 

Reid  is  not,  however,  the  author  of  this  distinc- 
tion. He  himself  notices  of  Malebranche  that  "he  distinguished  more 
accurately  than  any  philosopher  had  done  before,  the  objects  which 
we  perceive  from  the  sensations  in  our  own  minds,  which,  l)y  the 
laws  of  nature,  always  accompany  the  perception  of  the  object.  As 
in  many  things,  so  particularly  in  this,  he  has  great  merit ;  for  this, 
I  apprehend,  is  a  key  that  oj^ens  the  way  to  a  right  understanding 
both  of  our  external  senses,  and  of  other  powers  of  the  mind."'     I 

may   notice   that    Malebranche's   distinction   is 

Malebranche.  .  -rt    • -ti      -n 

into  Idee,  corresponding  to  lieid  s  Jrerception^ 
and  Sentiment.,  corresponding  to  his  Sensation ;  and  this  distinction 
is  as  ])recisely  marked  in  Malebranche^  as  in  Reid.  Subsequently 
to  Malebranche,  the  distinction  became  even  common ;  and  there  is 

no  reason  for  Mr.  Stewart'^  being  struck  when 

Crousaz,  Hutcheson,  ^^  ^^^^^^  .|  -j.  -j^  ^^^.^^^^^.^  .^„(-[  Hutcheson.  It  is  tO 
Le  Clerc,  Sinsart,  Buf-         ■,       ,.  -^   •       -r  ±  ■        -i-  -  •       -r»    «• 

ggj.  be  found  in  i^e  CI  ere,*  in  Sinsart,''  in  i>uiher,''  m 

Genovesi,^  and  in  many  other  philosophers.  It 
is  curious  that  Malebranche's  distinction  was  apprehended  neither 
by  Locke  nor  by  Leibnitz,  in  their  counter  examinations  of  the 
theory  of  that  philosopher.  Both  totally  mistake  its  import.  Male- 
branche, however,  was  not  the  original  author  of  the  distinction. 

He  himself  professedly  evolves  it  out  of  Des- 

cartes.^      But  long  previously  to  •  Descartes,  it 

had  been  clearly  established.     It  formed  a  part  of  that  admirable 

doctrine  of  perception  maintained  by  the  party  of  the  Schoolmen 

to  whom  I  have  already  alluded.'^     I  find  it,  however,  long  prior  to 

them.      It  is,  in    particular,  stated  with  great 

Plotinus.  .    .         1       -r-.!      •  1ft  T  •     /- 

precision  by  1  lotinus,'"  and  even  some  inferences 
drawn  from  it,  Avhich  are  supposed  to  be  the  discoveries  of  modern 
philosophy. 

1  Intellectual  Powers,  Essay  ii.  eh.  vii.  Coll.  5  [Recueil  des  Pensees  sur  I'  Immortalite  dt 
Works,  p.  265.  V  Ame,  119.]. 

2  Recherche  de  la  Veritc,  lib.  iii.  part  ii.  eh.  C  First  Truths,  part  i.  ch.  xiv.  «6  109—111. 
vi.  and  vii.,  with  Eclaircissement  on  text.  Cf.  Kemarks  on  Crousaz,  art.  viil.  p.  427 
See  lieuPs  Works,  pp.«34,  887.  — Ed.  (Eng.  Trans).  —Eu. 

3  Philosophical  Es.irnjs,  notes  F  and  G.    The  "  [Eltmenta  Metaphysica,  pars  ii.  p.  12.] 
passages   from   Hutcheson  and   Crousaz  are  &  See  Reid'' s  Works,  p.  SSi.. — Ed. 

given  in  Sir  W.  Hamilton's  edition  of  the  0  See  above,   1.   x.xiii.  p.  316,  and    Reid's 

CoUected  Works,  vol.  v.  p.  420.  —  Ed.  Works,  p.  887.  — Ed. 

i  Pneumatologia,  §    i.  cliap.   v.      Opera  Phi-  in  E»in.  iii.  vi   2.    &ee  Reid' s  Works,  yi.  f<?i'.-~ 

lasophica,  torn.  ii.  p.  81  (edit.  1726).  — Ed.  Ed. 


Lkct.  XXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  33-5 

Before  proceeding  to  state  to  you  the  great  law  which  regulates 

the   mutual  relation   of  these  2)hffinoTnen;i,  —  a 

The  nature  of  the       law  which  has  been  wholly  overlooked  by  our 

phaeiiomena,-rercei>-       psvchologists,  —  it  is  proper  to  Say  a  few  words, 

tdon    and    Sensation,         f,   *  .  ^      ,  /■    .  i  '         i 

iUustrated  illustrative    01    the  nature    oi    tlie    jihtenomena 

themselves ;  for  wliat  you  will  find  in  Reid,  is 
by  no  means  either  complete  or  definite. 

The  opposition  of  Perception  and  Sensation  is  true,  but  it  is  not 

a. statement  adequate  to  the  generality  of  the 

The  contrast  of  Per-       contrast.     Percei)tion  is  only  a  special  kind  of 

caption  and  Sensation,         ,  ,     ^  ,  .  .  •    i    i  •     i 

the   special   manifes-  knowledge,  and  scnsation  only   a  special  kind 

tation   of  a  contrast  of  feeling;    and  Knoidedge  and  Feeling,  y(ju 

which  universally  di-  y^.'^n  rccoUect,   are  two  out  of  the  three  great 

vides  Knowledge  and  ^^^           .^^^   ^^.j^.^.^^   ^^.^   primarily   divided  the 

Feeling.  .        '  i  ^  ^ 

phaenomena  of  mind.  Conation  was  the  thuxL 
Xow,  as  perception  is  only  a  special  mode  of  knowledge,  and  sensa- 
tion only  a  special  mode  of  feeling,  so  the  contrast  of  perception 
and  sensation  is  only  the  special  manifestation  of  a  contrast,  which 
universally  divides  the  generic  phajnomena  themselves.  It  ought, 
therefore,  in  the  first  place,  to  liave  been  noticed,  that  the  generic 
phaenomena  of  knowledge  and  feeling  are  always  found  coexistent, 
and  yet  always  distinct;  and  the  opposition  of  perception  and  sensa- 
tion should  have  been  stated  as  an  obtrusive,  but  still  only  a  par- 
ticular example  of  the  general  law.  But  not 
Perception  Proper  only  is  the  distinction  of  perception  and  sensa- 
and   Sensation    Pro-       ^j^j^  j^,,^  rreneralizcd,  — not  referred  to  its  cate- 

per,    precisely    distin-  ,       ^  ...  .^    .  ,  .      , 

g„i,hed.  g^iy.  by  our  i.sychologists;  it  is  not  concisely 

and  precisely  stated.  A  cognition  is  objective, 
that  is,  our  consciousness  is  tlien  relative  to  something  difierent 
from  the  present  state  of  the  mind  itself;  a  feeling,  on  the  contr.iry, 
is  subjective,  that  is,  our  consciousness  is  exclusively  limited  to  the 
])leasure  or  i)ain  exi»erienced  by  tlie  thinking  subject.  Cognition 
and  feehng  are  always  coexistent.  The  purest  act  of  knowledge  is 
always  colored  by  some  feeling  of  pleasure  or  pain  ;  for  no  energy 
is  absolutely  indifferent,  and  the  grossest  feeling  exists  only  as  it  is 
known  in  consciousness.  This  being  the  case  of  cognition  and  fci>l- 
ing  in  general,  the  same  is  true  of  perception  and  sensation  in  par- 
ticular. Perception  proper  is  the  consciousness,  through  the  senses, 
of  the  qualities  of  an  object  known  as  diffci-ent  from  self;  Sensation 
proper  is  the  consciousness  of  the  subjective  affection  of  ])k'asure  or 
pain,  which  accomjtanies  that  act  of  knowledge.  Perception  is  thus 
the  objective  element  in  the  complex  state,  —  the  element  of  cog- 
nition; sensation  is  the  subjective  element,  —  the  element  of  feeling. 


336  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  xxiy 

Tlie  most  remarkable  defect,  however,  in  the  present  doctrine 
upon  this  point,  is  the  ignorance  of  our  psycholo- 

The   grand    law    by  -^^    -^    ^.^        .^|    ^^    ^-^^    ^^^^   .        ^^.^^^^    ^j^^       ,  ^_ 

which  the  phenomena         ^  '-  .   .  i  <> 

of  Knowledge  and  nomcna  of  cognition  and  feeling,  —  of  perception 
Feelicg,  —  Perception  and  scnsatiou,  are  governed,  in  tlieir  reciprocal 
«nd    Sensation,    are       relation.    Tliis  law  is  simple  and  universal ;  and, 

governed  in  their  re-  .  /%  .     ^  -,  . 

ciprocai  relation.  0"^"^  enounccd,  its  proof  IS  found  in  every  men- 

tal  manifestation.  It  is  tliis :  Knowledire  and 
Feeling,  —  Percej^tion  and  Sensation,  though  always  coexistent,  are 
always  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other.^  That  these  two  elements 
are  always  found  in  coexistence,  as  it  is  an  old  and  a  notorious 
truth,  it  is  not  requisite  for  me  to  prove.  But  that  these  elements 
are  always  found  to  coexist  in  an  inverse  proportion,  —  in  supi>ort 
of  this  universal  fact,  it  will  be  requisite  to  adduce  proof  and  illus- 
tration. 

In  doing  this  I  shall,  however,  confine  myself  to  the  relation  of 

Perception    and    Sensation.      These   afford   the 

b,d)ibie    an    i-       bcst  examples  of  the  generic  relation  of  knowl- 

lustrated.  ^         .  ° 

edge  and  feeling ;  and  we  must  not  now  turn 
^side  from  the  special  foculty  with  which  we  are  engaged. 

The  first  2>roof  I   shall  take  from  a  comparison  of  the  several 

senses ;    and  it  will  be  found  that,  j^recisely  as 

1.  From  a  compari-       ^  g^^g^  ^^^^  ^^^^^.^  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^  element,  it  has  less 

fou     of    tlie     several  .  mi  -in 

jgjjgpg  of  the  otlier.     Laying  Touch  aside  for  the  mo- 

ment, as  this  requires  a  special  exjilanation,  the 
other  four  Senses  divide  themselves  into  two  classes,  according  as 
perception,  the  objective  element,  or  sensation,  the  subjective  ele- 
ment, predominates.  The  two  in  which  the  former  element  prevails, 
are  Sight  and  Hearing;  the  two  in  which  the  latter,  are  Taste  and 
Smell.^ 

Now,  here,  it  will  be  at  once  admitted,  that  Sight,  at  the  same 
instant,  presents  to  us  a  fjreater  number  and  a 

Si"ht. 

greater  variety  of  objects  and  qualities,  than 
any  other  of  the  senses.  In  this  sense,  therefore,  perception,  —  the 
objective  element,  is  at  its  maximum.  But  sensation, — the  sub- 
jtective  element,  is  here  at  its  minimum  ;  for,  in  the  eye,  we  experi- 
ence less  organic  pleasure  or  pain  from  the  impressions  of  its  a2)pro- 
priate  objects  (colors),  than  we  do  in  any  other  sense. 

Next  to  Sight,  Hearing  affords  us,  in  the  shortest  interval,  the 

1  This  law  is  enunciated  by  Kant,  Anthro-  sie  viel  lehren  sollen,  miissen  sie  m'issig  affici- 

'  j>o!ogie.  ^  20.    Kant's  words  are,  "  Je  starker  ren."   yl?i</ir.  §  20,(  irerie,  edit.  Rosenkranzaiid 

die  Sinne.  bei  eben  demselben  Grade  des  auf  Schubert,  vii.  part  2,  p  51.)    Sect.  20  of  thic 

sie  geschehenen  Einflusscs,  sicli  afficirt  liihlcn,  edition  corresponds  to  §  19,  edit.  1800.  — Ed 

<defto  weniger  lekren  sie.    Umgekehrt;  wenn  2  Compare  Kant,  Anthropologic^  5  15.  —  Kr 


Lect.  XXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  387 

greatest  variety  and  multitude  of  cognitions;  and  as  siglit  divides 

space  almost  to  infinity,  through  color,  so  hear- 

Hearing.  .  .  ,  . 

mg  does  the  same  to  tmie,  through  sound.  Hear- 
ing is,  however,  much  less  extensive  in  its  sphere  of  knowledge  or 
perception  than  sight ;  hut  in  the  same  proportion  is  its  capacity  of 
feeling  or  sensation  more  intensive.  We  have  greater  pleasure  and 
greater  pain  from  single  sounds  than  fi-om  single  colors ;  and,  in  like 
manner,  concords  and  discords,  in  the  one  sense,  affect  us  more  agree- 
ably or  disagreeably,  than  any  moditications  of  light  in  the  other.^ 
In  Taste  and  Smell,  the  degree  of  sensation,  that  is,  of  pleasure 
or  pain,  is  great  in  proportion  as  the  i)erception, 

Tasic  and   Smell.  ,         •        i       •    r.  ■  ,  «.      -,    . 

that  IS,  the  information  they  afford,  is  small.  In 
ill!  these  senses,  therefore,  —  Sight,  Hearing,  Taste,  Smell,  it  will  be 
admitted  that  the  ])rinciple  holds  good. 

The   sense  of  Touch,  or  Feeling   strictly  so  called,  I   have  re- 
served, as   this   requires    a  word    of  comment. 

Touch.  .       , 

Some  philosophers  include  under  this  name  all 
our  sensitive  jierceptions,  not  obtained  through  some  of  the  four 
special  organs  of  sense,  that  is,  sight,  hcai-ing,' taste,  smell ;  others, 
iigain,  divide  the  sense  into  several.  To  us  at  present  this  differ- 
ence is  of  no  interest:  for  it  is  sufficient  for  us  to  know,  that  in 
those  parts  of  the  body  where  sensation  predominates,  perception 
is  fi'cblo ;  and  in  those  where  perception  is  lively,  sensation  is  obtuse. 
In  the  finger  points,  tactile  perception  is  at  its  height;  but  there 
is  hardly  another  part  of  the  body  in  which  sensation  is  not  more 
acute.  Touch,  or  Feeling  strictly  so  called,  if  viewed  as  a  single 
sense,  belong.s,  therefore,  to  both  classes,  —  the  objective  and  sub- 
jective.    But  it  is  more  correct,  as  we  shall  see,  to  regard  it  as  a 

])lurality  of  senses,  in  which  case  Touch,  prop- 

Toiicli  iiioiieily  aplu-  i  n     n     i         •  •       •       i  •       ^i 

.'    '    *    *  eriv  so  called,  liaving  a  principal  orcran  in  the 

rality  ol  Senses.  •  .  . 

finger  points,  will  belong  to  the  first  class,  —  the 
class  of  objective  senses,  —  the  percej)tions,  —  that  class  in  which 
j)hilosophy  proper  predominates. 

The   analogy,  then,  which  we  have  thus  seen  to  hold  good  in  tho 

several  senses  in  relation  to  each  other,  prevails 

"     "^""^  "'^'-^'^ «^"''       likewise  among  the  several  imi)ressions  of  the 

impri'iisidiis      (if     the  ^  .  .        * 

«anie sense.  Same    seiise.      Tiiijtressions  in    the    same    sense. 

differ  both  in  degree  and  in  quality  or  kind.  By 
i7np7'ession  you  will  observe   that  I  mean  no  explanation  of  the 

1  [In  rcjianl  to  the  subjective  and  objective  as,  what  is  more  subjective  nfrords  a  much 

nature  of  till' siii.<ations  of  the  several  senses,  le.«s  distinct   remembrance.     I'hus,  what   we 

or  rathiT  tlie  perceptions  we  have  through  perceive  by  the  eye,  is  better  remembered 

them,  it  may  be  observed,  that  what  is  more  than  what  we  hear.]  —  Oral  Interpolation. 
objective  is  more  easily  remembered;  where- 

43 


388  METAPHYSICS.  Lfxt.   XXI V- 

mode  in  which  the  external  reality  acts  upon  the  sense  (the  met- 
aphor you  must  disregard),  but  simply  the  fact  of  the  agency  itself! 

Takinff,  then,  their  difference  in  decree,  and  sup- 
Difference  in  degree.  .,       \      -,  ^   ,      .  . 

posmg  that  the  degree  of  the  impression  deter- 
mines the  degree  of  the  sensation,  it  cannot  certainly  be  said,  that 
the  minimum  of  sensation  infers  the  maximum  of  perception  ;  for 
perception  always  supposes  a  certain  quantum  of  sensation  :  but  this 
is  undeniable,  that,  above  a  certain  limit,  perception  declines,  in 
proportion  as  sensation  rises.  Thus,  in  the  sense  of  sight,  if  the 
impression  be  strong  we  are  dazzled,  blinded,  and  consciousness 
is  limited  to  the  pain  or  pleasure  of  the  sensation,  in  the  intensity 
of  which,  perception  has  been  lost. 

Take  now  the  difference,  in  kind,  of  impressions  in  the  same  sense. 

Of  the  senses,  take  again  that  of  Sight.     Siglit, 

Difference  in  kind.       as  will  hereafter  be  shown,  is  cognizant  of  coloi-, 

Sight;  Color,  and  Fig-       ^^^^^  through  color,  of  figure.     But  though  figure 

ure,  as  sources  of  pleas-         .      ,  ■,■,-,  ^  •  r 

IS  known   only  through  color,  a  very  imperfect 


ure 


cognizance  of  color  is  necessary,  as  is  shown  in 
the  case  (and  it  is  riot  a  rare  one)  of  those  individuals  who  have 
not  the  faculty  of  discriminating  colors.     These  persons,  who  prob- 
ably perceive  only  a  certain  difference  of  light  and  shade,  have  as 
clear  and  distinct  a  cognizance  of  figure,  as  others  who  enjoy  the 
sense  of  sight  in  absolute  perfection.     This  being  understood,  you 
will  observe,  that,  in  the  vision  of  color,  there  is  more  of  sensation ; 
in  that  of  figure,  more  of  pei-ception.     Color  affords  our  faculties  of 
knowledofe  a  far  smaller  number  of  differences  and  relations  tlian 
figure  ;  but,  at  the  same  time,  yields  our  capacity  of  feeling  a  far 
more  sensual  enjoyment.     But  if  the  pleasure  we  derive  from  color 
be  more  gross  and  vivid,  that  from  figure  is  more  refined  and  per- 
manent.    It  is  a  law  of  our  nature,  that  the  more  intens^a  pleasure, 
the  shorter  is  its  duration.     The  ])leasures  of  sense  are  grosseV  and 
more  intense  than  those  of  intellect ;  but,  while  the  former  altei-nate 
speedily  with  disgust,  with  the  latter  we  are  never  satiated,     The 
same  analogy  holds  among  the  senses  themselves.     Those  in  which 
sensation  predominates,  in  which  pleasure  is  most  intense,  soon  pall 
upon  us ;   Avhereas  those  in  which    perception    predominates,  and 
which  hold  more  immediately  of  intelligence,  afford  us  a  less  exclu- 
sive but  a  more  enduring  gratification.     How  soon  are  we  cloyed 
with  the  pleasures  of  the  palate,  compared  with  those  of  the  eye ; 
and,  among  the  objects  of  the  former,  the  meats  that  please  the 
most  are  soonest  objects  of  disgusf.     This  is  too  notorious  in  regard 
to  taste  to  stand  in  need  of  proof     But  it  is  no  less  certain  in  the 
case  of  vision.     In  Painting,  there  is  a  pleasure  derived  fi-om  a  vivid 


Lkct.  XXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  339 

anil  liarmonions  coloring,  and  a  pleasure  from  the  drawing  and 
grouping  of  the  figures.  Tlie  two  pleasures  arc  distinct,  and  even, 
to  a  certain  extent,  incom})atible.  For  if  we  attempt  to  combine 
them,  the  grosser  and  more  obtrusive  gratification,  which  we  find 
in  tlie  coloring,  distracts  us  from  the  more  refined  and  intellectual 

enjoyment  we  derived  from  the  relation  of  figure ; 

Joannes   Secundus  i-,  ,     .^  ,•  .^  t 

while,   at  the  same  time,  the  disgust  we  soon 

(juoted.  '  . 

experience  from  the  one  tends  to  render  us  insen- 
sible to  the  other.  This  is  finely  expressed  by  a  modern  Latin  poet 
of  high  genius : 

"  Mensura  I'ebus  est  sua  dulcibus; 
Ut  quodquc  meiites  suavius  atlicit, 
Fastidiuiu  sic  triste  sccuin 
Limite  proximiore  ducit.  l 

"  Est  modus  et  dulci :  nimis  immoderata  voluptas 

Ttcdia  finitimo  liniitc  semper  liabet. 
Cernc  novas  tabulas;  ridcut  florente  eolore, 

ricta  velut  primo  Yere  coruscat  humus. 
Cerne  diu  tainen  has,  hebetataque  lumina  flectes, 

Et  tibi  conspectus  nausea  mollis  erit; 
Subque  tuos  oculos  aliquid  revocaro  libebit, 

Prisca  quod  inculta  secia  tulere  manu."2 

His  k'.irned  commentator,  Bosscha,  has  not,  however,  noticed  that 
these  are  only  ])araphrases  of  a  remarkable  pas- 

Paraiilirases  Cicero.  c  r^-        '\      r^-  i  c  i        1        '  * 

sage  or  Cicero.'*  Cicero  and  becundus  have  not, 
howi'ver,  expressccl  the  ]>rincij)lc  more  explicitly  than  Shakspeare: 

Shakspeare.  '•  Tiiese  violent  deli^^hts  have  violent  ends, 

And  in  ihcir  triumph  die.    The  sweetest  honey 
Is  loatlisome  in  its  own  delieiousness, 
And  in  the  taste  contDiniils  the  appetite. 
Tlierel'ore,  love  moderately;  lonj?  love  doth  so. 
Too  swift  arrives  as  tardy  as  too  sIow."< 

The  result  of  what  I  have  now  staled,  therefore,  is,  in  the  first 
place,  that,  as  philosojiliers  have   observed,  there    is  a  distinction 

1  .Tonnni's  Secundus,  Ba,»m,  ix.  Opera,  p.  85,      est,  qua;nam  cau.«a  sit,  cur  ea,  qua>  niaxlme 
(edit.  1031).  —  Ed.  sciisiis,  nostros  iini)ol]unt  voluplatc,  et  sjiccie 


prima  acerrime  coniniovent,  ab  iis  celerrime 
fa.><tidio  quodam  et  satietate  abalienemur," 
etc.  —  Ed. 
3  i)e  Oratore,\\i.  25:   •' DilTicile  enim   dictu  *  Komto  anrf  Ju/iVr,  act.  ii.  scene  6. 


2  Joannes     Secundus,    Epinrainmaln,    liii. 
[Opera,  p.  115. —  Ed.] 


o40  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIV 

between  Knowledge  anJ  Feeling,  —  Perception  and  Sensation,  as 

between   the   objective  and  the  subjective  ele- 
esuit  m  sum   o        j^ie^t ;  und,  in  the  second,  that  this  distinction 

foregoing  discussion. 

is,  moreover,  governed  by  the  law,  —  That  the 
two  elements,  though  each  necessarily  sup^joses  the  other,  are  still 
always  in  a  certain  inverse  proportion  to  each  other.^ 

Before  leaving  this  subject,  I  may  notice  that  the  distinction  of 

perception  proper  and  sensation  proper,  though 

The   distinction  of      recoguized  as  phaenomenal  by  philosophers  who 

Perception  from  Sen-       }io\^  the  doctrinc  of  a  representative  perception, 

•ation,  of  importance  .  .     ,  ,.  ,   .  i      •        i        i 

,.,,,..       f.       rises  into  reulitv  and  importance  only  in  the  doc- 

only  m  the  doctrine  of  J  i  j 

Intuitive  Perception.         trine  of  uu  iiituitivc  perception.     In  the  former 

doctrine,  perception  is  supposed  to  be  only  ap- 
parently objective  ;  being,  in  reality,  no  less  subjectiA^e  than  sensa- 
tion proper,  —  the  subjective  element  itself  Both  are  nothing 
more  than  mere  modes  of  tlie  ego.  Tlie  philosophers  who  hold  the 
hypothesis  of  a  rej^resentative  perception,  make  the  difference  of 
the  two  to  consist  only  in  this  ;  —  that  in  ]ierception  proper,  there  is 
reference  to  an  unknown  object,  different  from  me;  in  sensation, 
there  is  no  reference  to  aught  beyond  myself  Brown,  on  the  sup- 
position that  Reid  held  that  doctrine  in  common  with  himself  and 
philosophers  at  large,  states  sensation,  as  understood  by  Reid,  to 
be  "  the  simple  feeling  that  immediately  follows  the  action  of  an 
external  body  on  any  of  our  organs  of  sense,  considered  merely  as 
a  feeling  of  the  mind  ;  the  corresjjonding  perception  being  the  ref- 
erence of  this  feeling  to  the  external  body  as  its  cause."  ^  Tlie  dis- 
tinction he  allows  to  be  a  convenient  one,  if  the  nature  of  the  com- 
plex process  which  it  expresses  be  rightly  understood.  "  The  only 
question,"  he  says,  "that  seems,  philosophically,  of  importance,  with 
respect  to  it,  is  whether  the  perception  in  this  sense,  —  the  reference 
of  the  sensation  to  its  external  corj^oreal  cause,  —  implies,  as  Dr. 
R.eid  contends,  a  i:)eculiar  mental  power,  coextensive  with  sensation, 
to  be  distinguished  by  a  peculiar  name  in  the  catalogue  of  our  facul- 
ties ;  or  be  not  merely  one  of  the  results  of  a  more  general  power, 
which  is  afterwards  to  be  considered  by  us,  —  the  power  of  associa- 
tion,—  by  wliich  one  feeling  suggests,  or  induces,  other  feelings 
that  have  formerly  coexisted  with  it."  ^ 

If  Brown  be  correct  in  his  interpretation  of  Reid's  general  doc- 
trine of  perception,  his  criticism  is  not  only  true  but  trite.  In  the 
hands  of  a  cosmothetic  idealist,  the  distinction  is  only  superficial, 

» 

1  For  historical  notices  of  approximations,  2  Lecture  xxvi.  p.  1.  second  edition. -'- Ed 

to  this  Law,   see  Reid's  M'orks,  Note   D*,  p.  3  iiit/.  — Ed. 

«87.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  341 

and  manifestly  of  no  import;  and  tlie  very  fact,  that  Rcid  laid  so 

great  a  stress  on  it,  would  tend  to  prove,  inde- 

That  Reid  laid  stress       pendcntly  of  what  we  have  already  alleged,  that 

on    this    distinction,       Brown's  interpretation  of  his  doctrine  is  errune- 

serves    to     determine  __  ,,,  ^     T^  •  i         -n  /         i 

f,.    .„        ous.      1  ou  Will  remark,  likewise,  that  brown  (and 

the  nature  of  his  doc-  '  '  V 

trine  of  Perception.  Brown  Only  speaks  the  language  of  all  philoso- 

jdiers  who  do  not  allow  the  mind  a  consciousness 

of  aught  beyond  its  own  states)  misstates  the  phrenomcnon,  when 

he  asserts  that,  in  perception,  there  is  a  reference 
No  reference  from       from   the   internal   to   the    external,   from    the 

the  internal  to  the  ex-       i^^^wn  to  the  Unknown.     That  this  is  not  the 

ternal    in  Perception,  r-    i  ■         i  -n^ 

,.    „.„  .fa«,  iJic't,  nn  observation  ot   Ins  i)ha3nomenon  will  at 

as  iirown  states.  '  i 

once  convince  you.  In  an  act  of  j^erception,  I 
am  conscious  of  something  as  self,  and  of  something  as  not-self:  — 
this  is  the  simple  fact.  The  philosophers,  on  the  contrary,  Avho  will 
not  accept  this  fact,  misstate  it.  They  say  that  Ave  are  there  con- 
scious of  nothing  but  a  certain  modification  of  inind;  but  this  modi- 
fication invoh^es  a  reference  to,  —  in  other  words,  a  rejiresentation 
of,  something  external,  as  its  object.  Now  this  is  untrue.  "We  are 
conscious  of  no  reference,  —  of  no  representation  ;  we  believe  that 
the  object  of  which  we  are  conscious  is  the  ol>ject  which  exists. 
Nor  could  there  possibly  be  such  reference  or  representation  ;  for 
reference  or  rej^resentation  supposes  a  knowledge  already  possessed 
of  the  object  referred  to  or  represented ;  but  perception  is  the 
faculty  by  which  our  first  knowledge  is  acquired,  and,  therefore, 
cannot  suppose  a  previous  knowledge  as  its  condition.  But  this  I 
notice  only  by  the  way;  this  matter  will  be  regularly  considered  in 
the  sequel. 

I  may  here  notice  the  false  analysis,  which  has  endeavored  to  take 

percej^tion  out  of  the  list  of  our  faculties,  as 

Perception  taken  out       being  oidv  a  conijiound  and   derivative  ]iower. 

of  the  list  of  primary       j>,.,.,;.ption,    savlJrown    and    others,    supposes 

faculties,     through     a  \        "  •  i     •     i  i 

false  analysis.  memory  and  comparison  and  judgment;  there- 

fore, it  is  not  a  primary  faculty  of  mind.  Noth- 
ing can  be  more  erroneous  than  this  reasoning.  In  the  first  place,  I 
have  formerly  shown  you  that  consciousness  sujiposes  memory,  and 
discrimination,  and  judgment;  and,  as  perception  does  not  pretend 
to  be  simpler  than  consciousness,  but  in  fiict  only  a  modification  of 
consciousness,  that,  therefore,  tlie  objection  does  not  ajiply.  But,  in 
the  second  place,  the  objection  is  founded  on  a  misapprehension  of 
Avhat  a  faculty  i)roi)eily  is.  It  may  1)e  very  true  that  an  act  of  jier- 
ception  cannot  be  realized  simply  and  alone.  T  have  often  told  you 
that  the  mental  phajnomena  are  never  simple,  ami  that  as  tissues 


342  METAniYSICS.  Lect.  XXIV 

are  woven  out  of  many  threads,  so  a  mental  phenomenon  is  made  up 
of  many  acts  and  affections,  which  we  can  only  consider  separately 
by  abstraction,  but  can  never  even  conceive  as  separately  existing. 
In  mathematics,  we  consider  a  triangle  or  a  square,  the  sides  and 
the  angles  apart  from  each  other,  though  we  are  unable  to  conceive 
them  existing  independently  of  each  otlier.  But  because  the  angles 
and  sides  exist  only  through  each  other,  would  it  be  correct  to  deny 
their  reality  as  distinct  mathematical  elements  ?  As  in  geometry, 
so  is  it  in  })sychology,  "We  admit  that  no  faculty  can  exist  itself 
alone ;  and  that  it  is  only  by  viewing  the  actual  manifestations  of 
mind  in  their  different  relations,  that  we  are  able  by  abstraction  to 
analyze  them  into  elements,  which  we  refer  to  difi'erent  fliculties. 
Thus,  for  example,  every  judgment,  every  comparison,  supposes  two 
terms  to  be  compared,  and,  therefore,  supposes  an  act  of  representa- 
tive, or  an  act  of  acquisitive  cognition.  But  go  back  to  one  or  other 
of  these  acts,  and  you  will  find  tliat  each  of  them  supposes  a  judg- 
ment and  a  memory.  If  I  represent  in  imagination  the  terms  of 
comparison,  there  is  involved  a  judgment;  for  the  f^ict  of  their 
representation  supposes  the  afhrmation  or  judgment  that  they  are 
called  up,  that  they  now  ideally  exist ;  and  this  judgment  is  only 
possible,  as  the  result  of  a  comparison  of  the  present  consciousness 
of  their  existence  Avith  a  past  consciousness  of  their  non-existence, 
which  comparison,  again,  is  only  2)ossible  through  an  act  of  memory. 

Connected  with   the    preceding   distinction    of  Perception   and 
Sensation,  is  the  distinction  of  the  Primary  and 

The  Primary  and       Secondary  Qualities  of  matter.     This   distinc- 

Secondary      Qualities  .  •         t      i         t     i     n 

of  matter.  ^^^'^  Cannot  be  omitted ;  but  1  sliall  not  attempt 

to  follow  out  the  various  difficult  and  doubtful 

problems  which  it  presents.^ 

It  would  only  confuse  you  were  I  to  attempt  to  determine,  how 
far  this   distinction  was  known  to  the  Atomic 

Historical  notices  of         tii        •    t       •   j.  •  ^         a-^xi  ii  j? 

,, .    ,.  .    ,.  Physiologists,  prior  to  Aristotle,  and  how  far 

this  distinction.  .  .  .       . 

Aristotle  himself  was  aware  of  the  princijile  on 
which  it  proceeds.  —  It  is  enough  to  notice,  as  the  most  remarkable 

opinion  of  antiquity,  that  of  Deinocritus,  who, 

Democritus.  ^  ...  ^  -,      i  .    , 

except  the  common  qualities  of  body  which  are 
known  by  Touch,  denied  that  the  senses  afforded  us  any  informa 
tion  concerning  the  real   j^roperties  of  matter.      Among   modern 

philosophers,   Descartes  was   the  first  who  re- 

called  attention  to  the  distinction.     According 

to  him,  the  primary  qualities  diffe^  from  the  secondary  in  this, — ■ 

1  For  a  fuller  and  more  accurate  account  of  the  history  of  this  distinction,  see  HtiU  t 
Works,  note  D.  —  Ed. 


J 


Lect.  XXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  348 

that  our  knowledge  of  the  former  is  more  clear  and  distinct  than 
of  tlie  latter.  "Longe  alio  modo  cognoscimus  quid  sit  in  corpore 
magnitudo  vel  figura  quaui  quid  sit,  in  eodem  corpore,  color,  vel 
odor,  vel  sapor.  —  Longe  evidentius  cognoscimus  quid  sit  in  corpore 
esse  figuratum  quam  quid  sit  esse  coloratum."^ 

"The  qualities  of  external  objects,"  says  Locke,-  "are  of  two 
sorts;  first,  Original  or  Primary;  such  are  so- 
lidity,  extension,  motion  or  rest,  number  and 
figure.  These  are  inseparable  from  body,  and  such  as  it  (-(nistantly 
kee])s  in  all  its  changes  and  alterations.  Thus,  take  a  grain  of 
wheat,  diviile  it  into  two  parts ;  each  j)art  has  still  solidity,  exten- 
sion, figure,  mobility ;  divide  it  again,  and  it  still  retains  the  same 
qualities ;  and  will  do  so  still,  though  you  divide  it  on  till  the  parts 
become  insensible. 

"  Secondly,  Secondary  qualities,  such  as  colors,  smells,  tastes, 
sounds,  etc.,  wliich,  whatever  reality  we  by  mistake  may  attribute 
to  them,  Miv,  in  truth,  nothing  in  the  objects  themselves,  but 
powers  to  ])roduce  various  sensations  in  us ;  and  depend  on  the 
qualities  before  mentioned. 

"The  ideas  of  jjrimary  (pialities  of  bodies  arc  resemblances  of 
them;  and  their  patterns  really  exist  in  bodies  themselves:  but 
the  ideas  produced  in  us  by  secondary  qualities,  haA'e  no  resem- 
blance of  them  at  all  :  and  what  is  sweet,  blue,  or  Avarm  in  the 
idea,  is  but  the  certain  bidk,  figure,  and  motion  of  the  insensible 
parts  in  the  bodies  themselves,  which  we  call  so." 

Reid  adopted  the  distinction  of  Descartes :  he  holds  tliat  our 
knowkMlw  of  the  primary  qualities  is  clear  and 
distinct,  whereas  our  knowledge  of  the  second- 
ary qualities  is  obscure.'  "  P]very  man,"  he  says,  "  capable  of 
refiection,  may  easily  satisfy  himself,  that  he  has  a  perfectly  clear 
and  distinct  notion  of  extension,  divisibility,  figure,  and  motion. 
The  solidity  of  a  body  means  no  more,  but  that  it  excludes  other 
bodies  from  occupying  the  same  place  at  the  same  time.  Hard- 
ness, softness,  and  fluidity,  are  diflferent  degrees  of  cohesion  in  the 
parts  of  a  body.  It  is  fiuid,  when  it  has  no  sensible  cohesion ;  soft 
when  the  cohesion  is  weak;  and  hard  when  it  is  strong:  of  the 
cause  of  this  cohesion  Ave  are  ignorant,  but  the  thing  itself  Ave 
understand  perfectly,  being  immediately  informed  of  it  by  the 
sense  of  touch.  It  is  evident,  therefore,  that  of  the  ])rimary  quali- 
ties Ave  have  a  clear  and  distinct  notion ;  Ave  knoAv  Avhnt  they  are, 

1  Principia,  i.  5  fiO  —  Ed.  3  InUlUrtunl    Powers,    Essay    ii.    ch.    xvil 

2  Rjni/ii.  8,  0.    Till-  ti-xtisan  iibruiv'meiit       H ori.s,  p.  3U.  —  Eu. 
of  Locke,  not  an  exact  quotation.  —  Eu. 


344  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIV. 

thougli  Ave  may  be  ignorant  of  the  causes."  But  he  did  more,  h» 
endeavored  to  show  that  this  difference  arises  from  the  circum- 
stance, —  that  the  perception,  in  the  case  of  the  primary  qualities, 
is  direct;  in  the  case  of  the  secondary,  only  relative.  This  he 
explains:  "I  observe,  further,  that  the  notion  we  have  of  primary 
qualities  is  direct  and  not  relative  only.  A  relative  notion  of  a 
thing  is,  strictly  speaking,  no  notion  of  the  thing  at  all,  but  only 
of  some  relation  which  it  bears  to  soraethina:  else. 

"Thus  gravity  sometimes  signifies  the  tendency  of  bodies  towards 
the  earth ;  sometimes  it  signifies  the  cause  of  that  tendency ;  when 
it  means  the  first,  I  have  a  direct  and  distinct  notion  of  gravity;. 
I  see  it,  and  feel  it,  and  know  perfectly  what  it  is;  but  this  tend- 
ency must  have  a  cause ;  we  give  the  same  name  to  the  cause ; 
and  that  cause  has  been  an  object  of  thought  and  of  speculation. 
Now,  what  notion  have  Ave  of  this  cause  AA^hen  we  think  and  reason 
about  it?  It  is  evident  Ave  think  of  it  as  an  unknoAA^n  cause  of 
a  knoAvn  effect.  This  is  a  relative  notion,  and  it  must  be  obscure^ 
because  it  gives  us  no  conception  of  what  the  thing  is,  but  of 
what  relation  it  bears  to  something  else.  Every  relation  which  a 
thing  unknoAA'n  bears  to  something  that  is  known,  may  give  a  rela- 
tive notion  of  it;  and  there  are  many  objects  of  thought,  and  of 
discourse,  of  Avhich  our  faculties  can  give  no  better  than  a  relative 
notion. 

"Having  premised  these  things  to  explain  what  is  meant  by  a 
relative  notion,  it  is  evident,  that  our  notion  of  Primary  Qualities 
is  not  of  this  kind ;  Ave  knoAV  what  they  are,  and  not  barely  what 
relation  they  bear  to  something  else. 

"  It  is  otherAvise  Avith  Secondary  Qualities.  If  you  ask  me,  what 
is  that  quality  or  modification  in  a  rose  which  I  call  its  smell,  I  am 
at  a  loss  Avhat  to  answer  directly.  Upon  reflection  I  find,  that  1 
haA'e  a  distinct  notion  of  the  sensation  which  it  produces  in  my 
mind.  But  there  can  be  nothing  like  to  this  sensation  in  the  rose> 
because  it  is  insentient.  The  quality  in  the  rose  is  something 
Avhich  occasions  the  sensation  in  me ;  but  what  that  something  is, 
I  know  not.  My  senses  give  me  no  information  upon  this  j)oint. 
The  only  notion,  therefore,  my  senses  give  is  this,  that  smell  in  the 
rose  is  an  unknown  quality  or  modification  Avhich  is  the  cause  or 
occasion  of  a  sensation  which  I  knoAV  Avell.  The  relation  Avhich. 
this  unknoAvn  quality  bears  to  the  sensation  with  which  nature  hath 
connected  it,  is  all  I  learn  from  the  sense  of  smelling ;  but  this  ia 
evidently  a  relative  notion.  The  same  reasoning  Avill  apply  to 
every  secondary  quality. 

"Thus  I  think   it  appears,  that  there  is  a  real  foundation  for 


Ji 


Lect.  XXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  845 

the  distinction  of  primary  from  secondary  qualities ;  and  that  they 
are  distinguished  by  this,  that  of  the  primary  we  have  by  our 
senses  a  direct  and  distinct  notion ;  but  of  the  secondary  only  a 
relative  notion,  whicli  must,  because  it  is  only  relative,  be  obscure ; 
they  are  conceived  only  as  tlie  unknown  causes  or  occasions  of 
certain  sensations,  with  which  Ave  are  well  acquainted." 

You  will  observe  that  the  lists  of  the  primary  qualities  given  by 

Locke  and  Reid  do  not  coincide.      Accordinsr 

The  list  of  primary       to  Locke,  these  are  Solidity,  Extension,  Motion,. 

qualities    given     by       Hardness,  Softucss,  Roughucss,  Smoothness,  and 

Locke,    and    that    of         „.    .  - . 
Reid,  do  not  coincide.         ^  luidlty. 

Stewart.  Mr.  Stewart  proposes  another  line  of  demar- 

cation. "I  distinguish,"  he  says,  '••Extension 
and  Figure  by  the  title  of  the  Jfat/ie//wtical  Ajftctions  of  matter; 
restricting  the  phrase.  Primary  Qualities,  to  Hardness  and  Soft- 
ness, Roughness  and  Smoothness,  and  other  properties  of  the^ 
same  descrii)tion.  The  line  which  T  would  draw  between  Primary 
and  Secondary  Qualities  is  this,  that  the  former  necessarily  involve 
the  notion  of  Extension,  and  consequently  of  externality  or  out- 
ness; whereas  the  latter  are  only  conceived  as  the  unknown  causes, 
of  known  sensations;  and  v^hen  first  apprehended  by  the  mind,  do- 
not  im])ly  the  existence  of  anything  locally  distinct  from  the  sub- 
jects of  its  own  consciousness."^ 

All   these   Primary    Qualities,    including   Mr.   Stewart's   Mathe- 
matical Affections  of  matter,  may  easily  be  re- 

Thc  Priniary  Qnaii-       duccd  to  two, — Extension  and  Solidity.     Thus: 

ties  reducible  to  two,         t:<.  •  ^•      -^    ^-  £•        ^         •  tt       i 

,  „         r'lrruro,  IS  a  mere  limitation  oi  extension;  Hard- 

—  Extension  and  So-  o         '  ^    ^  ' 

jidity.  iiess,  Softness,  Fluidity,  are  only  Solidity  vari- 

ously modified,  —  only  its  different  degrees; 
while  Roughness  and  Smoothness  denote  only  the  sensations  con- 
nected with  certain  perceptions  of  Solidity.  On  the  other  hand^ 
in  regaj'd  to  Divisibility  (which  is  ]ir(»per  to  Reid),  and  to  Motion, 

—  these  can  h.irdly  be  mere  data  of  sense.  *  Divisibility  supposes- 
division,  and  a  body  divided  supposes  memory;  for  if  wc  did  not 
remember  that  it  had  been  one,  we  should  not  know  that  it  is  now 
two ;  we  couM  not  compare  its  present  with  its  former  state ;  an<1 
it  is  by  this  coinjiarison  alone  that  we  learn  the  fact  of  division. 
As  to  Motion,  this  su]>poses  the  exercise  of  memory,  and  the  notioi> 
of  time,  and,  therefore,  we  do  not  owe  it  exclusively  to  sense. 
Finally,  as  to  Xumber,  which  is  peculiar  to  Locke,  it  is  evident 
that   this,  far  from  being  a  (piality  of  matter,  is   only  an   abstract 

1   Phil.  E-sai/s,  H'ori-s  vol.  v.  \i\>.  lU!.  117. 


346  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIV. 

notion,  —  the  fabrication  of  the  intellect,  and  not  a  datum  of 
sense.^ 

Tlius,  then,  Ave  have  reduced  all  j^rimary  qualities  to  Extension 
and  Solidity,  and  we  are,  moreover,  it  would 

'I Ins  reduction  in-       geem,  beiyinninf?  to  see  licjht,  inasmuch  as  the 

volves  a  difficulty.  .      '         *      ,.   .*  ,  •  ,•    , 

primary  qualities  are  those  in  winch  percej^tion 
is  dumiuant,  the  secondary  those  in  which  sensation  prevails.  But 
here  we  are  again  thrown  back :  for  extension  is  only  another  name 
for  space,  and  our  notion  of  space  is  not  one  which  we  derive  exclu- 
sively from  sense,  —  not  one  which  is  generalized  only  from  experi- 
ence ;  for  it  is  one  of  our  necessary  notions,  —  in  fact,  a  fundamental 
condition  of  thought  itself  The  analysis  of  Kant,  independently 
of  all  that  has  been  done  by  other  philosophers,  has  placed  this 
truth  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt,  to  all  those  who  understand 
the  meaning  and  conditions  of  the  problem.     For  us,  however,  this 

is  not  the  time  to  discuss  tlie  subject.      But, 

What,    and    how       taking  it  for  granted  tliat  the  notion  of  space 

*°'^'^'^-  is  native  or  a  prioi'i.,  and  not  adventitious  or 

Space  known  n  pri-  .       .  ,  ,  ,        , 

.    ,,  ^     .  a  posteriori,  are  we  not  at  once  thrown   back 

art :    Lxtensiou  a  pos-         <-«'  y^  ■> 

tenori.  luto  idealisiu  ?     For  if  extension  itself  be  only 

a  necessary  mental  mode,  how  can  we  make  it 
a  quality  of  external  objects,  known  to  us  by  sense ;  or  how  can  we 
contrast  the  outer  world,  as  the  extended,  with  the  inner,  as  the 
unextended  world?  To  this  difficulty,  I  see  only  one  possible 
answer.  It  is  this :  —  It  cannot  be  denied  that  space,  as  a  necessary 
notion,  is  native  to  the  mind  ;  but  does  it  follow,  that,  because  there 
is  an  a  priori  space,  as  a  form  of  thought,  we  may  not  also  have  an 
empirical  knowledge  of  extension,  as  an  element  of  existence? 
The  former,  indeed,  may  be  only  the  condition  through  which  the 
latter  is  possible.  It  is  true  that,  if  we  did  not  possess  the  general 
and  necessary  notion  of  space  anterior  to,  or  as  the  condition  of" 
experience,  from  experience  we  should  never  obtain  more  than  a 
generalized  and  contingent  notion  of  space.  But  there  seems  to 
me  no  reason  to  deny,  that  because  we  have  the  one,  we  may  not 
also  have  the  other.  If  tliis  be  admitted,  the  whole  difficulty  is 
solved  ;  and  we  may  designate  by  the  name  of  extension  our  empiri- 
cal knowledge  of  space,  and  reserve  the  terra  space  for  space  con- 
sidered as  a  form  or  fundamental  law  of  thought.^      This  matter 

1  III  this  reduction  of  the  primary  qualities  2  Here,  on  blank  leaf  of  MS.,  are  jotted 

to  Extension  and  Solidity,  tlie  author  follows  the  words,  "So  Causality."    [Causality  de- 

Royer-Collani,  whose  remarks  will  be  found  pends,  first,  on   the  a  priori  necessity  in   the 

quoted   in    lieiiVs  Works,  p.  844.     From  the  mind  to  think  some  cause;  and,  secoud,  on 

notes  appended  to  that  quotation,  it  will  be  experience,  as  revealing  to  us  the  particn'ar 

seen   that   Sir  W.   Hamilton's  final   opinion  cause  of  any  effect.]— Orai  Interpolation,  liit 

differs  in  some  respects  from  that  expressed  not  at  this  passage.  —  Ed. 
In  the  present  text.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  xxiy.  METAi'iiYsics.  347 

will,  however,  come  appropriately  to  be  considered,  in  treating  of 
the  Kegulative  Faculty. 

The  following  is  the  result  of  what  I  think  an  accurate  analysis 

would  afford,  though  there  are  no  doubt  many 

General  result.  — In       difficulties  to  be  explained. — That  our  knowl- 

the  Primary  c^iaiities,       ^jg^.   ^f  .^^  ^l^g  qualities  of  matter  is  merely 

frsfiriheTecrd-       relative.      But  though  the   qualities  of  matter 
arv,  Sensation.  are  all  knowu  only  in  relation  to  our  faculties, 

and  the  total  or  absolute  cognition  in  perception 
is  only  matter  in  a  certain  relation  to  mind,  and  mind  in  a  certain 
relation  to  matter;  still,  in  different  perceptions,  one  term  of  the 
relation  may  predominate,  or  the  otlier.  Where  the  objective  ele- 
ment predominates,  —  where  matter  is  known  as  principal  in  its 
relation  to  mind,  and  mind  only  known  as  subordinate  in  its  corre- 
lation to  matter,  —  we  have  Perception  Proper,  rising  superior  to 
sensation;  this  is  seen  iu  the  Primary  Qualities.  "Where,  on  the 
contrary,  the  subjective  element  predominates,  —  where  mind  is 
known  as  principal  in  its  relation  to  matter,  and  matter  is  only 
known  as  subordinate  in  its  relation  to  mind,  —  we  have  Sensation 
Pi-oper  rising  superior  to  perception;  and  this  is  seen  in  the  Sec- 
ondary Qualities.  The  ade(iuate  illustration  of  this  would,  however, 
require  both  a  longer,  and  a  more  abstruse,  discussion  than  we  can 
afford.' 

1  Cf.  ReidU  Works,  Notes  D  and  D».  — Ed. 


LECTURE    XXV. 

THE   PRESENTATIVE  FACULTY. 

I. PERCEPTION. OBJECTIONS     TO     THE     DOCTRINE     OF     NATURAL     REALISM. 

From  our  previous  discussions,  you  are  now,  in  some  measure^ 

preparer]  for  a  consideration  of  the  grounds  on 

Objections  to  the       -which  philosophers  have  so  generallv  asserted 

doctrine    of    Natural  .         .„  .  „  .       *    , 

Keaiism.  ^"^  scientiuc  necessity  ot  repressing  the  testi- 

mony of  consciousness  to  the  fact  of  our  imme- 
diate perception  of  external  objects,  and  of  allowing  us  only  a 
mediate  knowledge  of  the  material  world  :  a  procedure  by  which 
they  either  admit,  or  cannot  rationally  deny,  that  Consciousness  i» 
a  mendacious  Avitness;  that  Philosophy  and  the  Common  Sense  of 
mankind  are  placed  in  contradiction  ;  nay,  that  the  only  legitimate 
])hilosophy  is  an  absolute  and  universal  skepticism.  That  conscious- 
ness, in  perception,  atibrds  us,  as  I  have  stated,. 
The  testimony  of  an  assurance  of  an  intuitive  cognition  of  the 
Consciousness  in  per-       non-ego,  is  not  Only  notorious  to  every  one  Avho 

ception, notorious, and  ....  .  ,      ^-i'    i?     ^    i     j. 

acknowledged  by  phi-       ^^i"  interrogate  consciousness  as  to  the  tact,  but 
losophers  of  all  classes.       is,  as  I  have  already  shown  you,  acknowledged 
Hume  quoted.  not  Only  by  cosmotlietic  idealists,  but  even  by 

absolute  idealists  and  skeptics.  "  It  seems  evi- 
dent," says  Hume,  who  in  this  concession  must  be  allowed  to  exi>ress 
the  common  acknowledgment  of  philosophers,  "  that  when  men 
follow  this  blind  and  powerful  instinct  of  nature,  they  always  sup- 
pose the  very  images,  presented  by  the  senses,  to  be  the  external 
objects,  and  never  entertain  any  suspicion,  that  the  one  are  nothing 
but  representations  of  the  other.  This  very  table,  which  we  see 
white,  and  which  we  feel  hard,  is  believed  to  exist,  independent 
of  our  perception,  and  to  be  sometliing  external  to  our  mind,  which 
perceives  it.  Our  presence  bestows  not  being  on  it :  our  absence 
does  not  annihilate  it.  It  preserves  its  existence,  uniform  and 
entire,  independent  of  the  situation  of  intelligent  beings,  who  per- 
ceive or  contemplate  it.  But  this  universal  and  primary  opinion  of 
all  men  is  soon  destroyed  by  the  slightest  philosophy,  which  teaches 
us  that  nothing  can  ever  be  present  to  the  mind  but  an  inxage  or 


LiXT.  XXV.  METAPHYSICS.  349 

perception,  and  that  the  senses  are  only  the  inlets,  through  which 
these  images  are  received,  without  being  ever  able  to  j^roduce  any 
immediate  intercourse  between  the  mind  and  the  object."^ 

In  considering  this  subject,  it  is  manifest  that,  before  rejecting 

the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  our  immediate 

The  discussion   di-       knowledge    of   the    non-ego,   the    philosophers 

Tided  into  two  parts.       ^^.pj-e   bound,  in  the  first   place,  to  evince  the 

absolute  necessity  of  their  rejection  ;  and,  in 
the  second  place,  in  substituting  an  hypothesis  in  the  room  of  the 
rejected  fact,  they  were  bound  to  substitute  a  legitimate  hypothesis, 
—  that  is,  one  which  does  not  violate  the  laws  under  which  an 
hypothesis  can  be  rationally  proposed.  I  shall,  therefore,  divide  the 
discussion  into  two  sections.  In  the  former,  I  shall  state  the  rea- 
sons, as  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  discover  them,  on  which  philoso- 
phers have  attempted  to  manifest  tlie  impossibility  of  acquiescing 
in  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  and  the  general  belief  of  man- 
kind ;  and,  at  the  same  time,  endeavor  to  refute  these  reasons,  by 
showing  that  they  do  not  establish  the  necessity  required.  In  the 
latter,  I  shall  attempt  to  i:)rove  that  the  hy]>othesis  proposed  by  the 
philosophers,  in  place  of  the  fact  of  consciousness,  does  not  fulfil 
the  conditions  of  a  legitimate  hypothesis,  —  in  fact,  violates  them 
almost  all. 

In  the  first  j)lacc,  then,  in  regard  to  the  reasons  assigned  by  phi- 
losophers for  their  refusal   of  the  fact  of   our 
I.  Reasons  for  n-       immediate  i)erception  of  external  things,  —  of 

jecti,.,^  the  testimony         ^^^^^^  j  j^.^^.^  ^^^^^  ^^^j^  ^^  ^^jj^^^  .^^  ^j^  ^^,^       ^^ 

t)i     Consciousness    ni 

perception,  detailed  ^^^^Y  (-'^^inK^t  be  Very  briefly  stated,  I  shall  not 
and  eiitic-i/ed.  first   enumerate   them  together,   ami    llicu    con- 

sider each   in   detail;    but   shall   consider  llicm 
one  after  the  other,  witiioul  any  general  and  prelimiuary  statement. 
Tiie  first,  and  highest,  ground  on  which  it  may  be  held,  that  the 
object    immeiliately  known   in   j)orgeption   is  a 

The  (irst  ground  of  tl-       .•  r  .  \    '        •      i    •        i ,-   •        i        ,.  m 

re'ection  luoditicat loll  oi  the  iiuinl  ilselt,  is  the  followmg: 

Perception  is  a  cognition  or  act  of  knowle<lge ; 

a  cognition  is  an  immanent  act  of  mind;  but  to  suppose  the  cogni- 

tion  of  anything  external  to  the  mind,  would  be  to  sujipose  an  act 

of  the  mind  going  out  of  itself,  in  other  words,  a  transeunt  act ;  but 

action   supposes  existence,   and  nothing  can   act  wlu'ii'  it  is  not; 

therefore,  to  act  out  of  self  is  to  exist  out  of  self,  which  is  absurd.=^ 

1  Enquiry  roncernins;  Human  Vn'/rrstnndin^,  Bdinn/llung  der  empirisrhrn  Pxyrhnlosi' ,  vol.  I. 
*  xii.,  ICssai/s,  etc.  [O/tlie  Academiral  or  Sk^p-  §  31.  p  139.  [Hiunde  refers  to  Ficlite  as  hold 
/ifdi  P/n7oso/)/iy,  Kway-s  P- 30)7,  edit.  1T5S.  I'lill-  ing  the  principle  of  this  argumeut.  —  Kd.i 
osi'plticat  World,  vol.  iv.  p.  177. —  Ei).]  Cf.  Schul/e,  Anihropoloijir,  i,  ■33,  p    107,  (edit 

2  See   Biuude,    Versuch  einer    sysieniatischni  1826)    [Cicero,  Acad.  Quctst  ,  iv.  2i— Ed.] 


350  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXV. 

This   argument,   though   I   have    never   met   with  it   explicitly 

announced,  is  still  implicitly  supposed  in  the 

^®*^"*^*^'  arguments  of  those  philosophers  who  hold,  that 

1.    Our  inability  to  ,^        .     -,  ,   ,  •  r-  1^1  a 

conceive  how  the  fact  the  mmd  Cannot  be  conscious  of  aught  beyond 
of  consciousness  is  its  owH  modifications.  It  will  not  stand  exarai- 
possibie,   no  ground       nation.      It  is  very  true   that  we  can  neither 

for  denying  its  possi-  •  i.  ^i_  i. 

,.,.,  prove,  nor  even  conceive,  how  the  ego  can  be 

bility.  J  ;  _  ... 

conscious  or  immediatelv  cognitive  of  the  non- 
ego ;  but  this,  our  ignorance,  is  no  sufficient  reason  on  which  to 
deny  the  possibility  of  the  fact.  As  a  foct,  and  a  primary  fact,  of 
consciousness,  we  must  be  ignorant  of  the  why  and  how  of  its 
reality,  for  we  have  no  higher  notion  through  which  to  comprehend 
it,  and,  if  it  involve  no  contradiction,  we  are,  philosophically,  bound 

to  accept  it.  But  if  we  examine  the  argument 
2.  Tiie  reason  ad-       ^  |j^^]g  closcr,  we  shall  find  that  it  proves  too 

duced  involves  a  gen-  in  ■,  •       •    -i  1        i  i 

erai  absurdity.  much  ;    for.  On  the  sauic  principle,  we  should 

establish  the  impossibility  of  any  overt  act  of 
volition,  —  nay,  even  the  impossibility  of  all  agency  and  mutual 
causation.  For  if,  on  the  ground  that  nothing  can  act  out  of  itself, 
because  nothing  exists  out  of  itself,  we  deny  to  mind  the  immediate 
knowledge  of  things  external;  on  the  same  principle,  we  must  deny 
to  mind  the  power  of  determining  any  muscular  movement  of  the 
body.  And  if  the  action  of  every  existence  were  limited  to  the 
sphere  of  that  existence  itself,  then,  no  one  thing  could  act  upon, 
any  other  thing,  and  all  action  and  reaction,  in  the  universe,  would 
be  impossible.     This  is  a  general  absurdity,  which  follows  from  the 

principle  in  question.      But  there  is  a  peculiar 

.  nv o  \ es  a  specia        ^^^^  proximate  absurdity  iiito  which  this  theory- 
absurdity.  ^.  ^      ''  ,      "" 

runs,  in  the  attem])t  it  makes  to  escape  the  inex- 
plicable. It  is  this :  —  The  cosmothetic  idealists,  who  found  their 
doctrine  on  the  impossibility  of  mind  acting  out  of  itself,  in  relation 
to  matter,  Ji,re  obliged  to  admit  the  still  less  conceivable  possibility 
of  matter  acting  out  of  itself,  in  relation  to  mind.  They  deny  that 
mind  is  immediately  conscious  of  matter;  and,  to  save  the  i»ha3- 
nomenon  of  perception,  they  assert  that  the  non-ego,  as  given  in 
that  act,  is  only  an  illusive  representation  of  the  non-ego,  in,  and 
by,  the  ego.  Well,  admitting  this,  and  allowing  them  to  belie  the 
testimony  of  consciousness  to  the  reality  of  the  non-ego  as  per- 
ceived, what  do  they  gain  by  this?  They  surrender  the  simple 
datum  of  consciousness,  —  that  the  external  object  is  immediately 
known  ;  and,  in  lieu  of  that  real  object,  they  substitute  a  representa- 
tive object.  But  still  they  hold  (at  least  those  who  do  not  fly  to 
some  hyperphysical  hypothesis)  that  the  mind  is  determined  to  this 


Lkct.  XXV.  METAPHYSICS.  351 

representation  by  tlie  material  reality,  to  which  material  reality  they 
must,  therefore,  accord  the  very  transeunt  efficiency  which  they 
deny  to  the  immaterial  principle.  This  first  and  highest  ground, 
.therefore,  on  which  it  is  attempted  to  establish  the  necessity  of  a 
representative  perception,  is  not  only  insufficient,  but  self-contra- 
dictory. 

The  second  ground  on  which  it  has  been  attempted  to  establish 

the  necessity  of  this  hypothesis,  is  one  which  has. 

The  second  groun         jjgen  more  generally  and  more  oix'nly  founded 

of  rejection.  ^  .  "  .     , 

on  than  tlie  precedmg.  Mind  and  matter,  it  is. 
said,  are  substances,  not  only  of  different,  but  of  the  most  opposite, 
natures  ;  separated,  as  some  philosophers  express  it,  by  the  whole 
diameter  of  being: :  but  what  immediately  knows  must  be  of  a 
nature  correspondent,  analogous,  to  that  wliich  is  known  ;  mind 
cannot,  therefore,  be  conscious  or  immediately  cognizant  of  what  is. 
so  disjn'oportioned  to  its  essence  as  matter. 

This  2>nnciple  is  one  whose  influence  is  seen  pervading  the  whole 

history  of  philosophy,  and  tlie  tracing  of  this 

This   principle  has       i„flj^,.,^,  ^  would  form  the  subject  of  a  curious 

influenced  the   wliole 

history  of  phiiosopiiy.       treatise.^     To  It  we  principally  owe  the  doctrine 

of  a  representative  2y&rception^  in  one  or  other  of 
its  forms ;  and  in  a  higlier  or  lower  potence,  according  as  the  re])re- 
sentative  object  was  held  to  be,  in  relation  to  mind,  of  a  nature 
eitlier  the  same  or  similar.  Derivative  from  the  prinoijile  in  its 
lower  potence  or  degree  (tliat  is,  the  immediate  object  being  sup- 
posed to  be  only  something  similar  to  the  mind),  we  have,  among 
other  less  celebrated  and  less  definite  theories,  the  intoitional  spe- 
cies of  the  schoolmen  (at  least  as  generally  held),  and  the  ideas  of 
Malebranche  and  Berkeley.  Tn  its  higher  potence  (tliat  is,  where 
the  representative  object  is  supposcil  to  be  of  a  nature  not  iiiorcly  sim- 
ilar to,  but  identical  with,  iiiind,  though  it  may  be  numerically  differ- 
ent from  individual  minds),  it  ailbrds  us,  among  other  mo<lifications, 
the  gnostic  reasons  (Xoyoi  yvwo-riKoi)  of  the  Platonists,  tlie  jyree.rii^t- 
ing  species  of  Avicenna  and  otlici-  .Vrabian  Aristotelians,  the  ideas 
of  Descartes,  Arnauld,  Leilmitz,  Buffiei',  and  Condillac,  the  p/ne- 
nornena  of  Kant,  and  the  external  states  of  Di-.  Bidwii.  It  is 
doubtful  to  which  head  we  should  refer  Locke,  and  Newton,  and 
Clarke,  —  nay,  whether  we  should  not  refer  them  to  the  class  of 
those  who,  like  Democritus,  Epicurus,  and  Digby,  view  cd  the  repre- 
sentative or  immediate  object,  as  a  material  efflux  or  jiropagatiou 
fi'om  the  external  reality  to  the  bi-;un. 

This  ])rin(iple  also  indirectly  determined  many  celebrated  theo* 

1  Cf.  Reid'i  Works,  p  300,  note,  and  Discuisions,  p.  61.  —  Kd. 


352  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXY 

ries  in  philosophy,  as  the  Jiierarchical  gradation  of  souls  or  sub- 
stantial faculties,  held  hy  many  followers  of  Aristotle,  tlie  oxol  or 
vehictdar  media  of  the  Platonists,  the  plastic  mediwn  of  Cudworth 
and  Le  Clerc,  the  doctrine  of  the  community,  oneness,  or  identity, 
of  the  human  intellect  in  all  men,  maintained  by  the  Aplirodisian, 
Themistius,  Averroes,  Cajetanus,  and  Zabarella,  the  vision  of  all 
tJiirtgs  in  the  Deity  of  Malebranche,  and  the  Cartesian  and  Leibnit- 
zian  doctrine  of  assistance  and  pre'estahlished  harmony.  To  the 
influence  of  the  same  2>nnciple,  through  the  refusal  of  the  testimony 
of  consciousness  to  the  duality  of  our  knowledge,  are  also  medi- 
ately to  be  traced  the  unitarian  systems  of  absolute  identity,  mate- 
rialism, and  idealism. 

But,  if  no  principle  was  ever  more  universal  in  its  effects,  none 
was  ever  more  arbitrarily  assumed.     It  not  only 
\Tv2-  ^^  ^""^^^^^'^       can  pretend  to  no  necessity ;  it  has  absolutely 
no  probability  in  its  favor.     Some  philosophers, 
as  Anaxagoras,  Heraclitus,  Alcmieon,  have  even  held  that  the  rela- 
tion of  knowledge  supposes,  not  a  similarity  or  sameness  between 
subject  and  object,  but,  in  fact,  a  contrariety  or  opposition  ;  and 
Aristotle  himself  is  sometimes  in  fiivor  of  this  opinion,  though, 
sometimes,  it  would  apjiear,  in  fovor  of  the  other.^     But,  however 

this  may  be,  each  assertion  is  just  as  likely,  and 

'"    *  ""P "  °*<>P  ^''      j^igt  j^g  unphilosophical,  as  its  converse.      "We 

know,  and  can  know,  nothing  a  priori  of  what 

is  possible  or  impossible  to  mind,  and  it  is  only  by  observation  and 

by  generalization  a  posteriori,  that  we  can  ever  hope  to  attain  any 

insight  into  the  question.     But  the  very  first  fact  of  our  experience 

contradicts  the  assertion,  that  mind,  as  of   an 
z.  Contradicted  by       opposite    nature,  can  have  no  immediate  cog- 

the  first    tact   of   our  .  ,  . 

experience.  nizance   of  matter ;  for  the   primary  datum   of 

consciousness  is,  that,  in  perception,  we  have  an 
intuitive  knowledge  of  the  ego  and  of  the  non-ego,  equally  and  at 
once.  This  second  ground,  therefore,  affords  ns  no  stronger  neces- 
sity than  the  first,  for  denying  the  possibility  of  the  fact  of  which 
consciousness  assures  us. 

The  third  ground  on  Avhich  the  representative  hypothesis  of  per- 
ception  is  founded,  and   that  apparently   alone 
The  third  ground  of       contemplated  bv  Reid  and  Stewart,  is,  that  the 

rejection.  .  «  ' 

mind  can  only  know  immediately  that  to  which 
it  is  immediately  present ;  but  as  external  objects  can  neither  them- 
selves come  into  the  mind,  nor  the  mind  go  out  to  them,  such 
presence   is   impossible ;    therefore,   external   objects    can    only  be 

1  See  above,  p.  205,  note.  — Ed. 


Lect.  XXV.  METAPHYSICS.  353 

mediately  known,  through  some  representative  object,  whether  that 
■object  be  a  modification  of  mind,  or  something  in  immediate  rela- 
tion to  the  mind.  It  was  this  difficulty  of  bringing  the  subject  and 
object  into  proximate  relation,  that,  in  part,  determined  all  the  vari- 
ous schemes  of  a  representative  perception  ;  but  it  seems  to  have 
been  the  one  which  solely  determined  the  peculiar  form  of  that 
■doctrine  in  the  philosojihy  of  Democritus,  Epicurus,  Digby,  and 
others,  under  which  it  is  held,  that  the  immediate  or  internal  object 
is  a  rei)resentative  emanation,  propagated  from  the  external  reality 
to  the  sensorium. 

Now  this  objection  to  the  immediate  cognition  of  external  objects, 

has,  as  far  as  I  know,  been  redargued  in  three 

Has  been  redargued       fiiflf-.^rcnt  wavs.     In  the  first  placc,  it  has  been 

in       three      different  i       •     i       ,       '    i  i  i- 

^jyg  denied,  that  the   external  reality  cannot  itself 

come  into  the  mind.  In  the  second,  it  has  been 
asserted,  that  a  faculty  of  the  mind  itself  does  actually  go  out  to 
the  external  reality  ;  and,  in  the  third  place,  it  has  been  maintained 
that,  though  the  mind  neither  goes  out,  nor  the  reality  comes  in, 
and  though  subject  and  object  are,  therefore,  not  present  to  each 
other,  still  that  the  mind,  through  the  agency  of  God,  has  an  immc' 
<liate  perception  of  the  external  object. 

The  first  mode  of  obviating  the  present  objection  to  the  possi- 
bility of    an    immediate   perception,    might   be 
'^     ^^'       thought  too  absurd  to  have  been  ever  attemiited. 

geant.  o  _  '       _ 

But  the  observation  of  Varro,'  that  there  is 
nothing  so  absurd  which  has  not  been  asserted  by  some  philosopher, 
is  not  destined  to  be  negatived  in  the  present  instance.  In  opposi- 
tion to  Locke's  thesis,  "  that  the  mind  knows  not  things  immediately, 
but  only  by  the  intervention  of  the  ideas  it  has  of  them,"  and  in 
opposition  to  the  whole  doctrine  of  re])resentation,  it  is  maintained, 
in  terms,  by  Sergeant,  that  "I  know  the  very  thing;  therefore,  the 
very  thing  is  in  my  act  of  knowledge  ;  but  my  act  of  knowledge  is 
in  my  understanding ;  therefore,  the  thing  which  is  in  my  knowl- 
edge, is  also  in  my  understanding."^  We  may  suspect  that  this  is 
only  a  paradoxical  way  of  stating  his  opinion;  but  though  this 
author,  the  earliest  and  one  of  the  most  eloquent  of  Locke's  antag- 
onists, be   destitute  neither  of  learning  nor  of  acuteness,  I  must 

1  la   a   frn{;niont    of  liis  satire  Ein/uni'l'-,,  j„  cicero ;  De  m vitiation f.ii.  5fi:  "Sed,noscit 

preserved  by  Nonius  Mnrcellu8,  J)e  Proimetate  ,n,onu)do,  nihil  tani  ubsur.le  <lici  uoti'st,  .iwod 

Sennonis,  c.  i.  n.  276,  r.  Infans :  —  Hou  dicatur  ab  aliquo  philosophorum."—  Ed. 
■"rostrenui  nemo  icRrolns  nuicqunTn  somnint 

Taiii.nfan.luMiquo<lnonaliqui«dicotphilo»ophu!.."  o  Solid  Philosophy,  p.  29.     [See  above,  lect. 

But  the  words  in  the  text  occur  more  exactly  xxiv.  p.  331.  —  Ed  ] 

45 


354  METAPHYSICS, 


Lect.  XX\- 


confess,  that  Locke  and  Molyneux  cannot  be  blamed  in  pronouncing 
his  doctrine  unintelligible. 

The  second  mode  of  obviating  the   objection,  —  by  alloAving  to 

the  mind  a  power  of  sallying  out  to  the  external 

The  second  by  Em-       reality,  has  higher  authority  in  its  favor.     That 

pedoclef,  the  IMaton-  •••<!•  i  i  •  •         /. 

jgjg  gj^.  Vision  is  etiected  by  a  perceptive  emanation  from 

the  eye,  was  held  by  Empedocles,  the  Platonists, 
and  Stoics,  and  was  adopted  also  by  Alexander  the  Aphrodisian,  by 
Euclid,  Ptolemy,  Galen,  and  Alchindus.^  This  opinion,  as  held  by 
these  philosophers,  was  limited  ;  and,  though  erroneous,  is  not  to  be 
viewed  as  irrational.  But  in  the  hands  of  Lord  Monboddo,  it  is 
can'ied  to  an  absurdity  which  leaves  even  Sergeant  far  behind. 
"  The  mind,"  says  the  learned  author  of  Antient  Metophysics^  "  is 
not  where  the  body  is,  when  it  perceives  what  is  distant  from  the 
body,  either  in  time  or  place,  because  nothing  can  act  but  when  and 
where  it  is.  Now  the  mind  acts  when  it  perceives.  The  mind, 
therefore,  of  every  animal  who  has  memory  or  imagination,  acts, 
and,  by  consequence,  exists,  when  and  where  the  body  is  not ;  for  it 
perceives  objects  distant  from  the  body,  both  in  time  and  place."^ 
The  third  mode  is  apparently  that  adopted  by  Reid  and  Stewart, 
M'ho  hold,  that  the  mind  has  an  immediate 
,^!.     "^      ^      ^^         knowledo;e  of  the  external  realitv,  thousrh  the 

and  Stewart.  .  °  _  »  '  o 

subject  and  object  may  not  be  present  to  each 
other;  and,  though  this  be  not  explicitly  or  obtrusively  stated,  that 
the  mind  obtains  this  immediate  knowledge  through  the  agency  of 
God.  Dr.  Reid's  doctrine  of  perception  is  thus  summed  up  by  Mr. 
Stewart :  "  To  what  then,  it  may  be  asked,  does  this  statement 
amount  ?  Merely  to  this :  that  the  mind  is  so  formed  that  certain 
impressions  produced  on  our  organs  of  sense  by  external  objects,  are 
followed  by  corresj^ondent  sensations  and  that  these  sensations, 
(which  have  no  more  resemblance  to  the  qualities  of  matter  than  the 
words  of  a  language  have  to  the  things  they  denote),  are  followed 
by  a  perception  of  the  existence  and  qualities  of  the  bodies,  by  which 
the  impressions  are  made ;  that  all  the  steps  of  this  })rocess  are 
equally  incomprehensible  ;  and  that,  for  anything  we  can  prove  to 
the  contrary,  the  connection  between  the  sensation  and  the  percep- 
tion, as  well  as  that  between  the  impression  and  the  sensation,  may 
be  both  arbitrary ;  that  it  is  therefore  by  no  means  imj^ossible,  that 
our  sensations  may  be  merely  the  occasions  on  which  the  corres- 
pondent perceptions  are  excited;  and  that,^at  any  rate,  the  consid- 
eration of  these  sensations,  which  are  attributes  of  mind,  can  throw 

1  See  above,  lect.  xxi.  p.  290.  —  Ed. 

2  See  .indent  Mttaphysics,yo\.  ii.  p.  306.  and  above,  lect.  xxi.  p.  291  —Ed. 


I 


Lect.  XXV.  METAPHYSICS.  355 

no  light  on  the  manner  in  which  we  acquire  our  knowledge  of  the 
existence  and  qualities  of  body.     From  this  view  of  the  subject  it 
follows,  that  it  is  the  external  objects  themselves,  and  not  any  spe- 
cies or  images  of  the  objects,  that  the  mind  ])erceives ;  an<l  that, 
although,  by  the  constitution  of  our  nature,  certain  sensations  are 
rendered  the  constant  antecedents  of  our  perceptions,  yet  it  is  just  as 
difficult  to  explain  how  our  perceptions  are  obtained  by  their  means, 
as  it  would  be  upon  the  supposition  that  the  mind  Avere  all  at  once 
inspired  with  them,  without  any  concomitant  sensations  whatever."^ 
This  statement,  when  illustrated  Uy  the  doctrine  of  these  philoso- 
phers in  regard  to  the   ilistinctions  of  Efficient 
Their  opinion  ainn.st       .j,j,|  piiysieal  Causcs,  might  be  almost  identified 

identical  with  the  doc-  •   i       i  *     /-i  •  i  •  r>  r-^ 

trine  of  Occasional  "^^'^^'^  ^^^  Cartesuiu  doctrmc  of  Occasional  Cau- 
Causes.  ses.    According  to  Reid  and  Stewart,-  —  and  the 

opinion  has  been  more  explicitly  asserted  by  the 
latter,  —  there  is  no  really  efficient  cause  in  nature  but  one,  viz.,  the 
Deity.  What  are  called  pliysical  causes  and  effects  being  antece- 
dents and  consequents,  but  not  in  virtue  of  any  mutual  and  neces- 
sary dependence  ;  —  the  only  efficient  being  God,  Avho,  on  occasion 
of  the  antecedent,  which  is  called  the  physical  cause,  produces  the 
consequent,  which  is  called  the  physical  effect.  So  in  the  case  of 
perception  ;  the  cognition  of  the  external  object  is  not,  or  may  not 
be,  a  consequence  of  the  immediate  and  natural  relation  of  that 
object  to  the  mind,  but  of  the  agency  of  God,  who,  as  it  were, 
reveals  the  outer  existence  to  our  perception.  A  similar  doctrine  is 
held  by  a  great  German  philosopher,  Frederick  Henry  Jacobi.'' 

To  tills  opinion  many  objections  occur.  In  the  first  place,  so  far 
is  it  from  being,  as  Mr.  Stewart  affirms,  a  [tlain 

And   exposed   to       statement  of  the  facts,  apart  froni  all  hypothesis, 

many  objections.  •.     •  •,.     ,1       ,  ^1     ^'      1         t        .1*  1 

•,,      .,    .    ,  It   IS    manitestiv   hypothetical.      In    the   second 

1.  Hypothetical.  "         •'  *_ 

2.  Mystical.  i)lace,   the    hypothesis    assumes  an   occult  jiriii- 

3.  iiyperphysicai.  ciple  ;  —  it  is  mystical.     In  the  third  place,  the 

hypothesis    is    hyper|)hysical,  —  calling    in    the 
proximate  assistance  of  the  Deity,  wliilc  the  necessity  of  such  inter- 
vention is  not  established.     In  the  fourth  jilace, 

4.  Cioes  to   frustrate  •,  i-        ^      j.-        ^      ^      ^^  1      1        i       ^    • 

...       ,,....  it  goes  even  lar  to  irustrate  the  whole  doctrine 

a  doctrine  of  Intuitive  '^ 

Perception.  of  the  two  ])hilosophers  in  regard  to  ]ierccption, 

as  a  doctrine  of  intuition.     For  if  God  has  be- 
stowed on  me  the  faculty  of  immediately  j)erceiving  the  external 

1  Stewnrrs  Works,  vol.  ii.  pp.  Ill,  112.  3  DnvitI  Hinjir.  Mrr  den  Glauhen,  Werke.  ii 

2  Keid,  Intellectual  Powers,  Essay  ii.  c.  vi.;  p.  165;  Uhe;  ilie  Lrhre  r/es  Spiiinza.  Werke.  iv 
Active  Potcers,  Kssay  i.  c.  v.  vi. :  H<say  iv.  c.  ii.  p.  211.  Quoted  hy  Sir  W.  Hamilton.  /Jm//' 
iii.     Stewart,  EUments,  vol.  i.  c.  i.  i  2;  vol.  ii.  Works,  p.  793. —  Ed. 

c.  iv.  i  1.  — Ed. 


356  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXV 

object,  there  is  no  need  to  suppose  the  necessity  of  an  immediate 
intervention  of  the  Deity  to  make  that  act  effectual ;  and  if,  on  the 
contrary,  the  perception  I  have  of  the  reality  is  only  excited  by  the 
ao-ency  of  God,  then  I  can  hardly  be  held  to  know  that  reality, 
immediately  and  in  itself,  but  only  mediately,  through  the  notion 
of  it  determined  in  my  mind. 

Let  us  try,  then,  whether  it  be  impossible,  not  to  explain  (for  that 

it  would  be  ridiculous  to  dream  of  attempting). 

The  possibility  of  an       but  to  render  intelligible  the  possibility  of  an 

immediate  perception       immediate  perception  of  external  objects  ;  with- 

o  externa  o  jec  s  in-         ^^  assuming  any  of  the  three  preceding  hy- 

telligible.  »  J  r  o       ./ 

potheses,  and  without  postulatmg  aught  that 
can  fairly  be  refused. 

Now  in  the  first  place,  there  is  no  good  ground  to  suppose,  that 

the  mind   is  situate  solely  in  the  brain,  or  ex- 

1.  No  ground  to  sup-       clusively  in  any  one  part  of  the  body.      On  the 

pose  that  the  mind  is       contrary,  the  supposition  that  it  is  really  present 

situated  solely  in  any  •  ^u    i.    -^         ^  • 

^  ^^1,  1  J  wherever  we  are  conscious  that  it  acts,  —  in  a 

one  part  of  the  body.  _  _  '      _ 

word,  the  Peripatetic  aphorism,  the  soul  is  all 
in  the  whole  and  all  in  every  part,  ^  —  is  more  philosophical,  and, 
consequently,  more  probable  than  any  other  opinion.  It  has  not 
been  always  noticed,  even  by  those  who  deem  themselves  the  chosen 

champions  of  the  immateriality  of  mind,  that  we 
We  materialize  mind       j^aterializc   miud  whcu  wc  attribute  to   it  the 

in  attributing  to  it  the  ,.  ^^  mi  ^      ^^   -u    * 

relations  of  matter.  relations  of  matter.      Ihus,  we  cannot  attribute 

a  local  seat  to  the  soul,  without  clothing  it  with 
the  properties  of  extension  and  place,  and  those  who  suppose  this 
seat  to  be  but  a  point,  only  aggravate  the  difficulty.  Admitting  the 
spirituality  of  mind,  all  that  we  know  of  the  relation  of  soul  and 
body  is,  that  the  former  is  connected  with  the  latter  in  a  way  of 
which  we  are  wholly  ignorant ;  and  that  it  holds  relations,  different 
both  in  degree  and  kind,  with  different  parts  of  the  organism.  We 
bave  no  rifht,  however,  to  say  that  it  is  limited  to  any  one  part  of 
the  oro-anism ;  for  even  if  we  admit  that  the  nervous  system  is  the 
part  to  which  it  is  proximately  united,  still  the  nervous  system  is 
itself  universally  ramified  throughout  the  body  ;  and  we  have  no 
more  right  to  deny  that  the  mind  feels  at  the  finger-points,  as  con- 
sciousness assures  us,  than  to  assert  that  it  thinks  exclusively  in  the 
brain.  The  sum  of  our  knowledge  of  the  connection  of  mind  and 
body  is,  therefore,  this,  —  that  the  mental  modifications  are  depen- 

1  Arist  de  Anima  i.  5,  31;  "E./  fKarepcv  rwv  Rpatium  loci,  sed  in  unoquoque  corpore  et  in 

^op.'o,.  'a^arr'  .Wcipx"  t^  ^<^P"^  ^^^  ^^xh^'  ^'^*°  *"*''  ^'^^  ''  '"  *1"'"^^''  T'  parte  tota 

Augustin,D.  Trinttate,  vi.6:  ■'Ideosimplicior  est.-    See  above,  lect.  xx.  p.  271,  note  11.- 

«st   corpore,  quia  non  mole  diffunditur  per  Ed. 


Lect.  XXV.  METAPHYSICS.  357 

dent  on  certain    coq^ore.il  conditions  ;  but   of  the  n.ature  of  tliese 

conditions  we  know  nothing.     For  example,  we 

Sum  of  our  knowl-         i i  •  ^u    ^   ^i  •     t 

know,  by  exiienence,  that  the  mind   perceives 

edge  of  the  connection  ^  l  i  i 

ofmind  and  body.  Only  through  Certain  organs  of  sense,  and   that, 

through  these  different  organs,  it  perceives  in  a 
different  manner.  But  whether  the  senses  be  instruments,  Avhether 
they  be  media,  or  whether  they  be  only  partial  outlets  to  the  mind 
incarcerated  in  the  body,  —  on  all  this  we  can  only  theorize  and  con- 
jecture. We  have  no  reason  whatever  to  believe,  contrary  to  the 
testimony  of  consciousness,  that  there  is  an  action  or  affection  of 
the  bodily  sense  previous  to  the  mental  perception ;  or  that  the 
mind  only  perceives  in  the  head,  in  consequence  of  the  impression 
on  the  organ.     On  the  other  hand,  we  liave  no  reason  whatever  to 

doubt  the  report  of  consciousness,  that  we  actu- 
What  is  meant  by       .^i|    pereeive  at  the  external  point  of  sensation, 

perceiving  the  material  .  ^ 

reality?  ii»fi  that  we  perceive  the  material  reality.     But 

what  is  meant  by  j^erceiving  the  material  reality? 

In  the  first  j^lace,  it  does  not  mean  that  we  perceive  the  material 

reality  absolutely  and  in  itself,  that  is,  out  of 

The  total  and  real       relation    to  our   organs    and   faculties :    on    the 

object  of  Perception, 

^hat.  conti-ary,  the  total  and   real   object   of   percep- 

tion is  the  external  object  under  relation  to  our 
sense  and  faculty  of  cognition.  But  though  thus  relative  to  us, 
the  object  is  still  no  representation,  —  no  mo<lification  of  the  ego. 
It  is  the  non-ego,  —  the  non-ego  modified,  and  relative,  it  may  be, 
but  still  the  non-ego.  I  formerly  illustrated  this  to  you  by  a  sup- 
position. Suppose  that  the  total  object  of  consciousness  in  pereejt- 
tion  is  =  12;  and  suppose  that  the  external  reality  contributes  6, 
the  material  sense  3,  and  the  mind  3;  —  this  may  enable  you  to 
form  some  rude  conjecture  of  the  nature  of  the  object  of  percep- 
tion.' 

But,  in  the  second  place,  what  is  meant  by  the  external  object 

perceive<l?      Nothing  can   be   conceived   more 

What  is  meant  by       Hdiculous  than  the  Opinion  of  philosophers  in 

the     external     object  j  i  •  tt 

perceived?  regard  to  this,     tor  example,  it  has  been  curi- 

ously held  (and  Reid  is  no  exception),  that  in 
looking  at  the  sun,  moon,  or  any  other  object  of  sight,  we  are,  on 
the  one  doctrine,  actually  conscious  of  these  distant  objects;  or, 
on  the  other,  that  these  distant  objects  are  those  really  represented 
in  the  mind.  Nothing  can  be  more  al)surd  :  we  perceive,  through 
no  sense,  aught  external  but  what  is  in  iiiiinediate  relation  ami  in 
immediate  contact  with  its  organ ;  and  that  is  true  which  Demo- 

1  See  above,  lect.  viii.  p.  103. —  Ed. 


358  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXV 

critus  of  old  asserted,  that  all  our  senses  are  only  modifications  of 
touch.^  Through  the  eye  we  perceive  nothing  but  the  rays  of 
liglit  in  relation  to,  and  in  contact  with,  the  retina ;  what  we  add 
to  this  perception  must  not  be  taken  into  account.     The  same  is 

true  of  the  other  senses.     Now,  what  is  there 
Nothing  especially       monstrous  or  inconceivable  in  this  doctrine  of 

inconceivable    in    the  •  t    ,  ^'        o       rm  i  • 

,    ,.       ,      .  an    immediate    perception?      Ihe    obiects   are 

doctrine  of  an  imme-  _  \  ^  •' 

diate  perception.  neither  Carried   into   the   mind,  nor  the   mind 

made  to  sally  out  to  them ;  nor  do  we  require 
a  miracle  to  justify  its  possibility.  In  fact,  the  consciousness  of 
external  objects,  on  this  doctrine,  is  not  more  inconceivable  than 
the  consciousness  of  species  or  ideas  on  the  doctrine  of  the  school- 
men, Malebranche,  or  Berkeley.  In  either  case,  there  is  a  con- 
sciousness of  the  non-ego,  and,  in  either  case,  the  ego  and  non-ego 
are  in  intimate  relation.  There  is,  in  fact,  on  this  hypothesis,  no 
greater  marvel,  that  the  mind  should  be  cognizant  of  the  external 
reality,  than  that  it  should  be  connected  with  a  body  at  all.  The 
latter  being  the  case,  the  former  is  not  even  improbable ;  all  inex- 
plicable as  both  equally  remain.  "We  are  unable,"  says  Pascal, 
"  to  conceive  what  is  mind ;  Ave  are  unable  to  conceive  what  is 
matter;  still  less  are  we  able  to  conceive  how  these  are  united;  — 
yet  this  is  our  proper  nature."^  So  much  in  refutation  of  the  third 
ground  of  difficulty  to  the  doctrine  of  an  immediate  perception. 
The  fourth  ground  of  rejection  is  that  of  Hume.  It  is  alleged 
by  him  in  the  sequel  of  the  paragraph  of  which 
The  fourth  ground       J   ]^^^,q  already  quoted  to  vou  the  commence- 

of  rejection.  —,,.'.  -, '       .  .     . 

Hume  quoted.  ment :  "  I  his  Universal  and  primary  opinion  oi 

all  men  is  soon  destroyed  by  the  slightest  phi- 
losophy, which  teaches  us,  that  nothing  can  ever  be  present  to  the 
mind  but  an  image  or  perception,  and  that  the  senses  are  only  the 
inlets,  through  which  these  images  are  conveyed,  without  being 
ever  able  to  produce  any  immediate  intercourse  between  the  mind 
and  the  object.  The  table  which  we  see,  seems  to  diminish,  as  we 
remove  flirther  from  it :  but  the  real  table  which  exists  independent 
of  us  suffers  no  alteration :  it  was,  therefore,  nothing  but  its  image, 
which  was  present  to  the  mind.  These  are  the  obvious  dictates  of 
reason ;  and  no  man,  who  reflects,  ever  doubted  that  the  existences, 
which  we  consider,  when  we  say  this^  house,  and  that  tree,  are  noth- 
ing but  perceptions  in  the  mind,  anU  fleeting  copies  or  representa- 
tions of  other  existences,  which  remain  uniform  and  independent."'' 

1  See  below,  lect.  xxvii.  p.  374.  —  Ed.  3  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding, 

2  Pensees  [partie  i.  art.  vi.  26;  vol   ii   p.  74,       sect.  xii.     [Of  the  Academical  or  Skeptical  Phr 
•dit.  Faugere,  —  Ed.]  losophy,  p.  367,  368,  edit  1758.  —  Ed.) 


Lect.  XX y.  METAPHYSICS..  359 

This  objection  to  the  veracity  of  consciousness  will  not  occasion 

us  much  trouble.     Its  refutation  is,  in  fact,  con- 

Proceeds  on  a  mis-       tainetl  iu  the  verv  statement  of  the    real  ex- 

take   of  what  the  ob-  i       i  •  c  •  mi 

ject  iu  perception  is.  Vernal  objcct  of  perception.  The  whole  argu- 
ment consists  in  a  mistake  of  what  that  object 
is.  Tliat  a  thing,  viewed  close  to  the  eye,  sliould  apjiear  larger  and 
differently  figured,  than  when  seen  at  a  distance,  and  that,  at  too 
arreat  a  distance,  it  should  even  become  for  us  invisible  alto<;ether: 
—  this  only  shows  that  what  changes  the  real  object  of  sight,  —  the 
reflected  rays  in  contact  with  the  eye,  —  also  changes,  as  it  ought 
to  change,  our  perception  of  such  object.  This  ground  of  diffi- 
culty could  be  refuted  through  the  whole  senses;  but  its  weiglit  is 
not  sufficient  to  entitle  it  to  any  further  consideration.^ 

The  fifth  ground  on  which  the  necessity  of  substituting  a  repre- 
sentative for   an  intuitive  percej)tion   has   been 
e        grouni  o         maiiitaiiied,  is  that  of  Fichte.'-     It  asserts  that 

rejection. 

the  nature  of  the  ego,  as  an  intelligence  en- 
dowed with  will,  makes  it  absolutely  necessary,  that,  of  all  external 
objects  of  perception,  there  should  be  representative  modifications 
in  the  mind.  For  as  the  ego  itself  is  that  which  wills;  therefore, 
in  so  far  as  the  will  tends  toward  objects,  these  must  lie  within 
the  ego.  An  external  reality  cannot  lie  within  the  ego;  there 
must,  therefore,  be  supposed,  within  the  mind,  a  representation 
of  this  reality  diflferent  from  the  reality  itself 

Tliis  fifth  argument  involves  sundry  vices,  and  is  not  of  greater 

value  than  the  four  preceding. 
Involves    sundry  111  the  first  place,  it  proceeds  on  the  assertion, 

"*■'"*•  that  the  objects  on  which  the  M-ill  is  directed, 

1.    Asserts  that   tlie  .   ,.  ..,  •      ,,  .,,.  -^      i^^       t-.        i 

. .   ,  ,  ■  ,  .,         must  lie  within  tlie  willing  ego  itself     But  how 

objects   on   wliicli  the  '^       ~ 

will  is  directed  must       IS  tliis  assertion   })roved?      That   the   will   can 
lie  within  tlie  ego.  only  tend  toward  those    things   of  which    the 

ego  has  itself  a  knowledge,  is  undoubtedly  true. 
But  from  this  it  does  not  follow,  that  the  object  to  which  the 
knowledge  is  relative,  must,  at  the  same  time,  be  present  with  it 
in  the  ego;  but  if  there  be  a  jierccptive  cognition,  that  is,  a  con- 
sciousness of  some  object  external  to  the  ego,  this  perception  is 
competent  to  excite,  and  to  direct,  the  will,  notwithstanding  that 
its  object  lies  witliout  tlie  ego.  That,  therefore,  no  immediate 
knowledge  of  external  objects  is  possible,  and  that  consciousness 


1  Vide  Schulze,  Anthropolngie,  ii.  49.  .'51.3  ft  ffq. :  and  his  Brxtimmung  des  Menocktf^ 

-  See  especiiilly  his  Gnincllagf  tirr  srsnmmtrn        W'trke,  ii.  p.  217  it  se<f.  —  Ed. 
Wiaenschaftslt/iTf,  ^  4,  10.     W'erkf.  i.  pp.  134. 


360  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXV. 

is  exclusively  limited  to  the  ego,  is  not  evinced,  by  this  argument 
of  Fichte,  but  simply  assumed. 

In  the  second  place,  this  argument  is  faulty,  in  that  it  takes  no 

account  of  the  difference  betw^een  those  cogni- 

2.  Takes  no  account       ^j^^^^  ^.j^j^j^  jj^  ^^^  ^j^^  root  of  the  energies  of 

of  tbe  difference  be- 

tween  cognitions.  "^i^^  ^"^  the  Other  knids  of  knowledge.     Thus^ 

our  will  never  tends  to  what  is  present,  —  to 
what  we  possess,  and  immediately  cognize;  but  is  always  directed 
on  the  future,  and  is  concerned  either  with  the  continuance  of  those 
states  of  the  ego,  which  are  already  in  existence,  or  with  the  j)ro- 
duction  of  wholly  novel  states.  But  the  future  cannot  be  intui- 
tively, immediately,  perceived,  but  only  represented  and  mediately 
conceived.  That  a  mediate  cognition  is  necessary,  as  the  condition 
of  an  act  of  will,  —  this  does  not  prove,  that  every  cognition  must 
be  mediate.' 

We  have  thus  found  by  an  examination  of  the  various  grounds 

on   which  it   has   been   attempted   to  establish 

ese  groun  s  o  re-       ^j^^  necessity  of  rejecting  the  testimony  of  con- 

jection   are  thus,  one  .    .  . 

and  all,  incompetent.        sciousncss  to  the   mtuitive    perception   of  the 

external  world,  that  these  grounds  are,  one  and 
all,  incompetent.  I  shall  proceed  in  my  next  Lecture  to  the 
second  section  of  the  discussion,  —  to  consider  the  nature  of  the 
hypothesis  of  Representation  or  Cosmothetic  Idealism,  by  which  it 
is  proposed  to  replace  the  fact  of  consciousness,  and  the  doctrine  of 
Natural  Realism  ;  and  shall  show  you  that  this  hypothesis,  though, 
under  various  modifications,  adopted  in  almost  every  system  of 
philosophy,  fulfils  none  of  the  conditions  oi  ?  legitimate  hypothesis. 

1  Vide  Schulze,  Anthropologie,  ii.  p.  52     [Cf  )  53-  th^d  «dit  — Eo.J 


LECTURE    XXVI. 

THE   PRESENTATIVE   FACULTY. 

I. PERCEPTION. THE     KEI'RESENTATIVK    HYPOTHESIS. 

No  opinion  has  perhaps  been  so  universally  a(loj)ted  in  the  vari. 
ous  schools  of  ])hilosoi)hv,  and  more  esi)eciallv 

Kecapitulation.  imi 

of  modern  philosophy,  as  the  doctrine  of  a  Rep- 
resentative Perception  ;  and,  in  our  last  Lecture,  I  was  engaged  in 
considering  the  grounds  on  which  this  doctrine  reposes.  The 
order  of  the  discussion  was  determined  by  the  order  of  the  subject. 
It  is  manifest,  that,  in  rejecting  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to 
our  immediate  knowledge  of  the  non-ego,  the  philosophers  were 
bound  to  evince  the  absolute  necessity  of  their  rejection;  and,  in 
the  second  place,  in  substituting  an  hyj)Othesis  in  the  room  of  the 
rejected  fact,  they  were  bound  to  substitute  a  legitimate  hypothesis, 
that  is,  one  which  does  not  violate  the  laws  under  which  an  hypoth- 
esis can  be  rationally  proi)osed.  I  stated,  therefore,  that  I  should 
divide  the  criticism  of  their  doctrine  into  two  sections  :  that,  in  the 
former,  I  shoy[l<l  state  the  reasons  which  have  persuaded  philoso- 
phers of  the  impossibility  of  acquiescing  in  the  evidence  of  con- 
sciousness, endeavoring  at  the  same  time  to  show  that  these  reasons 
attbrd  no  warrant  to  the  conclusion  wliich  they  are  supposed  even 
to  necessitate  ;  and,  in  the  latter,  attem])t  to  prove,  that  the  hypoth- 
esis proposed  by  philosophers  in  lieu  of  the  fact  of  consciousness,, 
does  not  fulfil  the  conditions  of  a  legitimate  hypothesis,  and  is^ 
therefore,  not  only  unnecessary,  but  inadmissible.  The  first  of  these 
sections  terminated  the  Lecture.  I  stated  that  there  ai-e  in  all  five 
grounds,  on  which  ]»hiloso|)hers  have  <leeined  themselves  com|>elled 

to  reject  the  fact  of  our  immediate  consciousness 

II.  The    nature    of  r>  .1  •  ,•  i   ..  1  1  • 

.,      ,        ,    .      ,.  <J*  the  non-ego   in  perception,  and  to  place  nhi- 

the     liypotliesiN    of    a  ... 

Kt'preficntativo  ivi-  losopliy  in  contradiction  to  the  common  sense  of 
ception.  It  violates  mankind.  The  grounds  I  considered  in  detail, 
aiitiuoon.ii.i.,«sofa       ^i,j  ,^-,1x0  vou  somc  of  the   more  manifest  rea- 

legitiniate  hypotheKi.s.  1  •    1'  !••»•• 

sons  winch  went    to    prove    thiir  msurhoiency. 
This  discussion  1  shall  not  attempt  to  recaj)itulate  ;  ami  now  proceed 

4G 


362  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXVI 

to  the  second  section  of  the  subject,  —  to  consider  the  hypothesis  of 
a  Representative  Perception,  by  which  it  is  proposed  to  replace  the 
fact  of  consciousness  which  testifies  to  our  immediate  perception  of 
the  external  world.  On  the  hypothesis,  the  doctrine  of  Cosmo- 
thetic  Idealism  is  established :  on  the  fact,  the  doctrine  of  Natural 
Dualism. 

^In  the  first  place,  from  the  grounds  on  which  the  cosmothetic 
idealist   would   A'indicate   the   necessity  of  his 

Conditions  of  a  le-  .        .  o      ^  -i  n  • 

eitimate  L ypothesis.  —  rejection  of  the  datum  of  consciousness,  the 
First,— That  it  be  nee-  hypothesis  itself  is  unnecessary.  The  examina- 
«ssary.   Tiie  hypothe-       ^i^,,^  ^f  ^jj^gg  grounds  pi-ovcs,  that  the  fact  of 

sis  in  question  unnec-  .  .  ,       •,  .        ,         .  .,  , 

consciousness  is  not  shown  to    be   impossible. 

«ssary.  _  '■ 

So  far,  tlierefore,  there  is  no  necessity  made  out 
for  its  rejection.  But  it  is  said  the  fact  of  consciousness  is  inexpli- 
calde  ;  Ave  cannot  understand  how  the  immediate  perception  of  an 
external  object  is  possible :  whereas  the  hypothesis  of  representation 
enables  us  to  comprehend  and  explain  the  phaenomenon,  and  is, 
therefore,  if  not  absolutely  necessary,  at  least  entitled  to  favor  and 
preference.  But  even  on  this  lower,  —  this  precarious  ground,  the 
hy]iothesis  is  absolutely  unnecessary.  That,  on  the  incomprehensi- 
bility of  the  feet  of  consciousness,  it  is  allowable  to  displace  the 
fact  by  an  hypothesis,  is  of  all  absurdities  the  greatest.  As  a  fact, 
^ —  an  ultimate  fact  of  consciousness,  it  must  be  incomprehensible ; 
and  were  it  comprehensible,  that  is,  did  we  know  it  in  its  causes, — 
did  we  know  it  as  contained  in  some  higher  notion,  —  it  would  not 
foe  a  primary  fact  of  consciousness,  —  it  would  not  be  an  ultimate 
•datum  of  intelligence.  Every  hotv  (Siort)  rests  ultimately  on  a  that 
(oTt),  every  demonstration  is  deduced  from  something  given  an<l 
indemonstrable ;  all  that  is  comprehensible  hangs  from  some 
revealed-  fact,  which  we  must  believe  as  actual,  but  cannot  construe 
to  the  reflective  intellect  in  its  possibility.  In  consciousness,  in  the 
original  spontaneity  of  intelligence  (vov<;,  locus  principioruni),  are 
revealed  the  primordial  facts  of  our  intelligent  nature. 

But  the  cosmothetic  idealist  has  no  right  to  ask  the  natural  realist 
for  an  explanation  of  the  fact  of  consciousness  ;  supposing  even  that 
his  own  hypothesis  were  in  itself  both  clear  and  probable,  —  suppos- 
ing that  the  consciousness  of  self  were  intelligible,  and  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  not-self  the  reverse.  For,  on  this  supposition,  the 
intelligible  consciousness  of  self  could  not  be  an  ultimate  fact,  but 


1  See  DiscMfinns.  p.  63.  the  fact;  of  the  fact  which  must  be  believert, 

2  [Tl)i8  expression  is  not  meant  to  imply  tliough  it  connot  be  understood,  cannot  be 
anything  hyperphysical.    It  is  used  to  denote  explained.]     Discussions,  p.  63,  note.  —  Ed. 
the  ultimate  and  incomprehensible  nature  of 


I 


Lect.  XXVI.        ■  METAPHYSICS.  363 

must  be  comprehended  through  a  higher  cognition,  —  a  higher  con- 
sciousness, which  would  again  be  itself  either  comprehensible  or 
not.  If  comprehensible,  this  would  of  course  require  a  still  higher 
cofirnition,  and  so  on  till  we  arrive  at  some  datum  of  intelligence, 
which,  as  highest,  Ave  could  not  understand  through  a  higher ;  so 
that,  at  best,  the  hyjtothesis  of  representation,  proposed  in  jilace  of 
the  fact  of  consciousness,  only  removes  the  difficulty  by  one  or  two 
steps.  The  end  to  be  gained  is  thus  of  no  value  ;  and,  for  this  end, 
as  we  have  seen  and  shall  see,  there  would  be  sacrificed  the  possi- 
bility of  philosophy  as  a  rational  knowledge  altogether ;  and,  in  the 
possibility  of  philosophy,  of  course,  the  possibility  of  the  very 
hy])0thesis  itself. 

But  is  the  hypothesis  really  in  itself  a  whit  more  intelligible 
than  the  foct  which  it  displaces?     The  reverse 

The  hypothesis  not       i^^  ti-^ig.     What  docs   the  hypothesis   suppose? 

more  intelligible  than         t^  ^^     ^    ^.i  •     i  a    ii  „* 

^  It   supposes  that  the  mind  can  represent  that 

the  I'act  which  it  dis-  ^  ^  .  .... 

places.  of  which  it  knows  nothing,  —  that  of  M'hich  it 

is  ignorant.  Is  tliis  more  comprehensible  than 
the  Lvlmple  fact,  that  the  mind  immediately  knows  what  is  different 
from  itself,  and  what  is  really  an  affection  of  the  bodily  organism  ? 
It  seems,  in  truth,  not  only  incomprehensible,  but  contradictory. 
The  hypothesis  of  a  representative  jierception  thus  violates  the 
first  condition  of  a  legitimate  hypothesis,  —  it  is  unnecessary;  — 
nay,  not  only  unnecessary,  it  cannot  do  what  it  professes,  —  it 
<?xplains  nothing,  it  renders  nothing  comprehensible. 

The  second  condition  of  a  legitimate  hypothesis  is,  that  it  shall 

not  subvert  that  MJiicli  it  is  devised  to  exi>lain ; 

Second, -That  tiie       — ^]y^^  \^  ^]y^^\\  ^^t  oxplodc  the  system  of  which 

livi.oiliesig    shall    not         •,     /•  ^         t>    ..    ^i  •       ^i    *    i  ii       •       • 

,.  ^  .,       It    forms   a   part.      J^ut   this,  the    hypothesis   in 

subvert  that  winch  it  _  '  _  .    .  .  '    . 

is  devised  to  explain.  qucstioii  docs ;  it  annihilates  itself  in  the  de- 
struction of  the  whole  edifice  of  knowledge. 
Belying  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  our  immediate  percep- 
tion of  an  outer  world,  it  belies  the  veracity  of  consciousness  alto- 
gether; and  the  truth  of  consciousness  is  the  condition  of  the 
possil)ility  of  all  knowledge. 

Tlie  thinl  condition  of  a  legitimate  hyj>othesis,  is,  tliat  the  fact 
or  facts,  in  explanation  of  which  it  is  devised, 

Third,  — That  the  Ix'  ascertained  really  to  exist,  and  be  not  thein- 
fact  or  facts  in  ex-       ^^.,^.^,^  h vpotlietical.'    But  SO  far  is  the  principal 

planation  of  which  it  ,  ,  ■'    ,         ,         i  i        •  r' 

is  devised,  be  not  hy-  »="'  ^^l'"''  ^''^'  I'.vpothcsis  of  a  representative 
pothetjcal.  perception    is   ])ro|)o.sed  to   explain,  from   being 

certain,  that  its  reality  is  even  renderecl  prob- 
lematical by  the  proposed  explanation  itself.     The  facts  wliich  this 


ClOUS. 


364  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXVI 

hypothesis  supposes  to  be  ascertained  and  established  are  two  — 

first,  the  fact  of  an  external  world  existing;  sec- 
Two  facts  supposed       ond,  the   fact   of  an  internal   world    knowing, 
by  the  hypothesis  in       rpj^^^^^  ^^^  hypothesis  take  for  granted.     For  h 

question,     and     their         .  ,      t     tt  i  t  o        tt 

connection  sought  to       ^^  askcd,  How  are  these  connected?  — How  can 
be  explained  by  it.  the   internal   World    know   the    external    world 

existing?  And,  in  answer  to  this  problem,  the 
hypothesis  of  representation  is  advanced  as  explaining  the  mode  of 
their  correlation.  This  hypothesis  denies  the  immediate  connec- 
tion of  the  two  facts ;  it  denies  that  the  mind,  the  internal  world, 
can  be  immediately  cognizant  of  matter,  the  external;  and  between 
the  two  worlds  it  interpolates  a  representation  which  is  at  once  the 
object  known  by  mind,  and  as  known,  an  image  vicarious  or  repre- 
sentative of  matter,  ex  hypothesis  in  itself  unknown. 

But  mark  the  vice  of  the  procedure.     We  can  only,  1°,  Assert 
the   existence  of  an   external  world,  inasmuch 

The   procedure    vi-  ^  •,     .  •    ,  i  ^        c\n 

as  we  knoAV  it  to  exist;  and  we  can  only,  2  , 
Assert  that  one  thing  is  representative  of  another, 
inasmuch  as  the  thing  represented  is  known,  independently  of  the 
representation.  But  how  does  the  hypothesis  of  a  representative 
perception  proceed  ?  It  actually  converts  the  fact  into  an  hypoth- 
esis; actually  converts  the  hypothesis  into  a  fact.  On  this  theory, 
we  do  not  know  the  existence  of  an  external  world,  except  on  the 
supposition  that  that  which  we  do  know,  truly  represents  it  as 
existing.  The  hypothetical  realist  cannot,  therefore,  establish  the 
fact  of  the  external  world,  except  upon  the  fact  of  its  representa- 
tion. This  is  manifest.  We  liave,  therefore,  next  to  ask  him,  how 
he  knows  the  fact,  that  the  external  world  is  actually  represented. 
A  representation  supposes  something  represented,  and  the  repre- 
sentation of  the  external  world  supposes  the  existence  of  that 
Avorld.  Now,  the  hy2:»othetical  realist,  when  asked  how  he  proves 
the  reality  of  the  outer  world,  which,  ex  hypothesis  he  does  not 
know,  can  only  say  that  he  infers  its  existence  from  the  flxct  of  its 
representation.  But  the  fact  of  the  representation  of  an  external 
world  supposes  the  existence  of  that  world ;  therefore,  he  is  again 
at  the  point  from  which  he  started.  He  has  been  arguing  in  a 
circle.  There  is  thus  a  see-saw  between  the  hypothesis  and  the 
fact;  the  fact  is  assumed  as  an  hypothesis;  the  hypothesis  ex- 
plained as  a  fact;  each  is  established,  each  is  expounded,  by  the 
other.  To  account  for  the  possibility  of  an  unknown  external 
world,  the  hypothesis  of  representation  is  devised ;  and  to  account 
for  the  possibility  of  representation,  we  imagine  the  hypothesis 
of  an  external  world. 


Lect.  XXVI.  METAPHYSICS.  365 

The  cosmothetic  idealist  thus  begs  the  fact  which  he  would 
explain.  And,  on  the  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception, 
it  is  admitted  by  the  philosophers  themselves  who  hold  it,  that  the 
■descent  to  absolute  idealism  is  a  logical  precipice,  from  which  they 
can  alone  attempt  to  save  themselves  by  appealing  to  the  natural 
beliefs,  —  to  the  common-sense  of  mankind,  that  is  to  the  testimony 
of  that  very  consciousness  to  which  their  own  hypothesis  gives 
the  lie. 

In  the  fourth  place,,  a  legitimate  hypothesis  must  save  the  phae- 
nomena  which  it  is  invented  to  ex|)lain,  that  is,* 

Fourfh,  — That   it       [^  niust  account  for  them  adequately  and  with- 

»ave  the    phaenoraena  .  i-  t   j.      j.-  i-ii-  T>i. 

'  ,        out   exclusion,   distortion,    or   mutilation.      i>ut 

which  it    IS    invented 

to  explain.  the  hypothesis   of  a  representative   perception 

proposes  to  accomplish  its  end  only  by  first 
destroying,  and  then  attempting  to  recreate,  the  phaenomcna,  for 
the  fact  of  which  it  should,  as  a  legitimate  hypothesis,  only  aflbrd 
a  reason.  The  total,  the  entire  pluRuomenon  to  be  explained,  is 
the  phtenomenon  given  in  consciousness  of  the  immediate  knowl- 
edge by  me,  or  mind,  of  an  existence  different  frdtu  nic,  or  mind. 

This  phajnomenon,  however,  the  hypothesis  in 

Tiie  hypothesis  in       question  docs  not  preserve  entire.     On  the  con- 
question  fumiers  and         ,  ..   ,  -^   •    ^     ^  •    ^     ^^       •  t    ^ 
,      ,                 trary,  it  Jiews  it  into  tAVo  ;  —  into  tlie  immediate 

subverts  the  plia;noni- 

«non  to  be  explained.       knowledge    by  me,   and    into   the   existence    of 

something  <litferent  from  me;  —  or  more  briefiv, 
into  the  intuition  and  the  existence.  It  separates,  in  its  explana- 
tion, what  is  given  it  to  explain  as  united.  This  procedure  is,  at 
best,  monstrous ;  but  this  is  not  the  worst.  The  entire  phaMiome- 
iion  being  cut  in  two,  vou  "will  obseiwe  how  tlie  framnents  are 
treated.  The  existence  of  the  non-ego,  —  the  one  fragment,  it 
admits;  its  intuition,  its  immediate  cognition  by  the  ego,  —  the 
other  fragment,  it  disallows.  Xow  mark  what  is  the  character  of 
this  proceeding.  The  former  fragment  of  the  pha^nomenon,  —  the 
fragment  admitted,  to  us  exists  only  through  the  otlier  fragment 
which  is  rejected.  The  ex  stence  of  an  external  world  is  only 
given  us  through  its  intuition,  —  M'e  only  believe  it  to  exist  because 
we  believe  that  we  immediately  know  it  to  exist,  or  are  conscious 
of  it  as  existing.  The  intuition  is  the  ratio  ror//)oscenJi\  and, 
therefore,  to  us  the  ratio  essemJi,  of  a  material  universe.  Prove 
to  me  that  I  am  wrong  in  reixard  to  inv  intuition  of  an  outer 
World,  ;mil  I  will  grant  at  once,  that  I  have  no  ground  for  sujipos- 
ing  I  am  right  in  regard  to  ilic  existence  of  that  world,  'i'o  ;miii- 
hilate  tlu'  intuition  is  to  annihilate  what  is  prior  and  constitutive 
in   the  jilucnomenon ;  and  to  annihilate  what  is  prior  :in<l  consti- 


I 


366  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXAT. 

tutive  in  the  phaenomenon,  is  to  annihilate  the  phaenomenon  alto- 
gether. The  existence  of  a  material  world  is  no  longer,  therefore^ 
even  a  truncated,  even  a  fractional,  foot  of  consciousness ;  for  the 
fact  of  the  existence  of  a  material  world,  given  in  consciousness, 
necessarily  vanished  with  the  fact  of  the  intuition  on  which  it 
rested.  The  absurdity  is  about  the  same  as  if  we  should  attempt 
to  explain  the  existence  of  color,  on  an  hypothesis  Avhich  denied 
the  existence  of  extension.  A  representative  perception  is  thus 
an  hyj^othetical  explanation  of  a  supj^osititious  fact ;  it  creates  the 
nature  it  interprets.^ 

In  the  fifth  place,  the  fact  which  a  legitimate  hypothesis  explains, 

must  be  within  the  sphere  of  exj^erience ;  but 

Fifth,-That  the  fact       the  fact  of  an   external  world,  for  which  the 

to     e  exp  aine      le       cosmothctic  idcalist  would  account,  transcends, 

within  the  sphere  of  .  . 

experience.  ^■**  hi/pot/iesi,  all  experience,  being  unknown  in 

itself,  and  a  mere  hyperphysical  assumption. 
In  the  sixth  place,  an  hypothesis  is  probable  in  projjortion  as  it 
Avorks  simply  and  naturally ;  that  is,  in  propor- 
IX  1,—    le  jpo  1-       tion  as  it  is  dependent  on  no  subsidiary  hvpothe- 

esis  must  be  single.  _  _ '  J      J  r 

sis,  —  as  it  involves  nothing  petitory,  occult, 
supernatural,  as  part  and  parcel  of  its  explanation.  In  this  respect, 
the  doctrine  of  a  representative  perception  is  not  less  vicious  than 
in  others;  to  explain  at  all,  it  must  not  only  postulate  subsidiary 
hypotheses,  but  subsidiary  miracles.  The  doctrine  in  question 
attempts  to  explain  the  knowledge  of  an  unknown  Avorld,  by  the 
ratio  of  a  representative  perception :  but  it  is  impossible  by  any 
conceivable  relation,  to  apply  the  ratio  to  the  facts.  The  mental 
modification,  of  which,  on  the  doctrine  of  representation,  we  are 
exclusively  conscious  in  perception,  either  represents  a  real  external 
world,  or  it  does  not.  The  Matter  is  a  confession  of  absolute  ideal- 
ism ;  we  have,  therefore*  Only  to  consider  the  former. 

The  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perception  supposes,  that  the 
mind  does  not  know  the  external  world,  which  it  represents ;    for 


1  [With  the  hypothetical  realist  or  cosmo-  the  problem  does  not  exist;  and  Mr.  Stewart 

thetic  idealist,  it  has  been  a  puzzling  problem  ai)pears  to  me  to  have  misunderstood    the 

to  resolve  how,  on  their  doctrine  of  a  repre-  conditions  of  his  own  doctrine,  or  rather  not 

sentative  perception,  the  mind  can  attain  the  to   have  formed  a  very  clear  conception  of 

notion  of  externality,  or  outness,  far  more  an  intuitive  perception,  when  he   endeavors 

be  impressed  with  the  invincible  belief  of  the  to  explain,  by  inference  and    hypothesis,  a 

reality,  and  known   reality,  of  an  external  knowledge  and  belief  in  the  outness  of  the 

world.    Their  attempts  at  this  solution,  are  objects   of  sense,  and  when  he  denies   the 

as  unsatisfactory  as  they  are  operose.     On  reality  of  our  sensations  at  the  points  where 

the  doctrine  of  an   intuitive  perception,  all  we  are  conscious  that  they  are  ]    [See  Stewart. 

this   is   given   in  the   fact   of  an   immediate  Phil.  Essays,  Works,  v.  lUl  et  seq. — Ed. J 
knowledge  of  the  non-ego.    To  us,  therefore, 


I 


Lect.  XXVI.  metaphysics.  36T 

this  hypothesis  is  expressly  devised  only  on  the  supposed  im]>os- 

sibility  of  an    immediate  knowledge    of  aught 

The  hypothesis  of       different  from,  and  external  to,  the  mind.     The 

Representation      de-       percipient   mind   must,  therefore,  be,  somehow- 
pendent    on    subsidi-  ,  ,  •       t  ,  ^,i  i-^^ 

ary  hypotheses.  ^r  Other,  detcrinincd  to  represent  the  reality  of 

which  it  is  ignorant.  Xow,  here  one  of  two 
alternatives  is  necessary;  —  either  the  mind  blindly  determines 
itself  to  this  representation,  or  it  is  determined  to  it  by  some  intelli- 
gent and  knowing  cause,  different  from  itself  The  former  alterna- 
tive would  be  preferable,  inasmuch  as  it  is  the  more  simple,  and 
assumes  nothing  hyperphysical,  were  it  not  irrational,  as  wJKjlly 
incompetent  to  account  for  the  plnenomenon.  On  this  alternative,, 
we  should  suppose,  that  the  mind  represented,  and  truly  repre- 
sented, that  of  whose  existence  and  qualities  it  knew  nothing.  A 
great  effect  is  here  assumed,  absolutely  without  a  cause;  for  we 
could  as  easily  conceive  the  external  world  springing  into  existence 
without  a  creator,  as  mind  representing  that  external  world  to  itself,, 
without  a  knowledge  of  that  which  it  represented.  The  manifest 
absurdity  of  this  first  alternative  has  accordingly  constrained  the 
profoundest  cosmothetic  idealists  to  call  in  supernatural  aid  by 
embracing  the  second.  To  say  nothing  of  less  illustrious  schemes, 
the  systems  of  Divine  Assistance,  of  a  Preestablished  Harmony, 
and  of  the  Vision  of  all  things  in  the  Deity,  are  only  so  many  sub- 
sidiary hypotheses;  —  so  many  attempts  to  bridge,  by  supernatural 
machinery,  the  chasm  between  the  representation  and  the  reality, 
which  all  human  ingenuity  had  found,  by  natural  means,  to  be  insu- 
perable. The  hypothesis  of  a  representative  perce])tion  thus  ]>re- 
supposes  a  miracle  to  let  it  work.  Dr.  Brown  and  others,  indeed, 
reject,  as  unj)hilosophical,  these  hyperphysical  subsidiaries ;  but 
they  only  saw  less  clearly  the  necessity  for  their  admission.  The 
rejection,  indeed,  is  another  inconsequence  a<lded  to  their  doctrine. 
It  is  undoubtedly  true  that,  without  necessity,  it  is  unphilosoi»hical 
to  assume  a  miiaclc,  but  it  is  doubly  unj)hilosoi)hical  first  to  origi- 
nate this  necessity,  and  then  not  to  submit  to  it.  It  is  a  contemptible 
philosophy  that  eschews  the  Dens  ex  macJuna^  and  yet  ties  the 
knot  which  can  only  be  loosed  by  his  interposition.  Xor  will  it 
here  do  for  the  cosmothetic  idealist  to  pretend  that  the  dithculty  is 
of  nature's,  not  of  his,  creation.  In  fact,  it  only  arises,  l)ecause  he 
has  closed  his  eyes  upon  the  light  of  nature,  and  refused  the  guid- 
ance of  consciousness:  but  having  swamped  himself  in  following 
the  ignis  fatuus  of  a  theory,  he  has  no  right  to  refer  its  ])rivate 
absurdities  to  the  imbecility  of  human  reason,  or  to  excuse  his 


368  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXYI. 

self-contracted  ignorance  by  the  narrow  limits  of  our  present  knowl- 
edge.' 

So  much  for  the  merits  of  the  hypothesis  of  a  Representative 
Perception,  —  an  hypothesis  which  begins  by  denying  the  veracity 
of  consciousness,  and  ends,  when  carried  to  its  legitimate  issue,  in 
absolute  idealism,  in  utter  skepticism.  This  hypothesis  has  been, 
and  is,  one  more  universally  prevalent  among  philosophers  than  any 
other ;  and  I  have  given  to  its  consideration  a  larger  share  of  atten- 
tion than  I  should  otherwise  have  done,  in  consequence  of  its  being 
one  great  source  of  the  dissensions  in  philosophy,  and  of  the  oppro- 
brium thrown  on  consciousness  as  the  instrument  of  philosophical 
•observation,  and  the  standard  of  philosophical  certainty  and  truth. 

With  this  terminates  the  most  important  of  the  discussions  to 

which  the  Faculty  of  Perception  gives  rise :  the 

Other  questions  con-       other  questions  are  not,  however,  without  inter- 

necte(   wit i  tie    ac-       est,  though  their  determination  does  not  affect 

ultv  of  External  Per-  .  . 

<.eptjf,n  the  vital  interests  of  philosophy.     Of  these  the 

1.  Whether  we  first       first  that  I  shall  touch  upon,  is  the  problem ;  — 

obtain  a  knowledge       Whether,   in   Perception,  do  we  first  obtain  a 

of  the   whole,   or  of  ,    ,  ,     -,  _     , 

the  parts,  of  the  ob-       general  knowledge  of  the  complex  wholes  pre- 
ject  iu  Perception.  scntcd  to  US  by  scnsc,  and  then,  by  analysis  and 

limited  attention,  obtain  a  special  knowledge  of 
their  several  parts ;  or  do  we  not  first  obtain  a  particular  knowledge 
of  the  smallest  parts  to  which  sense  is  competent,  and  then,  by 
synthesis,  collect  them  into  greater  and  greater  wholes? 

The  second  alternative  in  this  question  is  adopted  by  Mr.  Stewart ; 

it  is,  indeed,  involved  in  his  doctrine  in  regard 

Second    alternative       ^^   Attention,  —  in   holding   that   we   recollect 

adopted  by  Mr.  Stew-  i  •  •   i  •  i  -i 

nothmg  without  attention,  that  we  can  attend 
only  to  a  single  object  at  once,  which  one  object 
is  the  very  smallest  that  is  discernible  through  sense.     "It  is  com- 
monly," he  says,  "  understood,  I  believe,  that,  in 

Stewart  quoted.  n  •  i  t  i 

a  concert  ot  music,  a  good  ear  can  attend  to  the 
different  parts  of  the  music  separately,  or  can  attend  to  them  all  at 
once,  and  feel  the  full  effect  of  the  harmony.  If  the  doctrine,  how- 
ever, which  I  have  endeavored  to  establish,  be  admitted,  it  will 
follow,  that  in  the  latter  case  the  mind  is  constantly  varying  its 
attention  from  the  one  part  of  the  music  to  the  other,  and  that  its 
operations  are  so  rapid,  as  to  give  us  no  perception  of  an  interval 
of  time.  * 

1  See  Discussions,  pp.  67,  68.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XXVL  metaphysics.  369 

"  The  same  doctrine  leads  to  some  curious  conclusions  with 
respect  to  vision.  Suppose  the  eye  to  be  fixed  in  a  particular  posi- 
tion, and  the  picture  of  an  object  to  be  painted  on  the  retina.  Does 
the  mind  perceive  the  complete  figure  of  the  object  at  once,  or  is 
this  perception  the  result  of  the  various  perceptions  we  have  of  the 
•different  points  in  the  outline?  With  respect  to  this  question,  the 
principles  already  stated  lead  me  to  conclude,  that  the  mind  docs  at 
one  and  the  same  time  perceive  every  point  in  the  outline  of  the 
object  (provided  the  whole  of  it  be  painted  on  the  retina  at  the 
jsame  instant)  ;  for  perception,  like  consciousness,  is  an  involuntary 
operation.  As  no  two  points,  however,  of  the  outline  are  in  the 
same  direction,  every  point  .by  itself  constitutes  just  as  distinct  an 
object  of  attention  to  the  mind,  as  if  it  were  separated  by  an  inter- 
val of  empty  sjiace  from  all  the  rest.  If  the  doctrine,  therefore, 
formerly  stated  be  just,  it  is  imj)ossible  for  the  mind  to  attend  to 
more  than  one  of  these  points  at  once  ;  and  as  the  perception  of 
the  figure  of  the  object  implies  a  knowledge  of  the  relative  situa- 
tion of  the  difterent  points  with  respect  to  each  other,  Ave  must 
conclude,  that  the  perception  of  figure  by  the  eye,  is  the  result  of  a 
number  of  different  acts  of  attention.  These  acts  of  attention, 
however,  are  performed  with  S)ich  ra)>idity,  that  the  effect  with 
resj)ect  to  us,  is  the  same  as  if  the  percei»tion  were  instantaneous. 

"  It  may  perhaps  be  asked,  Avhat  I  mean  by  a  point  in  the  outline 
of  a  figure,  and  what  it  is  that  constitutes  this  point  0)ic  object  of 
nttention.  The  answer,  I  apprehend,  is,  that  this  point  is  the 
minimum  visibile.  If  the  point  be  less,  we  cannot  perceive  it ;  if  it 
be  greater,  it  is  not  all  seen  in  one  direction. 

"  If  these  observations  be  admitted,  it  will  follow,  that,  without 
the  fiiculty  of  memory,  we  could  have  had  no  perception  of  visible 
figure."  ^ 

The  same  conclusion  is  attained,  through  a  somewhat  different 
process,  by   Mr.  James  Mill,   in    his    ingenious 

The  same  view  mnin-  ji./iit-»j  ^f        V»- 

-J     ,  ,     ,        „.,,        Anaii/sis  of   the   i^n<xno7nena   of   the  Ihiman 

taiued  by  James  Mill.  •'  •'  •' 

Mind.  This  author,  following  Hartley  and 
Priestley,  has  pushed  the  jirinciple  of  Association  to  an  extreme 
which  refutt's  its  own  exagger;ition,  —  analzying  not  only  our  belief 
in  the  relation  of  effect  and  cause  into  that  principle,  but  even  the 
primary  logical  laws.  According  to  Mr.  Mill,  the  necessity  under 
which  we  lie  of  thinking  that  one  contradictory  excludes  another, — 
that  a  thing  cannot  at  once  be  and  not  be,  is  only  the  result  of  asso. 

IXemenU  of  tht  PhiiosapKt/  of  th".  Human  AUnrt,  vol,  i.  c.  ii.      Works,  vol.  U.  p.  141—143. 

47 


370  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXVI 

ciation  and  custom.  ^  It  is  not,  therefore,  to  be  marvelled  at,  that 
he  should  account  for  our  knowledge  of  complex  wholes  in  pei'cep- 
tion,  by  the  same  universal  principle;  and  this  he  accordingly  does.* 

"  Where  two  or  more  ideas  have  been  often  re- 
peated together,  and  the  association  has  become 
very  strong,  they  sometimes  spring  up  in  such  close  combination  as. 
not  to  be  distinguishable.  Some  cases  of  sensation  are  analogous. 
For  example  ;  when  a  wheel,  on  the  seven  parts  of  which  the  seven 
prismatic  colors  are  respectively  painted,  is  made  to  i-evolve  rap- 
idly, it  appears  not  of  seven  colors,  but  of  one  uniform  color,  white 
By  the  rapidity  of  the  succession,  the  several  sensations  cease 
to  be  distinguishable ;  they  run,  as  it  were,  together,  and  a  new 
sensation,  compounded  ot  all  the  seven,  but  apparently  a  simple 
one,  is  the  result.  Ideas,  also,  which  have  been  so  often  conjoined, 
that  whenever  one  exists  in  the  mind,  tlie  others  immediately  exist 
along  with  it,  seem  to  run  into  one  another,  to  coalesce,  as  it  were> 
and  out  of  many  to  form  one  idea ;  Avhich  idea,  however  in  reality 
complex,  appears  to  be  no  less  simple  than  any  one  of  those  of 

which  it  is  compounded." 

*****  *  * 

^  "  It  is  to  this  great  law  of  association  that  we  trace  the  forma- 
tion of  our  ideas  of  what  we  call  external  objects  ;  that  is,  the  ideas- 
of  a  certain  number  of  sensations,  received  together  so  frequently 
that  they  coalesce  as  it  were,  and  are  spoken  of  under  the  idea  of 
unity.  Hence,  what  we  call  the  idea  of  a  tree,  the  idea  of  a  stone, 
the  idea  of  a  horse,  the  idea  of  a  man. 

"  In  using  the  names,  tree,  horse,  man,  the  names  of  what  I  call 
objects,  I  am  referring,  and  can  be  referring,  only  to  my  own  sensa- 
tions ;  in  fact,  therefore,  only  naming  a  certain  number  of  sensations, 
regarded  as  in  a  particular  state  of  combination;  that  is,  concomi- 
tance. Particular  sensations  of  sight,  of  touch,  of  the  muscles,  are 
the  sensations,  to  the  ideas  of  which,  color,  extension,  roughness, 
hardness,  smoothness,  taste,  smell,  so  coalescing  as  to  appear  one 

idea,  I  give  the  name,  idea  of  a  tree. 

*  ****** 

"  Some  ideas  are  by  frequency  and  strength  of  association  so 
closely  combined,  that  they  cannot  be  separated.  If  one  exists,  the 
other  exists  along  with  it,  in  spite  of  whatever  effoi't  we  make  to 
disjoin  them. 

"  For  example ;  it  is  not  in  our  power  to  think  of  color,  without 
thinking  of  extension  ;.   or  of  solidity,  without  figure.     We   have 

»  Chap.  iii.  p.  75.  —  Ed.  2  Chap.  iii.  p.  68.  —  Ed.  3  Chap.  iii.  p.  70.  —En 


Lect.  XXVI.  METAPHYSICS.  371 

seen  color  constantly  in  combination  with  extension,  —  spread,  as  it 
were,  upon  a  surtiice.  We  have  never  seen  it  except  in  this  con- 
nection. Color  and  extension  have  been  invariably  conjoined.  The 
idea  of  color,  therefore,  unitornily  comes  into  the  mind,  briiii^ino- 
that  of  extension  along  with  it ;  and  so  close  is  the  association,  that 
it  is  not  in  our  power  to  dissolve  it.  We  cannot,  if  we  will,  think 
of  color,  but  in  combination  with  extension.  The  one  idea  calls  up 
the  other,  and  retains  it,  so  long  as  the  other  is  retained. 

"  This  great  law  of  our  nature  is  illustrated  in  a  manner  equally 
eti-iking,  by  the  connection  between  the  ideas  of  solidity  and  ligure. 
We  never  have  the  sensations  from  which  the  idea  of  solidity  is 
derived,  but  in  conjunction  with  the  sensations  whence  the  idea  of 
figure  is  derived.  If  we  handle  anvthing  solid,  it  is  alwavs  either 
round,  scpiare,  or  of  some  other  form.  The  ideas  correspond  with  the 
sensations.  If  the  idea  of  solidity  rises,  that  of  figure  rises  along 
with  it.  The  idea  of  figure  which  rises,  is,  of  course,  more  obscure 
than  that  of  extension ;  because  figures  being  innumerable,  the 
general  idea  is  exceedingly  complex,  and  hence,  of  necessity,  obscure. 
But,  such  as  it  is,  the  idea  of  figure  is  always  present  when  that  of 
solidity  is  present ;  nor  can  we,  by  any  effort,  think  of  the  one  with- 
out thinking  of  the  other  at  the  same  time." 

Now,  in  o2)position  to  this  doctrine,  nothing  appears  to  me  clearer 
than  the  first  alternative,  —  and  that,  in  place 

Tlie    counter    alter-        '   e  ^•  t     ^  ^^  •    •  ,^ 

.     .     ,       of  ascending  upAvards  from  the  minimum  of  ))er- 

native         maintained  ... 

against  Stewart  and       ccptiou  to  its  maxima,  wc  dcsceud  from  masses 

iiiii.  to  details.     If  the  op])osite  doctrine  were  cor- 

The  doctrine  of  these       rect,  what  woidd  it  iuvolve  ?     It  would  involve 

pliilosoplicT.s    inijjlies,  .  .     „ 

that  we  know  the  parts  ^^  ^  primary  inference, 'that,  as  we  know  the 
better  tiian  tiie  whole.       wliolc  through  tlic  jiarts,  WC  should  kuow   the 

])arts  better  than  the  whole.  Thus,  for  examjde, 
it  is  suj)posed  that  we  know  the  face  of  a  friend,  through  the  multi- 
tude of  perceptions  which  Ave  have  of  the  different  points  of  which 
it  is  made  uj) ;  in  other  Avords,  that  Ave  should  know  the  whole  coun- 
tenance less  vividly  than  Ave  know  the  forehead  and  eyes,  the  nose 
and  mouth,  etc.,  and  that  we  should  knoAv  each  of  these  more  feebly 
than  Ave  know  the  various  ultimate  ])oints,  in  fict,  utu-onscious 
minima,  of  ))erceptions,  Avhich  go  to  constitute  them.  According 
to  the  doctrine  in  question,  Ave  ])erceiA-e  only  one  of  these  ultimate 
points  at  the  same  instant,  the  others  by  memory  incessantly 
rencAved.  Noav  let  us  take  the  face  out  of  perception  into  nu^nory 
altogether.  Let  us  close  our  eyes,  and  ht  us  represent  in  imagina- 
tion the  countenance  of  our  friend.  This  we  can  do  Avith  the 
utmost  vivacity ;  or,  if  avc  see   a  jiicture  of  it,  avc  can   iletermine. 


S72  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXVJ 

•with  a  consciousness  of  the  most  perfect  accuracy,  that  the  portrait 
is  like  or  unlike.  It  cannot,  therefore,  be  denied  that  we  have  the 
fullest  knowledge  of  the  face  as  a. whole,  —  that  we  are  familiar  with 
its  expression,  with  the  general  result  of  its  parts.  On  the 
hypothesis,  then,  of  Stewart  and  Mill,  how  accurate  should  be  our 
knowledge  of  these  parts  themselves.    But  make  the  experiment. 

You  will  find  that,  unless  you  have  analyzed,  — 
This    supposition       unless  you  have  descended  from  a  conspectus 

of  the  whole  face  to  a  detailed  examination  of 

oua. 

its  parts,  —  with  the  most  vivid  impression  of 
the  constituted  whole,  you  are  almost  totally  ignorant  of  the  con- 
stituent parts.  You  may  probably  be  unable  to  say  what  is  the 
color  of  the  eyes,  and  if  you  attempt  to  delineate  the  mouth  or  nose, 
you  will  inevitably  fail.  Or  look  at  the  portrait.  You  may  find  it 
unlike,  but  unless,  as  I  said,  you  have  analyzed  the  countenance, 
unless  you  have  looked  at  it  with  the  analytic  scrutiny  of  a  paint- 
er's eye,  you  will  assuredly  be  unable  to  say  in  what  respect  the 
artist  has  failed,  —  you  will  be  unable  to  specify  what  constituent 
he  has  altered,  though  you  are  fully  conscious  of  the  fact  and  effect 
of  the  alteration.  What  we  have  shown  from  this  example  may 
equally  be  done  from  any  other,  —  a  house,  a  tree,  a  landscape,  a 
concert  of  music,  etc.  But  it  is  needless  to  multiply  illustrations. 
In  fact,  on  the  doctrine  of  these  philosophers,  if  the  mind,  as  they 
maintain,  were  unable  to  comprehend  more  than  one  perceptible 
minimum  at  a  time,  the  greatest  of  all  inconceivable  marvels  would 
be,  how  it  has  contrived  to  realize  the  knowledge  of  wholes  and 
masses  which  it  has.  Another  refutation  of  this  opinion  might  be 
drawn  from  the  doctrine  of  latent  modifications,  —  the  obscure  per- 
ceptions of  Leibnitz,  —  of  which  we  have  recently  treated.  But  this 
argument  I  think  unnecessary.  ^ 

1  Show  this  also,  1",  By  the  millions  of  acts  of  the  Eye,  §  iii.  p.  574,  edit.  1807.  —Ed.]    2°, 

of  attention  requisite  in  each  of  our  percep-  By  imperfection  of  Touch,which  is  a  syntlietic 

tious.  [Cf  Tir.T.Yonug'i  Lectures  on  Natu-  sense,  as  Sight  is  analytic.  —  Marginoi /oJJinff. 
rai  PKUosophy,  vol.  ii.  Ess.  v.     The  Mechanism 


LECTURE     XXVII. 

THE   PRESENTATIVE   FACULTY. 

I.       PERCEPTION. GENERAL    QUESTIONS    IN    RELATION    TO    THE    SENSB8. 

In  my  last  Lecture,  I  was  principally  occupied  in  showing  that  the 
hypothesis  of  a  Representative  Perception  consid- 

Recapitulation.  ,..,^         ,  „  ,  V,  ,., 

ered  in  itselt,  and  apart  irom  the  grounds  on  which 
philosophers  have  deemed  themselves  authorized  to  reject  the  fact  of 
consciousness,  which  testifies  to  our  immediate  perception  of  external 
things,  violates,  in  many  various  ways,  the  laws  of  a  legitimate  hy^ 
pothesis ;  and  having,  in  the  previous  Lecture,  shown  you  that  the 
grounds  on  which  the  possibility  of  an  intuitive  cognition  of  external 
objects  had  been  superseded,  are  hollow,  I  thus,  if  my  reasoning  be 
not  erroneous,  was  warranted  in  establishing  the  conclusion  that  there 
is  nothing  against,  but  everything  in  favor  of,  the  truth  of  conscious- 
ness, and  the  doctrine  of  immediate  perception.  At  the  conclusion 
of  the  Let^ture,  I  endeavored  to  prove,  in  opposition  to  Mr.  Stewart 
and  Mr.  Mill,  that  we  are  not  percipient,  at  the  same  instant,  only  of 
certain  minima,  our  cognitions  of  wlTu  li  are  afterwards,  by  memory 
or  association,  accumulated  into  masses  ;  but  that  we  are  at  once  and 
primarily  perciinent  of  masses,  and  only  require  analysis  to  obtain  a 
minute  and  more  accurate  knowledge  of  their  parts,  —  that,  in  short, 
we  can,  within  certain  limits,  make  a  single  object  out  of  many. 
For  example,  we  can  extend  our  attentive  perception  to  a  house,  and 
to  it  as  only  one  ol»ject ;  or  we  can  contemplate  its  parts,  and  con- 
sider each  of  these  as  separate  objects.' 

Resuming  consideration  of  the  more  important  psychological  ques- 
tions that  have  been  agitated  concerning  the  Senses,  I  proceed  to 
take  up  those  connected  with  the  sense  of  Touch, 

1  Sir  W.  Ilamilton  here  occanionaDy  intro-  senses.    A.*  the  Lecture  devoted  to  this  sub- 

duccd  uii  account  of  the  inechiinisin  of  tlie  jeot  mninly  consists  of  a  series  of  e.xtracfu 

organs    of  .Sense;    observing    the    folldwinj;  from    Young    and    liostock,    and    is    purely 

order.  —  Siglit,    Hearing,  Taste,  Smell,   and  physiological,  it  is  here  omitted.    SeeYoung'a 

Touch.    This,  he   remarks,  is  the  reverse  of  Ltcturei  on  Natural  Phitofophy,  vol.  i.  pp.  .38", 

the  order  of  nature,  and  is  adopted  by  him  44'  et  fft/  ;  vol    ii.  p.  574.  (4to  edit.)  Rostock's 

hecaust>  under  Toiieh  certain  iiucstions  arise,  Phyfinlosy,  pp.  692  tt  «'/.,  723,  729 — 733.  (Sd 

tlie  discussion  of  which  requires  some  pre-  edit.)— Eu. 
liminary   knowledge    of  the    nature  of  tlie 


374  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXVH 

The  problems  whicli  arise  under  this  sense,  may  be  reduced  to  two 

opposite  questions.      The  first  asks,  May  not  all 

sen^^of'rouch.^""'^^'^       ^^^^  Senses  be  analyzed  into  Touch  ?     The  second 

asks,  Is  not  Touch  or  Feeling,  considered  as  one 
of  the  five  senses,  itself  only  a  bundle  of  various  sense  ? 

In  regard  to  the  first  of  these  questions, —  it  is  an  opinion  as  old 

at  least  as  Deraocritus,  and  one  held  by  many  of 

1.      ay  a   *  ^   «n-       the  ancient  physiologists,  that  the  four  senses  of 

ges  be  analyzed   into         o-    i  .  , 

Touch?  Democritus.  Sight,  Hearing, Tastc,  aiid  Smell,  are  only  modifi- 
Aristotie.  cations  of  Touch.    This  opinion  Aristotle  records 

in  the  fourth  chapter  of  his  book  On  Sense  and 
the  Object  of  Sense  {De  Sensic  et  Sensili),  and  contents  himself  with 

refuting  it  by  the  assertion  that  its  impossibility 

In  what  sense  the  af-         .  ...  ci      /•       i  e-  t     • 

«»    .•     „^  .„„*  IS  raamtest.     bo  lar,  however,  irom  bemsr  mam- 

nrmative  correct.  "  '  » 

festly  impossible,  and,  therefore,  manifestly  ab- 
surd, it  can  now  easily  be  shown  to  be  correct,  if  by  touch  is  un- 
derstood the  contact  of  the  external  object  of  perception  with  the 
organ  of  sense.     The  opinion  of  Democritus  was  revived,  in  modern 

times,  by  Telesius,^  an  Italian  philosopher  of  the 

sixteenth  century,  and  who  preceded  Bacon  and 
Descartes,  as  a  reformer  of  philosophical  methods.  I  say  the  opinion 
of  Democritus  can  easily  be  shown  to  be  correct ;  for  it  is  only  a  con< 

fusion  of  ideas,  or  of  words,  or  of  both  together, 

PerceD^[on*'^ "  ^^'^  °        ^*^  ^^^^  of  the  perception  of  a  distant  object,  that 

is,  of  an  object  not  in  relation  to  our  senses.  An 
external  object  is  only  perceived  inasmuch  as  it  is  in  relation  to  oiar 
sense,  and  it  is  only  in  relation  to  our  sense  inasmuch  as  it  is  present 
to  it.  To  say,  for  example,  that  we  perceive  by  sight  the  sun  or  moon, 
is  a  false  or  an  ellij^tical  expression.  We  perceive  nothing  but  certain 
modifications  of  light  in  ininiediate  rehition  to  our  organ  of  vision; 
and  so  far  froniDr.Reid  being  philosophically  correct,  when  he  says  that 
"  when  ten  men  look  at  the  sun  or  moon,  they  all  see  the  same  indi- 
vidual object,"  the  truth  is  that  each  of  these  persons  sees  a  different 
object,  because  each  person  sees  a  diftercnt  complement  of  rays,  in 
relation  to  his  individual  organ,^     In  fact,  if  we  look  alternately  with 

1  [De  R'rurn  yatura,  lib.  vii.  c.  viii.]    From  percipiuntur,  quod   eorum  actio   et  vis  sub- 

this  reduction Telesius  excepts  Hearing.   With  stantia<iue  spiritum  contingit,  sed  magis  qua 

regard  to  the  senses   of  Taste,  Smell,  and  in  lingua,  et  multo  etiam   magis  quas    pe» 

Sight,  he  says:  —  "Noq  recte  iidem  ....  iiares,  et  quae  in  oculis  percipiuntur."  —  Loe 

gustum  olfactumque  et  visum  a  tactu  diver-  cit.  —  ED. 
sum  posuere,  qui  non  tactus  mode  sunt  om- 

nes.  sed  multo  etiam  quam  qui  tactus  dicitur  2  On  this  point,  see  Adam  Smith,  Essays  on 

exquisitiores.      Non    scilicet    ea    modo,   quae  Philosophical  Subjects  —  Ancient  Logics  and  Met- 

nniverso    in    corpore    percipiuntur,    et    qua:  aphysics,  p.  15.3.     Cf.  Of  the  External  Senses,  p 

•ctilia  (ut  dictum  est)  dicuntur,  propterea  289,  (edit.  1800.)  — Ed. 


•II 


Lkct    XXVII.  METAPHYSICS.  375 

eacli,  we  li;ive  :i  diftercnt  object  in  our  right,  and  a  cliflferem  object  in 
our  left,  eye.  It  is  not  by  perception,  but  by  a  process  of  reasoning, 
that  we  connect  the  objects  of  sense  with  existences  beyon(]  the  sphere 
of  immediate  knowledge.  It  is  enough  that  perception  affords  us  the 
knowledge  of  the  non-ego  at  the  point  of  sense.  To  arrogate  to  it  the 
power  of  immediately  informing  us  of  external  things,  which  are  only 
the  causes  of  the  object  we  immediately  perceive,  is  either  positively 
erroneous,  or  a  confusion  of  language,  arising  from  an  inadequate  dis- 
crimination of  the  phenomena.  Such  assumptions  tend  only  to  throw 
discredit  on  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  perception  ;  and  such  assump- 
tions you  will  find  scattered  over  the  works  both  of  Reid  and  Stewart. 
I  would,  therefore,  establish  as  a  fundamental  position  of  the  doctrine 
of  an  immediate  percej)tiou,  the  ojjinion  of  Democritus,  that  all  our 
;<enses  are  only  modifications  of  touch  ;  in  other  words,  that  the  exter- 
nal object  of  perception  is  always  in  contact  with  the  organ  of  sense. 
This  determination  of  the  first  problem  does  not  interfere  with  the 
consideration  of  the  second ;  for,  in  the  second,  it  is 
2.  Does  Touch  com-       ^.    ^^^^^:^   Whether,  considerinjr  Touch  or  Feel- 

preheiul  a  ijiunihty  of         . 

genges?  mg  as  a  special  sense,  there  are  not  comprehended 

under   it  varieties  of  perception  and  sensation  so 

dittereut,  that  these  varieties  ought  to  be  viewed  as  constituting  so 

many  special  senses.    This  question,  I  think,  ought 

Affirmative  main-  ,  i     •        i  /».  •  />  i  %    x 

^  .    ,  to  be  answered  in  the  arnrmative :  tor,  thou<;li  1 

hold  that  the  other  senses  are  not  to  be  discrim- 
inated from  Touch,  in  so  far  as  Touch  signifies  merely  the  contact  of 
the  organ  and  tVie  object  of  perception,  yet,  considering  Touch  as  a 
special  sense  distinguished  from  the  other  four  by  other  and  peculiar 
•characters,  it  may  easily,  I  tiiink,  be  shown,  that  if  Sight  and  Hear- 
ing, if  Smell  and  Taste,  are  to  be  divided  from  each  other  and  from 
Touch  Pro])er,  under  Touch  there  must,  on  the  same  analogy,  be 
distinguished  a  plurality  of  special  senses.  This  problem,  like  the 
other,  is  of  ancient  date.     It  is  mooted  ]iy  Aristotle  in  the  eleventh 

chapter  of  the  second  book  De  Animay  but  his 

Historical  notices  of       opinion  is  left  doubtful.     Tlis  followers  were  con- 

this  problem.  sequcutlv  left  doubtful  upou  the  point.'     Among 

Aristotle.  ,  .         ,       ',      •  L,  .      .       .,        ,  , 

Greek  commentators.       '"=^  <^^'"^'^^   interpreters,    lliemistius-   adopts  the 
opinion,  that  there  is  a  plurality  of  senses  under 

1  See  Coniinbricenses,  In  An'it.  de  Aninia,  off'air  ko!  /Sopt'tDS,  Kai  rwv  ^fTo^tr  kcu  rrji' 
\nb.  11.  c   XI.  ji.  32Ci.  —  Ld.  -yfCtTiv   niKpov  Koi  yKvKfo^-   ^f  5f  to^s,  air- 

2  In  De  Anima,\ih  ii.  c.  xi.  fol.  82a,  (edit.  to?s,  iro\Aai  flatv  (vavriwfffts  xal  iraacu 
Aid.,  1534.)  OuK  fffTi  ula  ata^a-ts  rj  a<pri-  f/xfifijot,  ^€(T({t7Jtos  Kod'  iK6.rm}v  o'iKfidt 
fTTjufjoi/  &y  Ti$  vofii^ot,  rh  |J.^]  juiar  ivavriw-  ^(aipovufvr}^-  olov  dfpuhi',  \iivxp6v  ^riphv, 
<r«a>J  ....  KpniKi^i',  Tavrr^u  rhf  afirdrj-  I'ryp^i/-  (TK\-npbv,  ^oAofJv  jSopi'  Kovpov 
■vtv    SxriTfp   t))i'  v\piv  \fVKov   Koi   fifKovos  \f7ov,  Taxv.     Cf.  Aristotle,  texts  IW,  107.  ^ 


I 


cenna. 


876  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXVIL 

touch.  Alexander  ^  favors,  but  not  decidedly,  the  opposite  opinion, 
which  was  espoused  by  Simplicius^  and  Philoponus.^  The  doctrine 
of  Themistius  was,  however,  under  various  modifications,  adopted  by 

Averroes  and  Avicenna  among  the  Arabian,  and 

Arabian  and  Latin         i         *        ,!•         •        »  n  -ht  -n    ■ -,•  -r 

Schoolmen.  "X  Apolluians,  Albcrtus  Magnus,  yEgidius,  Jan- 

dunus,   Marcellus,  and  many  others  among  the 

Latin,  schoolmen.*     These,  however,  and  succeeding   philosophers,. 

were  not  at  one  in  regard  to  the  number  of  the  senses,.  Avhich  they 

would   distinguish.     Themistius'  and  Avicenna**' 

Themistius  and  A  vi-  hi  i  -,-,,. 

allowed  as  many  senses  as  there  were  different 
qualities  of  tactile  feeling  ;  ■  but  the  number  of 
these  they  did  not  specify.  Avicenna,  however,  appears  to  have  dis- 
tinguished as  one  sense  the  feeling  of  pain  from  the  lesion  of  a 
wound,  and  as  another,  the  feeling  of  titillation.^     Others,  as  ^gidi- 

us,^  gave  two  senses,  one  for  the  hot  and  cold,  an- 
,  ^'  '"*■  other  for  the  dry  and  moist.     Averroes^  secerns  a 

Averroes.  _   .         _  •' 

Qgjgjj  sense  of  titillation  and  a  sense  of  hunger  and  thirst. 

Cardan.  Galen^"  also,  I  should  observe,  allowed  a  sense  of 

heat  and  cold.  Among  modern  ])hilosophers, 
Cardan"  distinguishes  four  senses  of  touch  or  feelins: :  one  of  the  four 
primary  tactile  qualities  of  Aristotle  (that  is,  of  cold  and  hot,  and  wet 
and  dry)  ;  a  second,  of  the  light  and  heavy  ;  a  third,  of  pleasure  and 
pain;  and  a  fourth,  of  titillation.  His  antagonist,  the  elder  Scaliger,'* 
distinguished  as  a  sixth  special  sense  the  sexual  appetite,  in  which  he 

has  been  followed  by  Bacon^'  Voltaire"  and  others, 
aeon,    u  on,  From  these  historical  notices  you  will  see  how 

Voltaire,  Locke. 

marvellously  incorrect  is  the  statement'^  that 
Locke  was  the  first  philosopher  who  originated  this  question,  in  al- 

1  Problemata,  ii.  62  (probably  spurious. —  ''  See  Conimbricenses,  In  De  Anima,  lib.  ii^ 
Ed.  c.  xi.  p.  327.  —  Ed. 

2  In  De  ^niwa,  lib.  ii.  c.  xi.  text  106,  fol.  ,„  ,t    . ,      ,.  «    .  ,,  ... 
A.  t.,  j-^    .11    iro->        T-                                               ^"  [Leidenfrost,  De  Mente  Humana,  c.  II.  ^  i, 
44a*  (edit.  Aid.  152()- —  Ed.                                            J-                     '                                 >  j    . 

3  In  De  Anima,  lib.  ii.  c.  xi.  texts  106,  107.       ^' 

—  Ed.  11  De  Subtilitate,  \ih.  xiii.     See  Reid's  Works,. 

4  See  Conimbricenses,  In  De  Anima,  lib.  ii.       p.  867.  —  Ed. 
C.  xi.  p.  326. —  Ed. 

i  See  preceding  page,  note  2, and  Conimbri- 
eenses.  as  above,  p.  327.  —  Ed.  13  [Sylvn  Sylvarum,  cent.  vii.   693.      Works, 

6  See  Conimbricenses,  as  above,  p.  327.—      edit.  Montagu,  iv.  361.] 
Ed. 

7  ggg  ,j,-^  _  £jj  14  See  Reid^s  Works,  p.  124 ;  and  Poor,  Theo- 

8  See  ibid.  [Cf.  De  Raei,  Oavis  Philosoph.rr.  "«  Sensuum,  pars  i.  §  34.  p.  38.  Voltaire, 
Naturalis,  De  Mentis  Humanm  FacuUatibus,  ^  ^'"-  P'^'^osophi.jue,  art.  SensaHon,  reduces  thi» 
76,  p.  366.  D'Alembert,  Melanges,  t.  v.  p.  115.  '*"''"*  *"  ''"'^  °*"  'r^"*'''-  *'^-  ^'"'"^  '^'  ^^"'" 
Cf.  Scaliger,  De  Subtilitate,  Ex.  cix.,  where  P^^^'^''^  «»>•  '^-  ^"^"^^^  Completes,  torn,  vi 
he  observes  that,  in  paralysis,  heat  is  felt,  P"  ^^l  (edit.  1817). -Ed. 

after  the  power  of  apprehending  gravity  is  15  See  Lectures  on  Intellectual  Philosophy,  bf 

gone.]  John  Young,  LL.  D  ,  p.  80. 


12  De  Subtilitate,  Ex.  cclxxxvl.  §  3.  — Ed. 


Lect.  xxvii.  metaphysics.  377 

lowing  hunger  and  thirst  to  be  the  sensations  of  a  sense  different  from 

tactile  feeling.  Ilutcheson,  in  his  work  on  the 
Passions^  says,  "  the  division  of  our  external 
senses  into  five  common  classes  is  ridiculously  imperfect.  Some  sen- 
sations, such  as  hunger  and  thirst,  weariness  and  sickness,  can  be  re 
duced  to  none  of  them  ;  or  if  they  are  reduced  to  feelings,  they  are 
percei)tions  as  different  from  the  other  ideas  of  touch,  such  as  cold^ 
heat,  hardness,  softness,  as  the  ideas  of  taste  or  smell.  Others  have 
hinted  at  an  external  sense  different  from  all  of  these."  What  that, 
is,  Hutcheson  does  not  mention  ;  and  some  of  our  Scotch  philoso- 
phers have  puzzled  themselves  to  conceive  the  meaning  of  his  allusion. 
There  is  no  doubt  that  he  referred  to  the  sixth  sense  of  Scaliger.. 

Adaiu  Smith,  in  his  posthumous  ^s.svry.s-,-  observes. 

that  hunger  and  thirst  are  objects  of  feeling,  not 

of  touch ;  and  that  heat  and   cold  are   felt   not  as  pressing  on  the 

ortran,  but  as  in  the  organ,  Kant''  divides  the 
whole  bodily  senses  into  two, —  into  a  Vital  Sense 
{Setisiis  Yagus),  and  an  Organic  Sense  {Sensus  Flxus).  To  the 
former  class  belong  the  sensations  of  heat  and  cold,  shuddering,. 
<iuaking,  etc.  The  latter  is  divided  into  the  five  senses,  of  Touch 
l^rojx'r.  Sight,  Hearing,  Taste,  and  Smell. 

Tills  division  has  now  become  general  in  Germany,  the  Vital  Sense 

receiving  from  various  authors  various  synonyms^ 

Kanf.  division  gen-       ^^  cceucEsthesis,  common  feeling,  vital  feeling  and 

eral  in  Germany.  „    ,    ,.  ,'    .       .  'i     i 

se7%se  ofj^eeling,  sensu  latiori,  etc.;  ami  tne  sensa- 
tions attributed  to  it  are  heat  and  cold,  shuddei-ing,  feeling  of  health, 
hunger  and  thirst,  visceral  sensations,  etc.     This  division  is,  likewise^ 

adopted  by  Dr.  Brown.     He  divides  our  sensations. 

Brown.  .  ,         'i-i  ,  t,<-  -i    •    ^      ^\ 

mto  those  wluch  are  less  dehnite,  and  mto  tliose 

which  are  more  definite  ;  and  these,  his  two  classes,  correspond  pre- 
cisely to  the  sensus  vagus  and  sensus  Jixus  of  the  German  philoso- 
phers.^ 

The  propriety  of  throwing  out  of  the  sense  of  Touch  those  sensa- 
tions which  afford  us  indications  only  of  the  sub- 
Toucii  to  be  divided       jectlve  Condition  of  the  body,   in  other  words,  of 

from  sensible  feelinK.  '^•     ■  ^■         .  i     i-  -i  i      i-     i-  •  » 

,     .,         .         ,  dividni'j;  touch  irom  sensible  leeliiu;,  is  apparent. 

1.     From  the  analogy  ~  _     _  _  '  '  ' 

of  the  special  seuBeu.  !•»  the  first  phicc,  tilis  is  manifest  on  the  analogy 

of  the  other  special  senses.  These,  as  we  have 
seen,  are  divided  into  two  classes,  according  as  percept  ini  pi-oper  or 

1  Sect,  i.,  third  edition,  p.  .'3.  note.  — Ep.  (1793),  c.  ii.  §  2,  p.  14.  di^tiiiiruifhed  the  Vital 

2  0/^(/if  Ki-ffrnn/ .v.nsr.s, p. 2(>2(od.l8i10) —En.       Sense   from   the   Orfraiiie   Senses.      See   also 
■"•  .4/i<Aro/>o/»i.'i>,  ^   15. —  El).     (Previously  to       iHibner's  /Ji-wrr/a/io/i  (1704 1.    CI.  (iniithuiiien, 

Kant,  whose  Anlhropolugie  was  first  published       Anthnipnlosif,  ^  A''),  p.  .3'U  ("(lit.  ISIO)  ] 
in  179S.  1.^'ideiifroet,  in  his  De  Menu  Humana.  *  Lectures  xvli.  xviii  —  Ed 

48 


^T8  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXYIX 

sensation  proper  predominates  ;  the  sense  of  Sight  and  Heai-ing  per- 
taining to  the  first,  those  of  Smell  and  Taste  to  the  second.  Here 
«ach  is  decidedly  either  perceptive  or  sensitive.  Bnt  in  Tonch,  under 
tlie  vulgar  attribution  of  qualities,  perception  and  sensation  both  find 
their  maximum.  At  the  finger-points,  this  sense  would  give  us  ob- 
jective knowledge  of  the  outer  world,  with  the  least  possible  alloy 
of  subjective  feeling;  in  hunger  and  thirst,  etc.,  on  the  contrary  it 
•would  afford  us  a  subjective  feeling  of  our  own  state,  with  the  least 
possible  addition  of  objective  knowledge.  On  this  ground,  there- 
fore, we  ought  to  attribute  to  different  senses  perceptions  and  sensa- 
tions so  different  in  decree. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  it  is  not  merely  in  the  opposite  degree  of 

these  two  counter  elements  that  this  distinction 

2.  From  the  different       jg  to  be  founded,  but  likewise  on  the  different 

quality  of  the  percep-  t^         ^  ^^  i>  ,  i  •  i 

tion<  and  sensations  q^iJ^hty  oi  tiie  groups  oi  the  perceptions  and  sen- 
themseives.  satious  thcmselves.     There  is  nothing  similar  be- 

tween these  different  groups,  except  the  negative 
circumstance  that  there  is  no  special  organ  to  which  positively  to 
refer  them  ;  and,  therefore,  they  are  exclusively  slumped  together 
under  that  sense  which  is  not  obtrusively  marked  out  and  isolated 
by  the  mechanism  of  a  peculiar  instrument. 

Limiting,  therefore,  the  special  sense  of  Touch  to  that  of  objective 

information,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  that  this  sense 

fepecia     ense  o         -^^^^  -^^  ^^^^  ^^  ^j^^  cxtremitv  of  the  nerves  which 

Toucli, — Its  sphere  and  _  _  .  .    *        .       . 

organic  seat.  terminate  in  the  skin  ;    its  principal  organs  are 

the  finger-points,  the  toes,  the  lips,  and  the 
tongue.  Of  these,  the  first  is  the  most  j)erfect.  At  the  tips  of  the 
fingers,  a  tender  skin  covers  the  nervous  papillae,  and  here  the  nail 
serves  not  only  as  a  protecting  shield  to  the  organ,  but,  likewise,  by 
affording  an  opposition  to  the  body  which  makes  an  impression  on 
the  finger-ends,  it  renders  more  distinct  our  perception  of  the  nature 
of  its  surface.  Through  the  great  mobility  of  the  fingers,  of  the 
Avrist,  and  of  the  shoulder-joint,  we  are  able  with  one,  and  still  more 
eff"ectually,  with  both  hands,  to  manipulate  an  object  on  all  sides,  and 
thereby  to  attain  a  knowledge  of  its  figure.  We  likewise  owe  to  the 
sense  of  Touch  a  perception  of  those  conformations  of  a  body,  accord- 
ing to  which  we  call  it  rough  or  smooth,  hard  or  soft,  sharp  or  blunt. 
The  repose  or  motion  of  a  body  is  also  perceived  through  the  touch. 
To  obviate  misunderstanding,  I  should,  however,  notice  that  the 
proper  organ  of  Touch  —  the  nervous  papilla?  — requii'es  as  the  con- 
dition of  its  exercise,  the  movement  of  the  voluntary  muscles.  This 
condition  however,  ought  not  to  be  viewed  as  a  part  of  the  organ 
itself.     This  being  understood,  the  perception  of  the  weight  of  a 


I 


Lect.  xxvii.  metaphysics.  379 

body  will  not  full  under  tliis  sense,  as  the  nerves  lying  under  the 

epidermis  or  scurf  skin  have  little  or  no  share  in 
Proper  organ  of      ^j^j^  knowledge.     We  owe  it  almost  exclusively 

Touch      rwiuires,     as  . 

condition  of  its  exer-  to  the  cousciousness  we  have  of  the  exertion  of 
cise,  the  movement  of  the  muscles,  requisite  to  lift  with  the  hand  a 
the   voluntary   mus-       lieavy  bodv  from  the  ground,  or  when  it  is  laid 

on  the  shoulders  or  head,  to  keep  our  own  body 
erect,  and  to  carry  the  burthen  fi-ora  one  place  to  another. 

I  next  proceed  to  consider  two  couiUer-questions,  which  are   still 

agitated  by  philosophers.'     The  first  is,  —  Does 

Two  counter  ques-       gj  j^^  ^^.^^^..^  ^^  ^^  oriirinal  knowledge  of  exten- 

tions  regarding  sphere  .^  '^       .  ^ 

^f  gjght.  sion,  or  do  we  not  owe  this  exclusively  to  Touch  ? 

The  second  is,  —  Does  Touch  afford  us  an  original 

knowledge  of  extension,  or  do  we  not  owe  this  exclusively  to  Sight  ? 

Both  questions  are  still  undetermined  ;  and  consequently,  the  vulgar 

belief  is  also  unestablished,  that  we  obtain  a  knowledge  of  extension 

originally  both  from  sight  and  touch. 

I  commence,  then,  with  the  first, —  Does  Vision  aflfbrd  us  a  primary 
knowledge  of  extension,  or  do  we  not  owe  this 

1.  Does  Vision  afford  "-  . 

us  a  primary  knowi-  knowledge  exclusively  to  Touch  ?  But,  before 
edge  of  extension?  or  entering  ou  its  discussion,  it  is  proper  to  state  to 
dowe  not  owe  this  ex-       you,  by  preamble,  what  kind  of  extension  it  is 

clusively  to  Touch?  Ii     *    *i'  ii      •     t      ^     x        •    i^        i 

tliat  those  would  vindicate  to  sight,  who  answer 
this  question  in  the  afiirmative.  The  whole  primary  objects  of  sight, 
then,  are  colors,  and  extensions,  and  forms  or  figures  of  extension. 
And  here  you  will  observe,  it  is  not  all  kind  of  extension  and  form 
that  is  attributed  to  sight.  It  is  not  figured  extension  in  all  the 
three  dimensions,  but  only  extension  as  involved  in  plane  figures ; 
that  is,  only  length  and  breadth. 

It  has  generally  been   admitted   by   ])hilosophers,  after  Aristotle, 
that  color  is  the  pro{)er  object  of  sight,  and  that 

Color  the  proper  ob-  ,  •  ,   ^  ^        •    V^  i   x  i 

,  „.  .       ^,.        extension  and  nijure,  common  to  siijhtand  toucli, 

ject   of  Sight.      Tins  rr^         ^  o 

generally  admitted.  -i'"*^'  <^"'ly  accidentally  its  objects,  becausc  supposed 

in  the  perception  of  color. 
Tiie   first   philosopher,  with   whom  I  am  acquainted,  who  doubted 
or  d('nie<l  that  vision  is  conversant  with  extension, 

Berkeley  the  first  to  i>ii  1....1  1  •  «'i: 

Mas   bi'rkelev :    but   tiie  clear   expression   01   liis 

■deny    that    extension  ...  *      .  .         .  , 

object  of  Sight.  oi)inion  i.s  contained  in  his  Defence  of  the  Theory 

of  Vision^  an  extremely  rare  tract,  wliiih   has 

escaped  the  knowledge  of  all  his  editors  and  biographers,  and  is  con- 

se(iM('ntlv  not  to  be  found  in  anv  of  the  editions 
Condillac.  ,  .■,,,,_  ■,  .    , 

01  ills  collc'cttMl  works.      It  was  almost  certainly, 

therefore,   wholly  unknown   to   C'oiidillac,  who  is  the   next   philoso- 


380  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXVll. 

pher  who  maintained  the  same  opinion.      This,  however,  he  did  not 
do  either  very  exj^licitly  or  witliout  change;  for  the  new  doctrine 

which  he  hazards  in  his  earlier  work,  in  his  later 
a  ou  iniere.  j^^  again  tacitlv  replaces  by  the  old.'     After  its. 

Stewart.  »  .  .    . 

surrender  by  Condillac,  the  opinion  was,  however, 
supported,  as  I  find,  by  Labouliniere.^  Mr.  Stewart  maintains  that 
extension  is  not  an  object  of  sight.  "  I  formerly,"  he  says,  "had  oc- 
casion to  mention  several  instances  of  very  intimate  associations 
formed  between  two  ideas  which  have  no  necessarji. connect  ion  with 
each  other.  One  of  the  most  remarkable  is,  that  which  exists  in  every 
person's  mind  between  the  notions  of  color  and  extensioit.  The 
former  of  these  words  expresses  (at  least  in  the  sense  in  which  we 
commonly  employ  it)  a  sensation  in  the  mind,  the  latter  denotes  a 
quality  of  an  external  object;  so  that  there  is,  in  fact,  no  more  con- 
nection between  the  two  notions  than  between  those  of  pain  and  of 
solidity ;  and  yet  in  consequence  of  our  always  perceiving  extension 
at  the  same  time  at  which  the  sensation  of  color  is  excited  in  the- 
mind,  we  find  it  impossible  to  thiidv  of  that  sensation  without  con- 

ceivins:   extension  alonij  with  it."  ^     But  before 

Hartleian  School.  t       .         ^  ,  .  .  ,,        , 

and  alter  btewart,  a  doctnne,  virtually  the  sarae> 
is  maintained  by  the  Hartleian  school ;  who  assert,  as  a  consequence 
of  their  universal  principle  of  association,  tliat  the  perception  of  color 
suggests  the  notion  of  extension.'' 

Then  comes  Dr.  Brown,  who,  in  his  Lectures^  after  having  repeat- 
edly asserted,  that  it  is,  and  always  has  been^ 
the  universal  oj)inion  of  philosophers,  that  the 
superficial  extension  of  length  and  breadth  becomes  known  to  u» 
by  sight  originally,  proceeds,  as  he  says,  for  the  first  time,  to  con- 
trovert this  opinion;^  though  it  is  wholly  impossible  that  he  could 

1  The  order  of  Condillac's  opinions  is  the  space,  do  we,  by  means  of  that  sensation, 
reverse  of  that  stated  in  the  text.     In   his  acquire  also  the  proper  idea  of  extension,  as. 
earliest  work,   the   Orisinr  ties   Coniwissances  composed  of  parts  exterior  to  each  other '     In 
Humaines,  part  i   sect,  vi.,  he  combats  Berke-  otlier  words,  does  the  sensation  of  different 
ley's  theory  of  vision,   and   maintains  that  colors,  which  is  necessary  to  the  distinction 
exten.sion  exterior  to  the  eye  is  discernible  by  of  parts  at  all,  necessarily  suggest  different 
sight.     Subsequently,  in  the  Traite  c/es  Sensa-  and  contiguous  localities'     This  question  is 
tions,  j)art  i.  ch.  xi.,  i)art   ii.  ch.  iv.  v.,   he  explicitly  answered  in  the  negative  by  Con- 
asserts  that  the  eye  is  incapable  of  perceiving  dillac,  and  in  the  affirmative  by  Sir  W.  Ham- 
extension  beyond  itself,  aiid  that  this  idea  is  ilton.     Cf  The  Tlienry  of  Vision  i-indicateil  and 
originally  due  solely  to  the  sense  of  touch.  erplained.    London,  1733.    See  especially,  §f 
This  opinion  he  again  repeats  in  VArt  de  Pen-  41,  42,  44,  45,  46.  —  Ed. 
ser,  part  i   ch.  xi.     But  neither  Condillac  nor  2  See  Reid^s  Works,  p.  868.  —  Ed. 
Berkeley  goes  so  far  as  to  say  that  color,  re-  3  Elements  of  tlie  Pliilosophy  of  the  Human 
garded  as  an  affection  of  the  visual  organism.  Mind,  vol.  i.  chap.  v.  part  ii.  §  1.     Works,  vol. 
is  apprehended  as  absolutely  unextended,  as  ii.  p.  306.     [Cf  Ibid., noteV.  —  Ed] 
a  mathematical  point.     Kor  is  this  the  ques-  fsee   Vriestiey,  Hartley^s  Theonj,  [ii-op.   '20. 
tion  in  dispute      But  granting,  as  Condillac  .Tames  Mill,  Analysis  of  Human  Min  /.  \  ol.  i 
in  his  later  view  e.xpressly  asserts,  that  color,  p.  73. — Ed. 
as  a  visual    sensation,  necessarily  occupies  5  Lecture  xxviii.  —  E». 


Lect.  XXVn.  METAPHYSICS.  381 

have  been  ignorant  that  the  same  had  been  done,  at  least  by  Con- 
dillac  and  Stewart.  Brown  himself,  however,  was  to  be  treated 
somewhat  in  the  fashion  in  which  he  treats  his  predecessors.  Some 
twenty  years  ago,  there  were  published  the  Lectures  on  Ifitellectual 

Philosoj^hy,  by  the  late  John  Young,  LL.  D., 
Professor  of  Philosophy  in  Belfast  College ;  a 
work  which  certainly  shows  considerable  shrewdness  and  ingenuity. 
This  unfortunate  speculator  seems,  however,  to  have  been  fated,  in 
almost  every  instance,  to  be  anticipated  by  Brown;  and,  as  far  as  I 
have  looked  into  these  Lectures,  I  have  been  amused  with  the 
never-failing  preamble,  —  of  the  astonishment,  the  satisfaction,  and 
so  forth,  which  the  author  expresses  on  finding,  on  the  publication 
of  Brown's  Jjectures,  that  the  opinions  which  he  himself,  as  he  says, 
had  always  held  and  taught,  were  those  also  which  had  obtained 
the  countenance  of  so  distinguished  a  philosopher.  The  coincidence 
is,  however,  too  systematic  and  precise  to  be  the  effect  of  accident; 
and  the  identity  of  opinion  between  the  two  doctoi's  can  only  (plagi- 
arism apart),  be  explained  by  borrowing  from  the  hypothesis  of  a 
Preestablished  Harmony  between  their  minds.^  Of  course,  they 
are  both  at  one  on  the  problem  under  consideratlon.- 

But  to  return   to  Brown,  by  whom  the   argument  against  the 
common    doctrine    is    most   fully   stated.      He 

I'.rown  (juoted. 

says : 

"The  universal  oj)iiiion  of  philosophers  is,  that  it  is  not  color 
merely  which  it  (the  simple  original  sensation  of  A'ision)  involves, 
but  extension  also,  —  that  there  is  a  visible  figure,  as  well  as  a  tan- 
gible fif'-URN  —  and  that  llic  visible  figure  involves,  in  our  instant 
original  jierception,  superficial  length  and  breadth,  as  the  tangible 
figure,  which  we  learn  to  see,  involves  length,  breadth,  and  thickness, 

"Th;it  it  is  impossible  for  us,  at  jiresent,  to  separate,  in  the  sensa- 
tion of  vision,  the  color  from  the  extension,  I  admit ;  though  not 
more  completely  impossible",  ihaii  it  is  for  us  to  look  on  the  thou- 
sand feet  of  a  meadow,  and  to  perceive  only  the  small  inch  of 
greenness  on  our  retina;  and  the  one  impossibility,  as  much  as  the 
other,  I  conceive  to  arise  only  from  intimate  association,  subsequent 
to  the  original  sensations  of  sight.  Nor  <lo  I  deny,  tliat  a  certain 
part  of  the  retina  —  which,  being  limited,  must  therefore  have 
figure  —  is  affected  by  the  rays  of  liglit  that  fall  on  it,  as  a  certain 
breadth  of  nervous  expanse  is  affected  in  all  the  other  organs.      I 

1  T  now  find,  and  linvc  olscwhorc  ptntcd,      ing,  from  the  same  source,  —  Po  Tracr.    See 
that  tlie  similarity  between  these  pliilosophers       Disfrrtatinns  on  Keiil,  note  D.  J)   I'lVS. 
arises  from  their  borrowing,  I  may  say  steal-  2  See  Young,  Lectures  on  Intellectual  Philoso- 

phy, p.  116. 


382  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XXYIL 

contend  only,  that  the  perception  of  this  limited  figure  of  the  por- 
tion of  the  retina  affected,  does  not  enter  into  the  sensation  itself 
more  than,  in  our  sensations  of  any  other  species,  there  is  a  percep- 
tion of  the  nervous  breadth  affected. 

"  The  immediate  perception  of  visible  figure  has  been  assumed  as 
indisputable,  rather  than  attempted  to  be  proved,  —  as  before  the 
time  of  Berkeley,  the  immediate  visual  perception  of  distance,  and 
of  the  three  dimensions  of  matter,  was  supposed,  in  like  manner,  to 
be  without  any  need  of  proof;  —  and  it  is,  therefore,  impossible  to 
refer  to  ai-gumeuts  on  the  subject.  I  presume,  however,  that  the 
reasons  which  have  led  to  this  belief,  of  the  immediate  perception 
of  a  figure  termed  visible,  as  distinguished  from  that  tangible  figure, 
which  we  learn  to  see,  are  the  following  two,  —  the  only  reasons 
which  I  can  even  imagine,  —  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible,  in  our 
present  sensations  of  sight,  to  separate  color  from  extension,  —  and 
that  there  are,  in  fact,  a  certain  length  and  breadth  of  the  retina,  on 
which  the  light  falls."  ^ 

He  thea  goes  on  to  argue,  at  a  far  greater  length  than  can  be 
quoted,  that  the  mere  circumstance  of  a  certain 

Summan' of  B/own's         i   j^    -^  •        ,i  .it        .■  i- 

definite  space,  viz.,  the  extended  retina,  beino: 

argument.  i  ^  ■>  '  n 

affected  by  certain  sensations,  does  not  necessa- 
rily involve  the  notion  of  extension.  Indeed,  in  all  those  cases  in 
which  it  is  supposed,  that  a  certain  diffusion  of  sensations  excites 
the  notion  of  tjxtension,  it  Beems  to  be  taken  for  granted  that  the 
being  knows  aJ/eady,  that  he  has  an  extended  body,  over  which 
these  sensations  are  thus  diffused.  Nothing  but  the  sense  of  touch, 
however,  and  noUiing  but  tliose  kinds  of  touch  which  imply  the 
idea  of  continued  resistance,  can  give  us  any  notion  of  body  at  all. 
All  mental  affections  which  are  regarded  merely  as  feelings  of  the 
mind,  and  which  do  not  give  us  a  conception  of  their  external 
causes,  can  never  be  known  to  arise  from  anything  which  is  ex- 
tended or  solid.  So  far,  however,  is  the  mere  sensation  of  color 
from  being  able  to  produce  this,  that  touch  itself,  as  felt  in  many  of 
its  modifications,  could  give  us  no  idea  of  it.  That  the  sensation  of 
color  is  quite  unfit  to  give  us  any  idea  of  extension,  merely  by  its 
being  diffused  over  a  certain  expanse  of  the  retina,  seems  to  be  cor- 
roborated by  what  we  experience  in  tlie  other  senses,  even  after  we 
are  perfectly  acquainted  with  the  notion  of  extension.  In  hearing, 
for  instance,  a  certain  quantity  of  the  tympanum  of  the  ear  must  be 
affected  by  the  pulsations  of  the  air ;  yet  it  gives  us  no  idea  of  the 
dimensions  of  the  part  affected.  The  same  may,  in  general,  be  said 
of  taste  and  smell. 

1  Lect.  xxix.  p.  185  (edit.  1830).  — Ed. 


•'^•,' 


Lect.  XXVII.  METAPHYSICS.  383 

Now,  in  all  their  elaborate  argumentation  on  this  subject,  these 

philosophers  seem  never  yet  to  have  seen  the 

The  perception  of       j-Q^d  difficulty  of  their  doctrine.     It  can  easily  be 

extension    necessarily         ^j^^^^^^  ^j^^^  ^^^    perceiition   of  Color  involvCS  the 
given  in  the    percep-  _  *  '_ 

tion  of  colors.  perception    of  extension.      It  is  admitted  that 

we  have  by  sight  a  perception  of  colors,  conse^ 
quently,  a  perception  of  the  difference  of  colors.  But  a  i)erception 
of  the  distinction  of  colors  necessarily  involves  the  perception  of  a 
discriminating  line ;  for  if  one  color  bo  laid  beside  or  upon  another, 
we  only  distinguish  them  as  different  by  perceiving  that  they  limit 
each  other,  which  limitation  necessarily  affords  a  breadthless  line, 
—  a  line  of  demarcation.  One  color  laid  upon  another,  in  fact, 
gives  a  line  returning  upon  itself,  that  is,  a  figure.  But  a  line  and 
a  figure  are  modifications  of  extension.  The  perception  of  exten- 
sions therefore,  is  necessarily  given  in  the  perception  of  colors. 


i 


LECTURE    XXVIII. 

THE  PRESENTATIVE   FACULTY. 

I.  PERCEPTION. RELATIONS    OF    SIGHT    AND    TOUCH    TO    EXTENSION. 

In^  my  last  Lecture,  after  showing  you  that  the  vulgar  distribu- 
tion  of  the  Senses  into  five,  stands  in  need  of 

Reoftpituiation.  correction,  and  stating  what  that  correction  is, 

I  proceeded  to  the  consideration  of  some  of  the  more  important 
philosophical  problems,  Avhich  arise  out  of  the  relation  of  the  senses 
to  the  elementary  objects  of  Perception. 

I  then  stated  to  you  two  counter-problems  in  relation  to  the 
genealogy  of  our  empirical  knowledge  of  extension ;  and  as,  on  the 
one  hand,  some  philosophers  maintain  tliat  we  do  not  perceive 
extension  by  the  eye,  but  obtain  this  notion  through  touch,  so,  on 
the  other,  there  are  philosophers  wlio  hold  that  we  do  not  perceive 
extension  through  the  touch,  but  exclusively  by  the  eye.  The  con- 
sideration of  these  counter-questions  will,  it  is  evident,  involve 
a  consideration  of  the  common  doctrine  intermediate  between  these 
<^xtreme  opinions,  —  that  we  derive  our  knowledge  of  extension 
from  both  senses.  I  keep  aloof  from  this  discussion  the  opinion, 
that  spnce,  under  which  extension  is  included,  is  not  an  empirical 
or  adventitious  notion  at  all,  but  a  native  form  of  thought;  for 
admitting  this,  still  if  space  be  also  a  necessary  fonn  of  the  external 
world,  <ve  shall  also  have  an  empirical  perception  of  it  by  our 
senses,  and  the  question,  therefore,  equally  remains,  —  Through 
what  s*^.nse,  or  senses,  have  we  tliis  perception? 

In  relation  to  the  first  problem,  I  stated  that  the  position  which 
denies  to  visual  perception  all  cognizance  of  extension,  w^as  main- 
tained by  Condillac,  by  Labouliniere,  by  Stewart,  by  the  followers 
of  Hartley  (Priestley,  Belsham,  Mill,  etc.),  and  by  Brown,  — to  say 
nothing  of  several  recent  authors  in  this  country,  and  in  America. 
I  do  not  think  it  necessary  to  state  to  you  the  long  process  of  rea- 
soning on  which,  especially  by  BroAvn,  this  paradox  has  been 
crcunded.     It  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  there  is  no  reason  whatso- 


Lfxt.  XXVm.  METAPHYSICS.  385 


o 


•ever  adduced  in  its  supiiort,  wliich  carries  with  it  the  smallest 
weight.  The  whole  argumentation  in  reply  to  the  objections  sup- 
posed by  its  defenders,  is  in  reply  to  objections  which  no  one,  I 
•conceive,  who  understood  his  case,  would  ever  dream  of  advancing; 
while  the  only  objection  which  it  was  incumbent  on  the  advocates 
of  the  j)aradox  to  have  answered,  is  passed  over  in  total  silence. 
This    objection    is    stated    in   three  words.     All    parties    are,   of 

course,  at  one  in  regard  to  the  fact  that  we  see 
Proof  that  Sight  is       ^^^^^.^     rpj^^^^  ^^j^^  j^^j^  ^j^^^  ^^  ^^^  extension, 

cognizant    of    exteu-  i      •        ^  •  i  ■,  i 

gjy,,  admit  that  we  see  it  only  as  colored;  and  those 

who  deny  us  any  vision  of  extension,  make 
color  the  exclusive  object  of  sight.  In  regard  to  this  first  position, 
all  are,  therefore,  agreed.  Xor  are  they  less  harmonious  in  reference 
to  the  second;  —  that  the  power  of  perceiving  color  involves  the 
power  of  perceiving  the  ditferences  of  colors.  By  sight  we,  there- 
fore, perceive  color,  and  discriminate  one  color,  that  is,  one  colored 
bo<ly,  —  one  sensation  of  color,  from  another.  This  is  admitted. 
A  third  position  will  also  be  denied  by  none,  that  the  colors  dis> 
criminated  in  vision,  are,  or  may  be,  placed  side  by  side  in  imme- 
diate juxtaposition;  or,  one  may  limit  another  by  being  superin^ 
duced  partially  over  it.     A  fourth  position  is  equally  indisputable, 

—  that  the  contrasted  colors,  thus  bounding  each  other,  will  form 
by  their  meeting  a  visible  line,  and  that,  if  the  superinduced  color 
be  surrounded  by  the  other,  this  line  will  return  upon  itself,  and 
tlius  constitute  the  outline  of  a  visible  figure. 

These  four  jjositions  command  a  peremptory  assent;  they  are  all 
self-evident.  But  their  admission  at  once  explodes  the  paradox 
under  discussion.     And  thus:  A  line  is  extension  in  one  dimension, 

—  length;  a  figure  is  extension  in  two, —  length  and  breadth. 
Therefore,  the  vision  of  a  line  is  a  vision  of  extension  in  length  ; 
the  vision  of  a  figure,  the  vision  of  extension  in  length  and  breadtli. 
This  is  an  inimediate  demonstration  of  the  impossibility  of  the 
opinion  in  (piestion ;  and  it  is  curious  that  the  ingenuity  which 
suggested  to  its  supporters  the  ])etty  and  recondite  objections,  they 
have  so  operosely  combated,  should  not  have  shown  them  this 
gigantic  difficulty,  which  lay  ol)trusively  before  them. 

So  far,  in  fiict,  is  the  doctrine  whicli  divorces  the  j)erceptions  of 

color  and  extension  from  being  true,  that  we 

Extension  cannot       cannot  evcii   rej)resent  extension    to  the   mind 

bo   renrcsiMited  to  the  ,  ^  t        it-^i  i 

„.   ,  .  ,        excei)t  as  colored.      \\  hen  we  come  to  tlie  con- 

mnid    except    as    col-  ' 

ored.  sideration    of    the    Representative    Faculty,  — 

Imagination,  —  I  shall  endeavor  to  show  vou 
{what  has  not  been  observed  by  psychologists),  that  in  the  rcpre- 

49 


•S86  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXVIIL 

sentation,  —  in   the    imagination,   of  sensible    objects,   we    always 

represent  them  in  the  organ  of  Sense  through 

Sensible  objects  rep-  i  •    i  •    •       n  •        i     i  mi 

,  ,   .    ,  which  we  ongmaily  perceived  them.     1  hus,  we 

reKented,  in  Imagina-  »  ^    i  ' 

tion,  in  the  organ  of      .cannot  imagine  any  particular  odor  but  in  the 
Sense  through  which       nosc;  uor   any  sound  but  in  the   ear;  nor  any 

we      originally     per-         ^^^^^  ^^^^  j,^  ^-^^   j^^^^^^j^      ^^^^^^  -^  ^^^^  ^^^^^j^^  ^^^ 
ccivcd  tlicm* 

sent  any  joain  we  have  ever  felt,  this  can  only  be 
done  through  the  local  nerves.  In  like  manner,  when  Ave  imagine 
any  modification  of  light  we  do  so  in  the  eye  ;  and  it  is  a  curious 
confirmation  of  this,  as  is  well  knoAvn  to  physiologists,  that  when 
not  only  the  external  apparatus  of  the  eye,  which  is  a  mere  me- 
chanical instrument,  but  the  real  oigan  of  sight,  —  the  optic  nei'\'es 
and  their  thalami,  have  become  diseased,  the  patient  loses,  in  pro- 
portion to  the  extent  of  the  morbid  affection,  either  wholly  or  in 
part,  the  fiiculty  of  recalling  visible  phtenomena  to  his  mind.      I 

mention  this  at  present  in  order  to  show,  that 
Vision,  the  sense  by       Vision  is  not  Only  a  sense  comjietent  to  the  \yer~ 

preeminence     compe-  ^l^,-,    ^f  extension,   but    the    Sense    Kar    c^ovw, 

tent  to  the  perception  '■  .  ,      ,  .      . 

of  extension.  if  not  exclusively,  SO  competent,  —  and  this  in 

the  following  manner:  You  either  now  know, 
or  will  hereafter  learn,  that  no  notion,  whether  native  and  general, 
or  adventitious  and  generalized,  can  be  represented  in  imagination, 
except  in  a  concrete  or  singular  example.  For  instance,  you  can- 
not imagine  a  triangle  Avhich  is  not  either  an  equilateral,  or  an 
isosceles,  or  a  scalene,  —  in  short,  some  individual  form  of  a  trian- 
gle ;  nay,  more,  you  cannot  imagine  it,  except  either  large  or  small, 
on  paper,  or  on  a  board,  of  wood  or  of  iron,  white  or  black  or 
green ;  in  short,  except  under  all  the  special  determinations  which 
give  it,  in  thought,  as  in  existence,  singularity  or  individuality. 
The  same  happens,  too,  with  extension.  Space  I  admit  to  be  a 
native  form  of  thought,  —  not  an  adventitious  notion.  We  cannot 
but  think  it.  Yet  I  cannot  actually  represent  space  in  imagination, 
stript  of  all  individualizing  attributes.  In  this  act,  I  can  easily 
annihilate  all  corporeal  existence,  —  I  can  imagine  empty  space. 
But  there  are  two  attributes  of  which  I  cannot  divest  it,  that  is, 
shape  and  color.  This  may  sound  almost  ridiculous  at  first  state- 
ment, but   if  you   attend  to  the    phtenomenon,  you   Avill  soon  be 

satisfied  of  its  truth.      And  first  as  to  shape. 

Space  or  Extension       Your  minds  are  not  infinite,  and  cannot,  tliere- 

cannot  e  represen  e        fore,  positively  conceive  infinite  spacc.     Infinite 

in   Imagination  with-  x  j  i 

out  shape.  spacc  is  Only  conceived  negatively,  —  only  by 

conceiving  it  inconceivable;  in  other  words,  it 
cannot  be  conceived  at  all.     But  if  we  do  our  utmost  to  realize  this 


Lect.  XXVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  387 

notion  of  infinite  extension  l)y  :i  positive  act  of  imagination,  how 
do  we  proceed?  AYliy,  we  tliink  out  from  a  centre,  and  endeavor 
to  carry  tlie  circumference  of  the  sphere  to  infinity.  But  by  no 
one  effort  of  imagination  can  we  accomplisli  this;  and  as  we  cannot 
do  it  at  once  by  one  infinite  act,  it  would  require  an  eternity  of 
successive  finite  efibrts,  —  an  endless  series  of  iinai^ininixs  bevond 
imaginings,  to  equalize  the  thought  witli  its  object.  The  very 
attempt  is  contradictory.  But  when  we  leave  off,  has  the  imagined 
space  a  shape?  It  has:  for  it  is  finite;  and  a  finite,  tliat  is,  a 
bounded,  si)ace,  constitutes  a  figure.  .What,  then,  is  this  figure? 
It  is  spherical,  —  necessarily  spherical ;  for  as  the  effort  of  imagin- 
ing space  is  an  effort  outwards  from  a  centre,  the  space  represented 
in  imaginiition  is  necessarily  circular.  If  there  be  no  shape,  there 
has  been  no  positive  imagination ;  and  for  any  other  shape  than  the 
orbicular,  no  reason  can  be  assigned.  Such  is  the  figure  of  space 
in  a  free  act  of  phantasy. 

This,  however,  will  be  admitted  without  scruple  ;  for  if  real  space, 
as  it  is  well  described  by  St.  Augustin,  be  a  sphere  whose  centre  is 
CNcrywhere,  and  whose  circumference  is  nowhere,^  imagined  space 
may  be  allowed  to  be  a  sphere  whose  circumference  is  represented 
at  any  distance  from  its  centre.  But  will  its  color  be  as  easily  al- 
lowed ?    In  ex])lanation  of  this,  you  Avill  observe 

Nor  witliout  color.  i        t     i'  •  * 

that  under  color  I  of  course  include  black  as  well 
as  Mhite;  the  transparent  as  well  as  the  opaque,  —  in  short,  any 
modification  of  light  or  darkness.  This  being  understood,  I  main- 
tain that  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  figure,  extension,  space,  except 
as  colored  in  some  determinate  mode.  You  may  represent  it  under 
any,  but  you  must  rcpi'cscnt  it  under  some,  modification  of  light, 
—  color.      j\[ake   the  ex])eriment,  and  you   will   find   I  am  correct. 

But  I  anticipate  an  objection.     The  non-iiercei^- 

Objcctiou  obviated.  .  n        i  i         •       i  -i-  o    •>•        ■      •         ■ 

tion  of  color  oi-  the  inanuitA'  of  (hscruninatinLf 
colors,  is  a  case  of  not  Tiiifrc(|U(nt  occurrence,  though  the  subjects 
of  this  deficiency  arc,  at  the  same  time,  not  otherwise  defective  in 

1  The  editors  liavc  not  bopu  able  to  discover  more    usually   cited   as   a   definitimi    of   the 

this  passage  in  St.  Augustin.     As  ijuoled  in  Deity.     In  this  relation  it  has  been  attributed 

the  tc.\t,  with  reference  to  space,  it  closely  to  the    mythical    Ilcrmes  Trismegistus   (see 

resembles  the  words  of  Pascal,  Pfnscrf,  part  Alex.  Ales.,   Siimmn    Thcnl.  part  i.  <ju.  vii. 

i   nit.  iv.  (vol.  ii.  p.  04,  edit.  FauRcre):  "Tout  memb.  1),  and  to  Emj)e<locle.s  (see  Vincentiu* 

ce  monde  visible  n'est  iprun  tniit  inipereeiiti-  Itellovacensis,  Sprcuhim  flisiorinlf,  lib.  ii.  c.  1; 

ble  dans  I'l.niide  sien  de  la  nature.      Xulle  Spemliim  .\nliirnli,]ib.  i.e.  ^).     It  was  a  fa\  or- 

idee  n'en  approche.    Nous  avons  beau  entler  ite  e.\prcsKiou  with  the  mystics  of  the  middlx 

nos  conceptions  aiidela  dcs  cspaces  imacina-  apes.      See  Sliiller,  Cliristian   Dorlrinr  of  .Vin, 

bles  nous  n'enfantons  i|ue  des  atoines,au  pri.x  vol.  ii.  \i.  134  (Knp.  transl.).    Some  interesting 

de  la  rralito  des  choses.      C'est  uiie   spln'-re  historical  notices  of  this  i'xpri's«ion  will   be 

infinie,  dont  le  centre  est  partout,  la  circon-  found  in  a  learned  note  in  .At.  Uavct  t  editiou 

fereace  nulle  part."     Uut  the  expression  is  of  I'ascal's  Ptnjcf^,  p.  3.  -  Ed. 


'388  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXVIIL 

vision.  In  cases  of  this  description,  there  is,  however,  necessarily  a 
discrimination  of  light  and  shade,  and  the  colors  that  to  us  appear 
in  all  "  the  sevenfold  radiance  of  eftulgent  light,"  to  them  appear 
oidy  as  different  gradations  of  clare-obscure.  Were  this  not  the 
case,  there  could  be  no  vision.  Such  persons,  therefore,  have  still 
two  great  contrasts  of  color,  —  black  and  white,  and  an  indefinite 
number  of  intermediate  gradations,  in  which  to  represent  space  to 
tlieir  imaginations.  Nor  is  there  any  difficulty  in  the  case  of  the 
blind,  the  absolutely  blind,  —  the  blind  from  birth.  Blindness  is  the 
non-perception  of  color ;  the  non-perception  of  color  is  simple  dark- 
ness. The  space,  therefoi-e,  rejjresented  by  the  blind,  if  represented 
at  all,  will  be  represented  black.  Some  modification  of  ideal  light 
or  darkness  is  thus  the  condition  of  the  imagination  of  space.  This 
of  itself  powerfully  supports  the  doctrine,  that  vision  is  conversant 
with  extension  as  its  object.  But  if  the  opinion  I  have  stated  be 
correct,  that  an  act  of  imagination  is  only  realized  through  some 
oro-an  of  sense,  the  imj^ossibility  of  representing  space  out  of  all 
relation  to  light  and  color  at  once  establishes  the  eye  as  the  appro- 
priate sense  of  extension  and  figure. 

In  corroboration  of  the  general  view  I  have  taken  of  the  relation 

of  Sight  to  extension,  I  may  translate  to  you  a 

D' Aiembert  quoted       jiassagc  bv  a  distinguished  mathematician  and 

hi  support  of  the  view       j^hHosopher,  who,  in  writing  it,  probably  had  in 

tiou  of  Si"^httoexteu-       ^^^^  ^V^  ^^^®  paradoxical  speculation  of  Condillac. 

sion.  "It  is  certain,"  says  D'Alembert, ^  "that  sight 

alone,  and  independently  of  touch,  affords  us  the 
idea  of  extension;  for  extension  is  the  necessary  object  of  vision, 
and  we  should  see  nothing  if  we  did  not  see  it  extended.  I  even 
believe  that  sight  must  give  us  the  notion  of  extension  more  readily 
than  touch,  because  sight  makes  us  remark  more  promptly  and  per- 
=fectly  than  touch,  that  contiguity,  and,  at  the  same  time,  that  dis- 
tinction of  parts  in  which  extension  consists.  Moreover,  vision 
alone  gives  us  the  idea  of  the  color  of  objects.  Let  us  suppose  now 
parts  of  space  differently  colored,  and  presented  to  our  eyes ;  the 
■difference  of  colors  will  necessarily  cause  us  to  observe  the  bounda- 
ries or  limits  Avhich  separate  two  neighboring  colors,  and,  conse- 
quently, will  give  us  an  idea  of  figui-e  ;  for  we  conceive  a  figure 
"when  we  conceive  a  limitation  or  boundary  on  all  sides." 

I  am  confident,  therefore,  that  we  may  safely  establish  the  conclu- 
sion, that  Sight  is  a  sense  principally  conversant  with  extension; 
■whether  it  be  the  only  sense  thus  ^conversant,  remains  to  be  con- 
sidered. 

1  Melanges,  t.  v.  p.  109.  — Ed. 


Lect.  XXVm.  METAPHYSICS.  389 

I  proceed,  therefore,  to  the  seconrl  of  the  counter-problems,  —  to 

inquire  whether  Siglit  be  exehisix  ely  the  sense 

2.  Does  Touch  afford       -wliich  affords  US  a  knowledge  of  extension,  or 

us  an  original  knovvi-       whether  it  does  this  onlv  Conjunctly  with  Touch. 

edge  of  extension,  or  i  -i  i  i 

do  we  owe  this  exciu-       "^^  some  philosophers  have  denied  to  vision  all 
siveiy  to  Sight?  perception  of  extension  and  figure,  and  given 

this  solely  to  touch,  so  others  have  equally 
refused  this  perception  to  touch,  and  accorded  it  exclusively  to 
vision. 

This  doctrine  is  maintained  among  others  by  Platncr,  —  a  man 

no  less  celebrated  as  an  acute  philosopher,  than 

The  affirmative  of       j^g  j^  learned  physician,  and  an  elegant  scholar. 

the      latter     question  Tin  i  .  t        i  •        i  m  i  •      i  /^ 

.  .  .     ,  ,     „,  .        1  shall  endeavor  to  render  his  philosophical  Ger- 

maiutamed    by    Plat-  ... 

uer.  "^31^  into  intelligible  English,  and  translate  some 

of  the  preliminary  sentences  with  which  lie  in- 
troduces  a   curious  observation  made  by  him   on  a  blind  subject. 

"  It  is  very  true,  as  my  acute  antasjonist  observes, 

PI atner  quoted.  J  ■>  J         ^  »  y 

that  the  gloomy  extension  which  imagination 
presents  to  us  as  an  actual  object,  is  by  no  means  the  pure  a  priori 
representation  of  space.  It  is  very  true,  that  this  is  only  an  empir- 
ical or  adventitious  image,  which  itself  supposes  the  pure  or  <i  jyriori 
notion  of  space  (or  of  extension),  in  other  words,  the  necessity  to 
think  everything  as  extended.  But  I  did  not  wish  to  explain  the 
origin  of  this  mental  condition  or  form  of  thought  objectively, 
through  the  sense  of  sight,  but  only  to  say  this  much :  —  that  emidr- 
ical  space,  empirical  extension,  is  dependent  on  the  sense  of  sight, 
—  that,  allowing  space  or  extension,  as  a  form  of  thought,  to  be 
in  us,  were  there  even  nothing  correspondent  to  it  out  of  us,  still 
the  unknown  external  things  must  operate  upon  us,  an<l,  in  fact, 
through  the  sense  of  sight,  do  operate  upon  us,  if  this  unconscious 
form  is  to  be  brought  into  consciousness." 

And  after  some  other  observations  he  goes  on  :  "  In  regaid  t«>  the 
visionless  representation  of  space  or  extension,  —  the  attentive  ob- 
servation of  a  j)erso!i  born  blind,  which  I  formerly  instituted,  in  the 
year  1785,  and,  again,  in  relation  to  the  point  in  question,  have  con- 
tinued for  three  whole  weeks,  —  this  observation,  I  say,  has  con- 
vinced me,  that  the  sense  of  touch,  by  itself,  is  altogether  incompe- 
tent to  afford  us  the  representation  of  extension  and  space,  and  is 
not  even  cognizant  of  local  exteriority  (<>(  rfh'rhes  Ai/iieui(iit(f>r.f>i//i)^ 
in  a  word,  that  a  man  deprived  of  sight  has  absolutely  no  i)erception 
of  an  outer  world,  beyond  the  existence  of  something  effective,  dif- 
ferent from  his  own  feeling  of  jiassivity,  and  in  general  only  of  the 
numerical  diversity,  —  shall  I  say  of  impressions,  or  of  things?     In 


390  METAPHYSICS 


Lect.  XXVUI 


fact,  to  those  born  blind,  time  serves  instead  of  space.  Vicinity  and 
distance  means  in  their  mouths  notliing  more  than  the  shorter  or 
longer  time,  the  smaller  or  greater  number  of  feelings,  which  they 
find  necessary  to  attain  from  some  one  feeling  to  some  other.  That 
a  person  blind  from  birth  employs  the  language  of  vision,  —  that 
may  occasion  consider.a1>le  error,  and  did,  indeed,  at  the  commence- 
ment of  my  observations,  lead  me  wrong ;  but,  in  point  of  fact,  he 
knows  nothing  of  things  as  existing  out  of  each  other;  and  (this 
in  particular  I  have  very  clearly  remarked),  if  objects,  and  the  parts 
of  his  body  touched  by  them,  did  not  make  diiferent  kinds  of  im- 
pression on  his  nerves  of  sensation,  he  would  take  everything  exter- 
nal for  one  and  the  same.  In  his  own  body  he  absolutely  did  not 
discriminate  head  and  foot  at  all  by  their  distance,  but  merely  by  the 
diiference  of  the  feelings  (and  his  perception  of  such  difference  was 
incredibly  fine),  which  he  experienced  from  the  one  and  from  the 
other;  and,  moreover,  through  time.  In  like  manner,  in  external 
bodies,  he  distinguished  their  figure  merely  by  the  varieties  of  im- 
pressed feelings ;  inasmuch,  for  example,  as  the  cube,  by  its  angles, 
affected  his  feeling  differently  from  the  sphei-e.  Xo  one  can  con- 
ceive how  deceptive  is  the  use  of  language  accommodated  to  vision. 
When  my  acute  antagonist  appeals  to  Cheselden's  case,  which  proves 
directly  the  reverse  of  Avhat  it  is  adduced  to  refute,  he  does  not  con- 
sider that  the  first  visual  impressions  Avhich  one  born  blind  receives 
after  couching,  do  not  constitute  vision.  For  the  very  reason,  that 
space  and  extension  are  empirically  only  possible  through  a  percep- 
tion of  sight,  —  for  that  very  reason,  must  such  a  patient,  after  his 
eyes  are  freed  from  the  cataract,  first  learn  to  live  in  space ;  if  he 
could  do  this  previously,  then  M'ould  not  the  distant  seem  to  him 
near,  —  the  separate  would  not  appear  to  him  as  one.  These  are 
the  grounds  which  make  it  impossible  for  me  to  believe  empirical 
space  in  a  blind  person ;  and  from  these  I  infer,  that  this  form  of 
sensibility,  as  Mr.  Kant  calls  it,  and  which,  in  a  certain  signification, 
may  very  properly  be  styled  a  pure  representation,  cannot  come 
into  consciousness  otherwise  than  througli  the  medium  of  our  visual 
perception  ;  without,  however,  denying  that  it  is  something  merely 
subjective,  or  affirming  that  sight  affords  anything  similar  to  this 
kind  of  representation.  The  example  of  blind  geometers  would 
likewise  argue  nothing  against  me,  even  if  the  geometers  had  been 
born  blind ;  and  this  they  were  not,  if,  even  in  their  early  infancy, 
they  had  seen  a  single  extended  object."  ' 

To  what  Platner  has  here   stated  I  Avould  add,  froin  personal 

1  Philosophiiche  Aphorismen,  vol.  i.  §  765,  p.  439  et  seq  ,  edit  1793  —  Ed. 


Lect.  xxviit.  mi:t  a  physics.  891 

experiment,  and  obseivatiou  upon  others,  that  if  any  one  who  is  not 

blind  will  go  into  a  room  of  an  unusual  shape, 
rhienon.e,mti.at  fa-       ^^.jj^jK.  uulcnown  to  him,  and  into  which  no  rav 

vor  Platuer's  doctrine.  .         n  t  i 

of  light  is  allowed  to  penetrate,  he  may  grope 
about  for  hours,  —  he  may  touch  and  manipulate  every  side  and 
corner  of  it;  still,  notwithstanding  every  endeavor,  —  notwithstand- 
ing all  the  previous  subsidiary  notions  he  brings  to  the  task,  he 
will  be  unable  to  form  any  correct  idea  of  the  room.  In  like  man- 
ner, a  blind-folded  ])erson  will  make  the  most  curious  mistakes  in 
regard  to  the  figure  of  objects  presented  to  him,  if  these  are  of  any 
considerable  circumference.  But  if  the  sense  of  touch  in  such  favor- 
able circumstances  can  effect  so  little,  how  much  less  could  it  afford 
Tis  any  knowledge  of  forms,  if  the  assistance  which  it  here  brings 
with  it  from  uur  visual  concei)tions,  Avere  wholly  wanting? 

This  view  is,  I  think,  strongly  confirmed  by  the  famous  case  of  a 

young  gentleman,  blind  from  birth,  couched  by 
Supported  also  by       Chesclden  ;  —  u  case  remarkable  for  being  per- 

Cheselden's     case     of  i     .i     ^  •  i  •    i    .^i  ^  x 

^^j^.   ^  haps,  of  those  cured,  that  m  wliich  the  cataract 

was  most  jicrfect  (it  only  allowed  of  a  distinc- 
tion of  light  and  darkness)  ;  an<l,  at  the  same  time,  in  which  the 
])ha'nomena  have  been  most  distinctly  described.  In  this  latter 
i'esi)ect,  it  is,  however,  very  deficient ;  and  it  is  saying  but  little  in 
favor  of  the  philosoi)hical  acumen  of  medical  men,  that  the  narra- 
tive of  this  case,  with  all  its  faults,  is,  to  the  present  moment,  the 
one  most  to  be  relied  on. ' 

Now  I  contend  (thougli  I  am  aware  I  have  high  authority  against 
me),  that  if  a  blind  man  had  been  able  to  form  a  conception  of  a 
square  or  globe  by  mere  touch,  he  would,  on  first  perceiving  them 
by  sight,  be  able  to  discriminate  them  from  each  other;-  for  this 
><up]»oses  only  that  he  had  ac(piired  the  jjrimary  notions  of  a  straight 
and  of  a  curved  line.  Again,  if  touch  afforded  us  the  notion  of 
space  or  extension  in  general,  the  patient,  on  obtaining  sight,  would 
certainly  be  al»le  to  conceive  the  ])0ssibility  of  space  or  extension 
beyond  the  actual  boundary  of  his  vision.  But  of  both  of  these 
€heselden's  patient  was  found  incapable.  As  it  is  a  celebrated  case, 
I  shall  quote  to  you  a  few  ])assages  in  illustration:  you  will  find  it 
nt  large  in  the  Philosophicul  'Trdnsactions  for  the  year  172S. 

'•  Tliough  we  say  of  this  gentleman,  that  he  was  blind,"  observes 
Mr.  Cheselden,  "as  we  do  of  all  i)eoplo  who  have  ripe  cataracts;  yet 

1  See  Niiniieley,  On  the  Orsana  of  Vhinn,  p.  2  On  this  quesfion.  see  Locke,  Rtay  "n  J*^ 

31  (1S;J8),  for  a  recent  case  of  coucliina  witli       Human  I'nilfntnwlins.u.'^.  ami  Sir.  W.  Manv 
careful  observations.  —  Ed.  iltou'u  note,  Rtid't  Works,  p.  137.— Kd 


S92  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXVIIl. 

they  arc  never  so  blind  from  that  cause  but  that  they  can  discern 

day   from  nic^lit :   and   for  the   most    part,  in  a 

Cheselden  quoted.  "'         ,.    i         n-     •  •  ,    n      ,         ,.  .  , 

strong  Jight,  distniguish  black,  white,  and  scarlet  ^ 
but  they  cannot  perceive  the  shape  of  anything ;  for  the  light  by 
which  these  percej^tions  are  made,  being  let  in  obliquely  through  the 
aqueous  humor,  or  the  anterior  surface  of  the  crystalline  (l)y  which 
the  rays  cannot  be  brought  into  a  focus  upon  the  retina),  they  can 
discern  in  no  other  manner  than  a  sound  eye  can  through  a  glass 
of  broken  jelly,  where  a  great  variety  of  surfaces  so  differently 
refract  the  light,  that  the  several  distinct  pencils  of  rays  cannot  be 
collected  by  the  eye  into  their  proper  foci ;  wherefore  the  shape  of 
an  object  in  such  a  case  cannot  be  at  all  discerned,  though  the  color 
may ;  and  thus  it  v.'as  with  this  young  gentleman,  who,  though  he 
knew  those  colors  asunder  in  a  good  light,  yet  when  he  saw  them 
after  he  was  couched,  the  faint  ideas  he  had  of  them  before  were  not 
sufficient  for  him  to  know  them  by  afterwards ;  and  therefore  he 
did  not  think  them  the  same  Avhich  he  had  before  known  by  those 
names." 

sif  ^If  sfc  jAc  sfe  ^ic 

"When  he  first  saw,  he  was  so  far  from  making  any  judgment 
about  distances,  that  he  thought  all  objects  whatever  touched  his 
eyes  (as  he  expressed  it)  as  what  he  felt  did  his  skin ;  and  thought 
no  objects  so  agreeable  as  those  Avhich  were  smooth  and  regular^ 
though  he  could  form  no  judgment  of  their  shape,  or  guess  what  it 
was  in  any  object  that  was  pleasing  to  him.  He  knew  not  the  shape 
of  anythmg,  nor  any  one  thing  from  another,  however  different  in 
sliape  or  magnitude :  but  upon  being  told  what  things  were,  whose 
form  he  before  knew  from  feeling,  he  Avould  carefully  observe,  that 
he  might  know  them  again ;  but  having  too  many  objects  to  learn  at 
once,  he  forgot  many  of  them ;  and  (as  he  said)  at  first  learned  to- 
know,  and  again  foi'got  a  thousand  things  in  a  day.  One  pailicular 
only  (though  it  may  appear  trifiing)  I  will  relate :  Having  often  for- 
got which  was  the  cat,  and  which  the  dog,  he  was  ashamed  to  ask ;, 
but  catching  the  cat  (which  he  knew  by  feeling)  he  was  observed  to 
look  at  her  steadfastly,  and  then  setting  her  down,  said,  '  So,  puss !  I 
shall  know  you  another  time.'  " 

****** 

"We  thought  he  soon  knew  what  pictures  represented  which  were 
showed  to  him,  but  we  found  afterwards  we  were  mistaken ;  for 
.nbout  two  months  after  he  was  couched,  he  discovered  at  once  they 
rei)resented  solid  bodies,  when,  to  that  time,  he  considered  them  only 
as  paiti-colored  plains,  or  surtlices  diversified  with  variety  of  paints; 
but  even  then  he  was  no  less  surprised,  expecting  the  pictures  would 


Lect.  XXVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  SO^i 

feel  like  the  things  they  represented,  and  was  amazed  when  he  found 
those  parts,  which  by  their  light  and  shadow  appeared  now  round 
and  uneven,  felt  only  flat  like  the  rest ;  and  asked  which  was  the 
lying  sense,  feeling  or  seeing."  ^ 

The  whole  of  this  matter  is  still  enveloped  in  great  uncertainty, 
and  I  should  be  sorry  either  to  dogmatize  myself,, 

The  Author  profes-       ^^,  ^^  advise  vou  to  form  anv  decided  opinion. 

868  no  decided  opinion  '  .  '  ,        ^  t^, 

on  the  question.  Without,  howcver,  gomg  the  length  of  Plainer, 

in  denying  the  possibility  of  a  geometer  blind 
from  birth,  we  may  allow  this,  and  yet  vindicate  exclusively  to  sight 
the  power  of  affording  us  our  empirical  notions  of  space.  Tlie 
explanation  of  this  supposes,  however,  an  acquaintance  with  the 
doctrine  of  pure  or  a  jyrlori  space  as  a  form  of  thought ;  it  must, 
therefore,  for  the  present  be  deferred. 

The  last  cpiestion  on  which  I  shall  touch,  and  with  which  I  shall 

conclude  the  consideration  of  Perception  in  gen- 

now  do  we  obtain       ^^.^j    J         ii,,„.  ,^^  .^.^  ^y^^^^^^  ^ur  knowledge  of 

our  knowledge  of  Vis-  it-  oti-  --i  •to 

uai  Distance'  ^  \i-:\v.\\  Distance  .■'     Is  this  original,  or  acquired? 

Visual  distance,  be-  With  regard  to  the  method  by  which  we  judge 

fore  Berkeley,  regard-       ^f  distance,  it  was  formerly  supposed  to  depend 

ed  as  an  original  per-  .    .       ,  ,  .      '  ^-^    ^-  t  j. 

upon  an  oriLTinal  law  or  the  constitution,  and  to 

ception.  1  -^  ' 

be  independent  of  any  knowledge  gained  through 

the  medium  of  the  external  senses.  This  opinion  was  attacked  by 
Berkeley  in  his  Neic  Theory  of  Vision^  one  of  the  finest  examples, 
as  Dr.  Smith  justly  observes,  of  philosophical  analysis  to  be  found  in 
our  own  or  in  any  other  language ;  and  in  which  it  appears  most 
clearly  demonstrated,  that  our  whole  information  on  this  subject  is 
acquired  by  experience  and  association.  This  conclusion  is  supported 
by  many  circumstances  of  frequent  occurrence,  in  which  we  fall  into 
the  greatest  mistakes  with  resj)ect  to  the  distance  of  objects,  when 
we  form  our  judgment  solely  from  the  visible  impression  made  upon 
the  retina,  without  attending  to  the  other  circumstances  which  ordi- 
narily direct  us  in  forming  our  conclusions.  It  also  obtains  confirma- 
tion from  the  case  of  Cheseldcn,  w  hidi  1  have  alicady  (pioted.  It 
clearly  appears  that,  in  the  first  instance  the  patient  had  no  correct 
ideas  of  distance ;  and  we  are  expressly  told  that  he  supposed  all 
objects  to  touch  the  eye,  until  he  learned  to  correct  his  visible,  by 
means  of  his  tangible,  impressions,  and  thus  gradually  to  actpiiro 
more  correct  notions  of  the  situation  of  surrounding  bodies  with 
respect  to  his  own  pcison. 

1  See  Adnni   Sniitlis  Essays  on    Philosophical  Siil^Jeets.      [Pp.  294,  295.  29(3,  edit.  1800.     Cf 

R»'i(l'.<  Il'orAv,  iiiiti'.  ji.  137  —  KlJ.] 

50 


394  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXYIII. 

On  the  hypothesis  th:it  our  ideas  of  distance  arc  acquired,  it  re- 
mains  lor  us   to  investigate   the   circumstances 

Circumstances  which  which  assist  US  in  forming  our  judgment  respect- 
assist  us  in  forming  -  ^,^^,,^^  y^^  g,,,^jl  g^^^^  ^j^^^  ^j^^  ^^  ^^_ 
our  judgme'nt  respect-                         ,                                                                         ^           j 

ing  visual  distance  de-  ^uged  under  two  heads,  some  of  them  depend- 
pend,  1.  On  certain  ing  Upon  certain  states  of  the  eye  itself,  and  oth- 
etates  of  the  eye.  ers  upou  various   accidents   tliat   occur   in   the 

appearance  of  the  objects.  With  respect  to  dis- 
tances that  are  so  sliort  as  to  require  the  adjustment  of  the  eye  in 
■order  to  obtain  distinct  vision,  it  appears  tluit  a  certain  vohmtary 
<jftoi-t  is  necessary  to  pi-oduce  the  desired  effect :  this  eifort,  whatever 
may  be  its  nature,  causes  a  corresponding  sensation,  the  amount  of 
Avhich  we  learn  by  experience  to  appreciate ;  and  thus,  through  the 
medium  of  association,  we  acquire  the  jwwer  of  estimating  the  dis- 
tance with  sufficient  accui-acy. 

When  objects  are  placed  at  only  a  moderate  distance,  but  not  such 
ns  to  require  the  adjustment  of  the  eye,  in  directing  the  two  eyes  to 
the  object  we  incline  them  inwards ;  as  is  the  case  likewise  with  very 
short  distances:  so  that  what  are  termed  the  axes  of  the  eyes,  if  pro- 
duced, Avould  make  an  angle  at  the  object,  the  angle  varying  inversely 
as  the  distance.  Here,  as  in  tne  former  case,  we  have  cei-tain  percep- 
tions excited  by  the  muscular  efforts  necessary  to  produce  a  proper 
inclination  of  the  axes,  and  these  we  learn  to  associate  with  certain 
distances.  As  a  proof  tliat  this  is  the  mode  by  which  we  judge  of 
those  distances  where  the  optic  axes  form  an  appreciable  angle,  when 
the  eyes  are  both  directed  to  the  same  object,  while  the  effort  of 
adjustment  is  not  perceptible,  —  it  has  been  remarked,  that  persons 
wiio  are  deprived  of  the  sight  of  one  eye^  are  incapable  of  forming 
a  correct  judgment  in  this  case. 

When  we  are  required  to  judge  of  still  greater  distances,  where 
the  object  is  so  remote  as  that  the  axes  of  the 

2.  On  certain  cniuii-         ^  ,,    ,  ,  ■•  , 

„ .,     , .   ,  two  eyes  are  parallel,  we  are  no  longer  able  to 

tions  (if  tlie  object.  . 

form  our  opinion  from  any  sensation  in  the  eye 
itself.  In  this  case,  Ave  have  recourse  to  a  variety  of  circumstances 
connected  Avith  the  appearance  of  the  object ;  for  example,  its  ajjpar- 
€nt  size,  the  distinctness  with  Avhich  it  is  seen,  the  vividness  of  its 
colors,  the  numV>er  of  intervening  objects,  and  other  similar  acci- 
dents, all  of  which  obviously  depend  upon  previous  experience,  and 
which  we  are  in  the  habit  of  associating  with  different  distances, 
■without,  in  each  particular  case,  investigating  the  cause  on  which  our 
judgment  is  founded. 

The  conclusions  of  science  seem  in  this  case  to  be  decisive ;  and 
yet  the  whole  question  is  thrown  into  doubt  by  the  analogy  of  the 


lkct.  xxvm. 


METAPHYSICS. 


395 


Berkeley's  proof 
thrown  into  doubt  by 
the  analogy  of  the 
lower  animals. 


lower  animals.  If  in  man  the  perception  of  distance  be  not  origi- 
nal but  accpiired,  the  perception  of  distance  must 
be  also  acquired  by  them.  But  as  this  is  not  the 
case  in  regard  to  animals,  this  confirms  the  rea- 
soning of  those  who  would  explain  the  percep- 
tion of  distance  in  man,  as  an  original,  not  as  an 

acquired,  knowledge.     That  the  Berkeleian  doctrine  is  opposed  by 

the  analogy  of  the  lower  animals,  is  admitted  by  one  of  its  most 

intelligent  supporters,  —  Dr.  Adam  Smith.  ^ 

"  That,  antecedent  to  all  experience,"  says  Smith,  "  the  young  of 
at  least  the  greater  part  of  animals  possess  some 

Adam  Smith  quoted.         ...  ^.  /•  ^i  •      i  •     i  i 

mstmctive  perception  ot  this  kind,  seems  abun- 
<lantly  evident.  The  hen  never  feeds  her  young  by  dropping  the 
food  into  their  bills,  as  the  linnet  and  the  thrush  feed  theirs.  Almost 
ns  soon  as  her  chickens  are  hatched,  she  does  not  feed  them,  but  car- 
ries them  to  the  field  to  feed,  where  they  walk  about  at  their  ease, 
it  would  seem,  and  appear  to  liave  the  most  distinct  perception  of 
all  the  tangible  objects  wiiich  surround  them.  We  may  often  see 
then.,  accordingly,  by  the  straightest  road,  run  to  and  pick  up  any 
little  grains  which  she  shows  them,  even  at  the  distance  of  several 
yards;  and  they  no  sooner  come  into  the  light  than  they  seem  to 
understand  this  language  of  Vision  as  well  as  they  ever  do  afterwards. 
The  young  of  the  partridge  and  the  grouse  seem  to  have,  at  the  same 
■early  period,  the  most  distinct  perceptions  of  the  same  kind.  Tiie 
young  partridge,  almost  as  soon  as  it  comes  from  the  shell,  runs 
About  among  long  grass  and  corn,  the  young  grouse  among  long 
heath  ;  and  would  both  most  essentially  hurt  themselves  if  they  had 
not  the  most  acute  as  well  as  distinct  perception  of  the  tangible 
objects  which  not  only  surround  them  but  press  upon  them  on  all 
sides.  This  is  the  case,  too,  with  the  young  of  the  goose,  of  the 
<l!ick,.and,  so  far  as  I  have  been  able  to  observe,  with  those  of  at 
least  the  greater  part  of  the  l>irds  which  make  their  nests  upon  the 
ground,  with  tlie  greater  pari  of  those  which  are  ranked  by  LimuT?us 
in  the  orders  of  the  hen  rnd  tlie  goose,  and  of  many  of  those  long- 
shanked  and  wading  birds  whicli  he  places  in  the  order  that  he  dis- 
tiuLjuishes  bv  tlie  name  of  (rialla'. 


"It  seems  difficult  to  suppose  that  man  is  the  only  animal  of  which 
the  young  are  not  endowed  with  some  instinctive  perception  of  this 

kiii.l.  The  Adung  of  tlie  Imiuaii  species,  however,  continue  so  long 
in  a  state  of  entire  dependency,  they  must  be  so  long  carried  about 
in  the  arms  of  their  mothers  or  of  their  nurses,  that  such   an  iustino 


1  See  R-isnys  —  O/tIf  External  Senses,  p.  299—304.  edit.  1800.  —  Ed. 


396 


M  E  f  A  P  H  Y  S  I C  S . 


Lect.  XXV  111 


tive  perception  may  seem  less  necessary  to  them  than  to  any  other 
race  of  animals.  Before  it  Could  be  of  any  use  to  them,  observation 
and  experience  may,  by  the  known  principle  of  the  association  of 
ideas,  have  sufficiently  connected  in  theii-  young  minds  each  visible 
object  with  the  corresponding  tangible  one  which  it  is  fitted  to  rep- 
resent. Nature,  it  may  be  said,  never  bestows  upon  any  animal  any 
ficulty  Avhich  is  not  either  necessary  or  useful,  and  an  instinct  of  this 
kind  would  be  altogether  useless  to  an  animal  which  must  necessarilv 
acquire  the  knowledge  which  the  instinct  is  given  to  supply,  long 
before  that  instinct  could  be  of  any  use  to  it.  Children,  however^ 
appear  at  so  very  early  a  period  to  know  the  distance,  the  shape,  and 
magnitude  of  the  different  tangible  objects  which  are  presented  ta 
them,  that  I  am  disposed  to  believe  that  even  they  may  have  some 
instinctive  perception  of  this  kind  ;  though  possil)ly  in  a  much  weaker 
degree  than  the  greater  part  of  other  animals.  A  child  that  is 
scarcely  a  month  old,  stretches  out  its  hands  to  feel  any  little  play- 
thing that  is  presented  to  it.  It  distinguishes  its  nurse,  and  the  other 
people  who  are  much  about  it,  from  strangers.  It  clings  to  the  for- 
mer, and  turns  away  from  the  latter.  Hold  a  small  looking-glass 
before  a  child  of  not  more  than  two  or  three  months  old,  and  it  will 
stretch  out  its  little  arms  behind  the  glass,  in  order  to  feel  the  child 
which  it  sees,  and  which  it  imagines  is  at  the  back  of  the  glass.  It 
is  deceived,  no  doubt ;  but  even  this  sort  of  deception  sufficiently 
demonstrates  that  it  has  a  tolerably  distinct  apprehension  of  the 
ordinary  perspective  of  Vision,  which  it  cannot  well  have  learnt  from 
observation  and  experience." 


LECTURE    XXIX. 

THE    PRESENTATIVE    FACULTY. 

II.    SELF-COXSCIOUSNESS. 

Having,  in  our  last  Lecture,  concluded  the  consideration  of  Exter- 
,    .  nal  Perception,  I  may  now  briefly  recapitulate 

Becapitulatiou.  .  „  ,.  .  .         , 

Principal  points  of  Certain  rcsults  or  the  discussion,  and  state  ni  what 
difference  between  the  principal  respects  the  doctrine  I  would  maintain, 
Author's  doctrine  of      diffei-g  iVom  that  of  Reid  and  Stewart,  whom  I 

rerception,  and   that  ,  ^      i     i  i    •  i-^       ^i  ^  i.> 

of  Reid  and  Stewart.        suppose  always  to  hold,  in  reality,  the  system  ot 

an  Intuitive  Perception. 
In  the  first  place,  —  in  regard  to  the  relation  of  the  external  object 
to  the  senses.     The  general  doctrine  on  this  sub- 
1.  In  regard  to  the      jj.^^^^  jj^  ^1,,,^  given  by  Reid  :  "  A  law  of  our  nature 

relation  of  the  exter-        '  ,.  .^•'       •       .1     ^  •  ^ 

,    ..   ,,    ,,  recrardini?  ix'rception  is,  tliat  we  perceive  no  ob- 

nal  object  to  the  sen-  ^  ■-    *  '     _  '      _  ^       "^ 

ject,  unless  some  impression  is  made  upon  the 


«es 


organ  of  sense,  either  by  the  immediate  applica- 
tion of  the  obji'ct,  or  by  some  medium  which  passes  between  the 
object  and  the  organ.  In  two  of  our  senses,  viz..  Touch  and  Taste, 
there  must  be  an  immediate  ai)))lication  of  the  object  to  the  organ. 
In  the  other  three,  the  object  is  perceived  at  a  distance,  but  still  by 
means  of  a  ni('(lium,  by  which  some  impression  is  made  U])on  the 
organ."  ' 

Now  this,  I  sliowod  you,  is  incorrect.  The  only  object  over  {per- 
ceived is  the  object  in  immediate  contact,  —  in  immediate  relation, 
with  the  organ.  What  Reid,  and  philosophers  in  general,  call  the 
distant  object,  is  wholly  unknown  to  Perception  ;  by  reasoning  we 
may  connect  the  object  perceived  with  certain  antecedents,  —  certain 
causes;  but  these,  as  the  result  of  an  inference,  cannot  be  the  objects 
of  percejition.  Tl:e  only  objects  of  ))erception  are  in  all  the  senses 
equally  immediate.  Thus  the  ol)ject  of  my  vision  at  present  is  not 
the  paper  or  letters  at  a  foot  from  my  eye,  but  the  rays  of  light  re- 
flected from  these  upon  the  retina.     The  object  of  your  liearing  is 

1  Inteliectnal  Powers,  Essay  ii.  c.  ii.    [  Works,  p.  247.  —  Ed.] 


398  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIX. 

not  the  vibrations  of  ray  larynx,  nor  the  vibrations  of  the  interven- 
ing air ;  but  the  vibrations  determined  thereby  in  the  cavity  of  the 
internal  ear,  and  in  immediate  contact  with  the  auditory  nerves.  In 
both  senses,  the  external  object  perceived  is  the  last  effect  of  a  series 
of  unperceived  causes.  But  to  call  these  unperceived  causes  the 
ohjert  of  perception,  and  to  call  the  perceived  effect,  —  the  real 
object,  only  the  iiiediuni  of  perception,  is  either  a  gross  error  or  an  . 

unwarrantable  abuse  of  language.      My  conclu- 
in  all  the  senses,  the       gion  is,  tlierefore,  that,  in  all  the  senses,  the  ex- 

external  object  In  con-  ....  •  i       i  t 

tact  with  the  organ.  Vernal  objcct  IS  m  contact  with  the  organ,  and 

thus,  in  a  certain  signification,  all  the  senses  are 

only  modifications  of  Touch.     Tliis  is  the  simple  fact,  and  any  other 

statement  of  it  is  either  the  effect  or  the  cause  of  misconception. 

In  the  second  place,  —  in  relation  to  tlie  number  and  consecutimi 

of  the  elementary  phaenomena, — it  is,  and  must 

2.  In  regard  to  the       \^^^  adtnitted,  on  all  hands,  that  perception  must 

number  and  consecu-         ,  tit  •  •  c  ^\  ^  ^ 

,     ,        ^  be  preceded   bv  an  impression   oi  tlie  external 

tion  ot  the  elementary  i  -  _'■ 

phenomena.  objcct  on  the  scnsc ;  in  other  words,  that  the 

material  reality  and  the  organ  must  be  brought 
into  contact,  previous  to,  and  as  the  condition  of,  an  act  of  this  fac- 
ulty. On  tliis  point  there  can  be  no  dispute.  But  the  case  is  differ- 
ent in  regard  to  tlie  two  following.  It  is  asserted  by  philosophers  in 
general :  —  1°.  That  tne  impression  made  on  the  organ  must  be  propa- 
gated to  the  brain,  before  a  cognition  of  the  object 
Common  doctrine  of      I'^^t^^  place  in  the  mind, — in  other  words,  that 

philosophers      regard-  .  ..  ,  t  -\     -\    .  • 

:      ,,  .    .  an  orsxanjc  action  must  precede  and  determine 

lug    the    organic    im-  . 

pression.  the  intellectual  action  ;  and,  2°.  Tliat  Sensation 

Proper  pi-ecedes  Perception  Proper.  In  regard 
to  the  former  assertion,  —  if  by  this  were  only  meant,  that  the  mind 
does  not  perceive  external  objects  out  of  relation  to  its  bodily  organs, 
ami  that  the  relation  of  the  object  to  the  organism,  as  the  condition 
of  perception,  must,  therefore,  in  the  order  of  nature,  be  viewed  as 

prior  to  the  cognition  of  that  relation, — no  ob- 
respec  in-       jpc^ion  could  be  made  to  the  statement.     But  if 

accurate.  ... 

it  be  intended,  as  it  seems  to  be,  that  the  organic 
affection  precedes  in  the  order  of  time  the  intellectual  cognition,  — 
of  this  we  have  no  proof  whatever.  The  fact  as  stated  w'ould  be 
inconsistent  with  the  doctrine  of  an  intuitive  perception ;  for  if  the 
organic  affection  were  clironologically  prior  to  the  act  of  knowledge, 
the  immediate  perception  of  an  object  different  from  our  bodily 
senses  would  be  impossible,  and  the  extei'nal  Avorld  would  thus  be 
represented  only  in  the  subjective  affections  of  our  own  organism. 
It  is,  therefore,  more   correct  to   hold,  that   the   corporeal  move- 


Lect.  XXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  39& 

raent  and  llie  mental  perception  are  simultaneous ;  and  in  place  of 
holding  that  the  intellectual  action  commences  after  the  bodily  has 
terminated,  —  in  place  of  holding  tliat  the  mind  is  connected  with 
the  body  only  at  the  central  extremity  of  the  nervous  system,  it  ia 
more  simple  and  philosophical  to  suppose  that  it  is  united  Avith  the 
nervous  system  in  its  whole  extent.  The  mode  of  this  union  is  of 
course  inconceivable :  but  the  latter  hypotliesis  of  union  is  not  more 
inconceivable  than  the  former ;  and,  while  it  has  the  testimony  of 
consciousness  in  its  favor,  it  is  otherwise  not  obnoxious  to  many  seri- 
ous objections  to  wliich  the  other  is  exposed. 

In  regard  to  the  latter  assertion,  —  \iz.,  that  a  perception  jiroper 

is  always  preceded  by  a  sensation  proper,  —  this, 

Relation  of  Sensa-       though  maintained  bv  Reid  and  Stewart,  is  even 

tion  proper  to  rercep-  •,.       i 

tion  proper.  more  mamtestly  erroneous  tlian  the  lormer  asser- 

tion, touching  the  precedence  of  an  organic  to  a 
mental  action.  In  summing  up  Reid's  doctrine  of  Percejition,  Mi-. 
Stewart  says :  "  To  what  does  the  statement  of  Reid  amount  ? 
Merely  to  this :  that  the  mind  is  so  formed,  that  certain  impressions 
produced  on  our  organs  of  sense  by  external  objects,  are  followed  by 
correspondent  sensations ;  and  that  these  sensations  (which  liave  no 
more  resemblance  to  the  qualities  of  matter,  than  the  words  of  a 
language  have  to  the  things  they  denote)  are  followed  by  a  percep- 
tion of  tlie  existence  and  (pialities  of  the  bodies  by  which  the  impres- 
sions are  made."  ^  You  will  iind  in  Reid's  own  works  expressions 
which,  if  taken  literally,  would  make  us  believe  that  he  held  percep- 
tion to  be  a  mere  inference  from  sensation.  Thus :  "  Observing  that 
the  agreeable  sensation  is  raised  when  the  rose  is  near,  and  ceases 
when  it  is  removed,  I  am  le<l,  by  my  nature,  to  conclude  .some  qual- 
ity to  be  in  the  rose,  which  is  tlie  cause  of  this  sensation.  This 
quality  in  the  rose  is  tlie  object  perceived  ;  and  that  act  of  my  mind, 
by  which  I  have  the  cimviction  and  belief  of  this  quality,  is  wliat  in 
this  case  I  call  perception."  -  I  have,  liowever,  had  frequent  occasion 
to  show  you  that  we  must  not  always  iMtei})ret  Reid's  expressions 
very  rigorously  ;  and  we  are  often  obliged  to  save  his  philosophy 
from  the  consecpieiices  of  his  own  loose  and  ambiguous  language.  In 
the  present  instance,  if  Reid  were  taken  at  his  word,  his  perception 
would  be  only  an  instinctive  belief,  conse<pient  on  a  sensation,  that 
there  is  some  unknown  external  quality  the  cau.se  of  the  sensation. 
Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  there  is  no  more  ground  for  hohling  that 
sensation  precedes  perception,  than  tor  holding  that  perception  pre- 
cedes sensation.  In  fact,  both  exist  only  as  tliey  coe.vist.  They  do 
not  indeed  alwavs  coexist  in  the  same  detjree  of  intensifv,  but  thev 

I  Elfmfttts,  vol.  I.  c.  ii   §  3.    WorKs^  vol.  ii.  jt.  111.        -  Intrlt,  Powers,  Essay  ii.  c  xvi.    Works,  p.  310 


400  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XXIX. 

are  equally  original ;  and  it  is  only  by  an  act,  not  of  the  easiest  ab- 
straction, tliat  we  are  able  to  discriminate  them  scientifically  from 
each  other.^ 

So  much  for  the  first  of  the  two  faculties  by  which  we  acquire 
knowledge, — the  fiiculty  of  External  Perception. 

The  faculty  of  Self-         ™i  i      ^^i  j?        i..-       •     o    li" 

,,  1  he  second  or  these  laculties  IS  beli-consciousness, 

Consciousness.  ' 

wliich  has  likewise  received,  among  others,  the 
name  of  Internal  or  Reflex  Perception.  This  faculty  will  not  occupy 
us  long,  as  the  principal  questions  regarding  its  nature  and  operation 
haAe  been  already  considered,  in  treating  of  Consciousness  in  gen- 
eral. - 

I  formerly  showed  you  that  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  Percep- 
tion, or  the  other  Special  Faculties,  from  Con- 

Seif-consciousness  a       sciousness, — in  Other  words,  to  reduce  Conscious- 
branch  of  the  I'resen-  .       ,  ,  •   ^    n       ^ 

tative Faculty.  "®^^   itscli   to   a   Special  faculty;   and   that  the 

attempt  to  do  so  by  the  Scottish  philosophers 
is  self-contradictory. ''  I  stated  to  you,  however,  that  though  it  be 
incompetent  to  establish  a  faculty  for  the  immediate  knowledge  of 
the  external  Avorld,  and  a  faculty  for  the  immediate  knowledge  of 
the  internal,  as  two  ultimate  powers,  exclusive  of  each  other,  and  not 
merely  subordinate  forms  of  a  higher  immediate  knowledge,  under 
which  they  are  comprehended  or  carried  up  into  one,  —  I  stated,  I 
say,  that  though  the  immediate  knowledges  of  matter  and  of  mind 
are  still  only  modifications  of  consciousness,  yet  that  their  discrimi- 
nation, as  subaltern  faculties,  is  both  allowable  and  convenient.  Ac- 
cordingly, in  the  scheme  which  I  gave  you  of  the  distribution  of 
Consciousness  into  its  special  modes,  —  I  distinguished  a  faculty  of 
External,  and  a  faculty  of  Iiitei-nal,  Apprehension,  constituting  to- 
gether a  more  general  modification  of  consciousness,  which  I  called 
the  Acquisitive  or  Presentative  or  Receptive  Faculty. 

In  regard  to  Self-consciousness,  —  the  faculty  of  Internal  Experi- 
ence, —  philosophers  have  been  far  more  harmo- 
Phiiosophers  less  (li-       nious  thaii  iu  regard  to  External  Perception.     In 
vided  in  their  opin-       ^^^.^^  ^j^^jj.  ("jiiferences  toucliing  this  faculty  origi- 

ions     touching     Self-  ,  .        ,  ,  .       .   .  ^         „  ,  ., 

.,      -         nate  rather  m  the  ambiguities  oi  language,  and 

consciousness  than  in  •'•■^^    i.»^    <^  -,  q       _,    , 

regard  to  Perception.        the  difl:erent  meanings  attached  to  the  same  form 

of  expression,  than  in  any  fundamental  opposition 
of  opinion  in  regard  to  its  reality  and  nature.  It  is  admitted  equally 
by  all  to  exist  and  to  exist  as  a  source  of  knowledge  ;  and  the  sup- 
posed differences  of  philosophers  in  this  respect,  are,  as  I  shall  show 
you,  mere  errors  in  the  historical  statement  of  their  opinions. 

1  Compare  Reid's   Works,  Note  D*,   p.  882  2  See  above,  lect.  xi.  et  .w?.  — Ed. 

.(t  sffj  —  kd.  3  See  above,  lect  xiii.  p.  155,  ei  seq.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  401 

The  sphere  and  character  of  this  faculty  of  acquisition,  will  be 

best  illustrated  })y  contrasting  it  with  the  other. 

Self-consciousness       Perception  is  the  power  by  which  we  are  made 

contrasted  with  Per-       ^^^^^^  ^^  ^^^^  phenomena  of  the  external  world  ; 

caption.     1  liL'ir  funua-  '■ 

mental  ioinis.  Sclf-consciousncss  the  power  by  which  we  appre- 

hend the  phienomena  of  the  internal.  The  ob- 
jects of  tlie  former  are  all  presented  to  us  in  Space  and  Time;  space 
and  time  are  tlius  the  two  conditions,  —  the  two  fundamental  forms, 
of  external  percei)tion.  The  objects  of  the  latter  are  all  apprehended 
by  us  in  Time  and  in  Self;  time  and  self  are  thus  the  two  conditions, 
—  the  two  fundamental  forms,  of  Internal  Perception  or  Self-con- 
sciousness. Time  is  thus  a  form  or  condition  common  to  both  facul- 
ties ;  wliile  space  is  a  form  peculiar  to  the  one,  self  a  form  peculiar 

to  the  other.     What  I  mean  by  the  form  or  con- 
What  meant  by  the       ^^-^.^^  ^^,  .^  fiiculty,  is  that  frame,  —  that  setting 

form  of  a  faculty.  •"  .       ,  •    ,  >  • 

(if  I  may  so  speak),  out  of  which  no  object  can 
be  knovvn.  Thus  Ave  only  know,  through  Self-consciousness,  the 
phaenomena  of  the  internal  world,  as  modifications  of  the  indivisible 
ego  or  conscious  unit ;  we  only  know,  through  Perception,  the  phe- 
nomena of  the  external  world,  under  space,  or  as  modifications  of 
the  extended  and  divisible  non-ego  or  known  plurality.  That  the 
forms  are  native,  not  adventitious,  to  the  mind,  is  involved  in  their 
necessity.  "What  I  cannot  but  think,  must  be  a  jynori,  or  original 
to  thought ;  it  cannot  be  engendered  by  experience  uiwn  custom. 
But  this  is  not  a  subject  the  discussion  of  which  concerns  us  at 
l>resent. 

It  may  be  asked,  if  self  or  ego  be  the  form  of  Self-consciousness, 

why  is  tlio  not-self,  the  non-ego,  not  in  like  man- 

Olijection  obvintca.  ,i     i   ,,         r.  r-  ^-,  .•        o       T       .1  •     T 

ner  calliMl  the  form  ot  Perception.''  lo  tlus  i 
reply,  that  the  not-self  is  only  a  negation,  and,  though  it  discrimi- 
nates the  objects  of  the  external  cognition  from  those  of  the  inter- 
nal, it  does  not  afford  to  tlie  former  any  positive  bond  of  union 
among  themselves.  This,  on  the  contrary,  is  siipjilied  to  them  by 
the  form  of  sftace,  out  of  which  they  can  neither  be  perceived,  nor 
imagined  by  the  mind  ;  —  space,  therefore,  as  the  positive  condition 
under  which  the  non-eiro  is  necessarilv  known  and  imafjined,  and 
through  which  it  receives  its  unity  in  consciousness,  is  jiroperly  said 
to  afford  the  condition  or  form  of  External  Perception. 

But  a  more  important  question  maybe  started.  If  space,  —  if 
extension,  be  a  necessary  form  of  thought,  this,  it  may  be  argued, 
proves  th:it  the  mind  itself  is  extended.  The  reasoning  here  pro- 
ceeds upon  the  assumption,  that  the  qualities  of  the  subject  kuow- 

51 


402  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIX. 

mg  must  be  similar  to  the  qu:ilities  of  the  object  known.     Tliis,  as 

I  have  already  stated,  ^  is  a  mere  philosophical 

If  space  be  a  neces-       crotchet,  —  an    assumption   without   a    shadow 

sarj  oim  o     wug   ,       ^y^^  ^f  probability  in  its  favor.     That  the  mind 

IS  tlie  mind  jtself  ex-  ^  •'  ,    _ 

tended'  has  the  powcr  of  perceiving  extended  objects,  is 

no  ffround  for  holdins;  that  it  is  itself  extended. 
Still  less  can  it  be  maintained,  that  because  it  has  ideally  a  native  or 
necessary  conception  of  space,  it  must  really  occupy  space.  Nothing 
can  be  more  absurd.  On  this  doctrine,  to  exist  as  extended,  is  sup- 
posed necessary  in  order  to  think  extension.  But  if  this  analogy 
hold  good,  the  sphere  of  ideal  space  which  the  mind  can  imagine, 
ought  to  be  limited  to  the  sphere  of  real  space  which  the  mind 
actually  fills.  This  is  not,  however,  the  case ;  for  though  the  mind 
be  not  absolutely  unlimited  in  its  power  of  conceiving  space,  still 
the  compass  of  thought  may  be  viewed  as  infinite  in  this  respect,  as. 
contrasted  with  the  jjetty  point  of  extension,  which  the  advocates 
of  the  doctrine  in  question  allow  it  to  occupy  in  its  corporeal  dom- 
icile. 

The  faculty  of  Self-consciousness  affords  us  a  knowledge  of  the 
johrenomena  of  our  minds.     It  is  the  source  of 

The  sphere  of  Self-  jj^^crnal  experience.  You  will,  therefore,  ob- 
serve,  that,  like  External  Perception,  it  only 
furnishes  us  with  focts;  and  that  the  use  we  make  of  these  facts, 
' — that  is,  what  Ave  find  in  them,  what  we  deduce  from  them, — 
belongs  to  a  different  process  of  intelligence.  Self-consciousness 
affords  the  materials  equally  to  all  systems  of  i^hilosophy  ;  all  equally 
admit  it,  and  all  elaborate  the  materials  Avhich  this  faculty  supplies,. 
according  to  their  fashion.     And  here  I  may  merely  notice,  by  the 

Avay,  what,  in  treating  of  the  Regulative  Faculty, 

Two  modes  of  deal-       -will  fall  to  be  regularly  discussed,  that  these 
ing  witii  the  pha-nom-       ^         ^^^^^  materials,  may  be  considered  in  two 

ena  given  in  Self-cou-  •  1         x     t         •  1 

sciousness,  -  viz :  ei-  ways.  We  may  employ  either  Induction  alone,^ 
ther  by  Induction  or  also  Analysis.  If  we  merely  consider  the 
alone,  or  by  Indue-       phj^nomena  which  Self-consciousucss  reveals,  in 

tion  and  analysis  to-         '^  , 

ggtj,gr  relation  to  each  other, — merely  compare  them 

together,  and  generalize  the  qualities  Avliich  they 
display  in  common,  and  thus  arrange  them  into  classes  or  groups 
governed  by  the  same  laws,  we  perform  the  process  of  Induction. 
By  this  process  we  obtain  what  is  general,  but  not  Avhat  is  necessary. 
For  example,  having  observed  that  external  objects  presented  in 
perception  are  extended,  Ave  generalize  the  notion  of  extension  or 
space.     "We  have  thus  explained  the  possibility  of  a  conception  of 

1  See  above,  lect.  xxv.  351  et  seq.  —  Ed. 


) 


Lect.  XXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  408 

space,  but  only  of  space  as  a  general  and  contingent  notion ;  for  if 
we  hold  that  this  notion  exists  in  the  mind  only  as  the  result  of 
such  a  process,  Ave  must  hold  it  to  be  a  'posteriori  or  adventitious, 
and,  therefore,  contingent.  Sucli  is  the  process  of  Induction,  or  of 
Siin])]e  Observation.  The  other  process,  that  of  Analysis  or  Criti- 
cism, docs  not  rest  satisfied  with  this  comparison  and  generalization, 
which  it,  however,  sup|)oses.  It  ])roposes  not  merely  to  find  what 
is  general  in  the  pha3nomena,  but  what  is  necessary  and  universal. 
It,  accordingly,  takes  mental  phaenomena,  and,  by  abstraction, 
throws  aside  all  that  it  is  able  to  detach,  without  annihilating  the 
phoenomena  altogether,  —  in  sliort,  it  analyzes  thought  into  its  essen- 
tial or  necessary,  and  its  accidental  or  contingent,  elements. 

Thus,  from  Obseiwation  and  Induction,  we  discover  what  expe- 
rience affords  as  its  general  result;  fi'oju  Analysis 

The  spLere  of  Criti-  ^   f^   -i.-    •  t  i     j. 

^  and  Criticism,  we  discover  wliat  experience  sui)- 

cal  Analysis.  .  .   .  .  . 

poses  as  its  necessary  condition.  1  ou  will  notice, 
that  the  critical  analysis  of  which  I  noAv  speak,  is  limited  to  the 
objects  of  our  internal  observation;  for  in  the  phaenomena  of  mind 

alone  can  we  b»i  conscious  of  absolute  necessity. 
All  necessity  to  us       ^^^  necessity  is,  in  fact,  to  us  subjective ;  for  a 

subjective.  .  ,  .        ,,     .  .,  ,  , 

thing  is  conceived  impossible  only  as  we  are 
unable  to  construe  it  in  thought.  Whatever  does  uot  violate  the 
laws  of  thought,  is,  therefore,  not  to  us  impossible,  however  firmly 
we  may  believe  that  it  A\ill  not  occur.  For  example,  we  hold  it 
absolutely  impossible,  that  a  tiling  can  begin  to  be  without  a  cause. 
Whv?  Simplv  because  the  mind  cannot  realize  to  itself  the  con- 
ception  of  absolute  commencement.  That  a  stone  should  ascend 
into  the  air,  we  firmly  believe  will  never  happen;  but  we  fin<l  no 
difficulty  in  conceiving  it  ])Ossil)le.  "Why?  ^Merely  because  gravi- 
tation is  only  a  fact  generalized  by  iiuluetiou  and  observation;  and 
its  negation,  therefore,  violates  no  law  of  thought.  When  we  talk, 
therefore,  of  the  necessiti/  uf  any  external  jiluenomenon,  the  exjtres- 
sion  is  improper,  if  the  necessity  be  only  an  inference  of  induction, 
and  not  involved  in  any  canon  of  intelligence.  For  induction  jiroves 
to  us  only  wliat  is,  not  what  must  be,  —  the  actual,  not  the  necessary. 
The  two  ))rocesses  of  Induction  <»r  Observation,  and  of  Analysis 

or  Criticism,  have  been  variouslv  employed  by 
Historical  notice  of       ^YiiX<.'YL^iM  philosophers.     Lockc,  foV  instance,  lim'- 

till' ciiiiilDyincnt  i)f  flic  .  .  ,  . 

Inductive  uikI  Critical  1^*3(1  himself  to  the  former,  overlooking  alto- 
Mcthods   in   phiioso-       gethcr  the  latter.     lie,  accordingly,  iliscovered 

1'''^"  nothing  necessary,  or  a  priori,  in  the  jiha'uom- 

Locke.  ';  .  ,  .  'r       i  •  n 

ena    <^)f    our    internal    experience.        Ii>    Imn    all 

axioms  are  only  generalizations  of  experience.     In   this  respect   he 


404  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIX 

was  greatly  excelled  by  Descartes  and  Leibnitz.     The  latter,  indeed, 

was  the  philosoplier  who  clearly  enunciated  the 

Leibuitz  —the  first       pnnciplc,  thut   the   phaenomcnon  of  necessity, 

to  enounce  necessity       in  our  cognitions,  could  not  be  explained  on  the 

as  the  criterion    of       ground  of  experience.     "All  the  examples,"  he 

truth   native  to  the  "which  confimx  a  general  truth,  how  nu- 

mind.  •'  '^  _ 

merous  soever,  would  not  suffice  to  establish 
the  universal  necessity  of  this  same  truth  ;  for  it  does  not  follow, 
that  what  has  hitherto  occurred  will  always  occur  in  future."^  "If 
Locke,"  he  adds,  "had  sufficiently  considered  the  difference  between 
truths  which  are  necessary  or  demonstrative,  and  those  which  we 
infer  from  induction  alone,  he  would  have  perceived  that  necessary 
truths  could  only  be  proved  from  principles  Avhich  command  our 
assent  by  their  intuitive  evidence ;  inasmuch  as  our  senses  can 
inform  us  only  of  what  is,  not  of  what  must  necessarily  be." 
Leibnitz,  however,  was  not  himself  fully  aware  of  the  import  of 
the  principle,  —  at  least  he  failed  in  carrying  it  out  to  its  most 
important  applications ;  and  though  he  triumphantly  demonstrated, 

in  opposition  to  Locke,  the  a  ^^riori  character 
Kant, -the    first       ^f  many  of  those  cognitions  which  Locke  had 

■who  fully  applied  this  t      •        i     p  •  i        i    r>  x-" 

criterion.  derived  from  experience,  yet  he  left  to  Kant 

the  honor  of  havino;  been  the  first  who  fiillv 
applied  the  critical  analysis  in  the  jihilosophy  of  mind. 

The  faculty  of  Self-consciousness  corresponds  with   the  Reflec- 
tion of  Locke.    Now,  there  is  an  interesting  ques- 
Has  the  philosophy       tion  concerning  this  faculty,  —  whether  the  phi- 
of  Locke  been  mis-      losophy  of  Lockc  has  been  misapprehended  and 

represented    by    Con-  .  i    i        ^        th  i         ,  «   ,  . 

diiiac  and  other  of       misrepresented  by  Condillac,  and  other  of  his 
his  French  disciples?       French  disciplcs,  as  Mr.  Stewart  maintains;  or, 

whether  Mr.  Stewart  has  not  himself  attempted 
to  vindicate  the  tendency  of  Locke's  philosophy  on  grounds  which 
will  not  bear  out  his  conclusions.  Mr.  Stewart  has  canvassed  this 
point  at  considerable  length,  both  in  his  Essays^  and  in  his  Disser- 
tation on  the  Progress  of  3Ietaphysical^  Ethical^  and  Political 
Philosophy.     In  the  latter,  the  point  at  issue  is  thus  briefly  stated: 

"The  objections  to  which  Locke's  doctrine  con- 
Stewart   quoted   in  •  ,,  •    •  i  •  -i  •  ,^ 
^.  ,.    ,.        .  -     ,          cernmg   the    origin   of    our  ideas,   or,   in    other 

Vindication  of  Locke.  ■^  _  ^  '         ' 

words,  concerning  the  sources  of  our  knowl- 
edge, are,  in  my  judgment,  liable,  I  have  stated  so  fully  in  a  former 

1  Nouveaux  Essais,  Avant-propos,  p.  5  (edit.  358.     Theodicee   (1710),  i.  J  2,  p.  480  (Erd.),  Of 

Raspe).  — Ed.    [Cf.  lib.  i.  C.  i.  }  5,  p.  36;  lib.  Opera,  t-  i.  p.  65(Duten8).    Monadologie  (VH'i\ 

ii.  c.  xvii.  §  1,  p.  116.    Letter  to  Burnet  of  p.  707  (edit.  Erdmann).] 
Kemney  (1706),  Opera,  t.  vi.  p.  274  (edit.  Du-  2  Works,  vol.  v.  part  i.,  Essay  i.,  p  55  e(  «ef. 

tens).     Letter  to  Bierling  (1710),  Opera,  t.  v.  p.  — Ed. 


Lect.  XXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  405 

work,  that  I  shall  not  touch  on  them  here.  It  is  quite  sufficient,  on 
the  present  occasion,  to  remark,  liow  very  unjustly  this  doctrine 
(ira|>erfect,  on  the  most  favorable  construction,  as  it  undoubte«lly 
is)  has  been  confounded  with  those  of  Gassendi,  of  Condillac,  of 
Diderot,  and  of  Home  Tooke.  The  substance  of  all  that  is  com- 
mon in  the  conclusions  of  these  last  writers,  cannot  be  better 
expressed  than  in  the  words  of  their  master,  Gassendi.  'AH  our 
knowledge,'  he  observes  in  a  letter  to  Descartes,  '  a])]ienrs  plainly 
to  derive  its  origin  from  the  senses;  and  although  you  deny  the 
maxim,  'Quicquid  est  intellectu  prajesse  debere  in  sensu,'  yet  this 
maxim  appears,  nevertheless,  to  be  true ;  since  our  knowledge  is  all 
ultimately  obtained  by  an  influx  or  incursion  from  things  external ; 
which  knowledge  afterwards  undergoes  various  modifications  by 
means  of  analogy,  composition,  division,  amplification,  extenuation, 
and  other  similar  processes,  which  it  is  unnecessary  to  enumerate.' 
This  doctrine  of  Gassendi's  coincides  exactly  Avith  that  ascribed  to 
Locke  by  Diderot  and  by  Home  Tooke ;  and  it  differs  only  verbally 
from  the  more  concise  statement  of  Condillac,  that  'our  ideas  are 
nothing  more  than  transformed  sensations.'  'Every  idea,'  says  the 
first  of  these  writers,  '  must  necessarilv,  when  brouirht  to  its  state 
of  ultimate  decomposition,  resolve  itself  into  a  sensible  representa- 
tion or  picture ;  and  since  everything  in  our  understanding  has 
been  introduced  there  by  the  channel  of  sensation,  whatever  pro- 
ceeds out  of  the  understanding  is  either  chimerical,  or  n\ust  be 
able,  in  returning  by  the  same  road,  to  reattach  itself  to  its  sensible 
archetj'pe.  Hence  an  important  rule  in  philosophy,  —  that  every 
expression  which  cannot  find  an  external  and  a  sensible  object,  to 
which  it  can  thus  establish  its  affinity,  is  destitute  of  signification.' 
Such  is  the  exposition  given  by  Diderot,  of  what  is  regarde(l  in 
France  as  Locke's  great  and  cajtital  discovery;  and  precisely  to  the 
same  purpose  Ave  are  told  by  Condorcot,  that  'Locke  was  the  first 
who  proved  that  all  our  ideas  are  com])ounded  of  sensatit>ns.'  If 
this  were  to  be  admitted  as  a  fair  account  of  Locke's  opinion,  il 
would  follow  that  he  has  not  advanced  a  single  step  beyond  Gas- 
sendi and  Ilobbcs ;  both  of  whom  have  repeatedly  expressed  them- 
selves in  nearly  the  same  words  with  Diderot  and  Condorcet.  But 
although  it  must  be  granted,  in  favor  of  their  interpretation  of  his 
language,  that  various  detachetl  passages  may  be  (pioted  from  his 
work,  which  seem,  on  a  superficial  view,  to  justify  their  comments; 
yet  of  what  weight,  it  may  be  ask<'(l,  :ire  these  ])assages.  when 
compared  with  the  stress  laid  by  tlie  author  on  Jit'JltfCtion^  as  an 
original  source  of  our  ideas,  alt()gether  different  from  Scnsnfion  f 
'The  other  fountain,'  says  Locke,  'from  which  experience  furnisheth 


406  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXIX. 

the  understanding  with  ideas,  is  the  perception  of  the  operations 
of  our  own  minds  within  us,  as  it  is  employed  about  the  ideas  it 
has  got ;  Avhich  operations,  wlien  the  soul  comes  to  reflect  on  and 
consider,  do  furnish  the  understanding  Avith  another  set  of  ideas, 
which  could  not  be  had  from  things  without;  and  such  are  Per- 
ception, Thinking,  Doubting,  Believing,  Reasoning,  Knowing,  Will- 
ing, and  all  the  different  actings  of  our  own  minds,  which,  we  being 
conscious  of,  and  observing  in  ourselves,  do  from  these  receive  into 
our  understandings  ideas  as  distinct  as  we  do  from  bodies  aflTecting 
our  senses.  This  source  of  ideas  every  man  has  wholly  in  himself; 
and  though  it  be  not  sense,  as  having  nothing  to  do  with  external 
objects,  yet  it  is  very  like  it,  and  might  properly  enough  be  called 
Internal  Sense.  But  as  I  call  the  other  Sensation,  so  I  call  this 
Reflection;  the  ideas  it  affords  being  such  only  as  the  mind  gets 
by  reflecting  on  its  own  operations  within  itself.'^  Again,  'The 
understanding  seems  to  me  not  to  have  the  least  glimmering  of 
any  ideas  which  it  does  not  receive  from  one  of  these  two.  Ex- 
ternal objects  furnish  the  mind  with  the  ideas  of  sensible  qualities; 
and  the  mind  furnishes  the  understanding  with  ideas  of  its  own 
operations.' "  ^ 

On  these  observations  I  must  remark,  that  they  do  not  at  all 
satisfy  me ;  and  I  cannot  but  regard  Locke  and 

Stewart's  vindica-       Qasseudi  as  exactly   upon   a  par,  and  both  as 

tion  unsatisfactory.  -,      ■    •  ^         \     -x  r 

deriving  all  our  knowle<lge  from  experience. 
The  French  philosophers,  are  therefore,  in  my  opinion,  fully  justified 

in   their    interpretation    of  Locke's  philosophy; 
( ondiiiac  justified       .^^^  Condillac  must,  I  think,  be  viewed  as  hav- 

in    Lis    simplification         .  •i-.^tit  •  n  t  •  -i 

of  Lockes  doctrine.  ^"g  Simplified  the  doctrine  of  his  master,  with- 
out doing  the  smallest  violence  to  its  spirit.  In 
the  first  place,  I  cannot  concur  with  Mr.  Stewart  in  allowing  any 
weight  to  Locke's  distinction  of  Reflection,  or  Self-consciousness, 
as  a  second  source  of  our  knovvledge.  Such  a  source  of  experience 
no  sensualist  ever  denied,  because  no  sensualist  ever  denied  that 

sense   was   cognizant    of  itself      It   makes   no 
The  Reflection  of       difference,  that  Locke  distinguished  Reflection 

Locke ,  —  compatible  _  _,  ,         i        •  i  ^  -i  •  ^ 

with  Sensualism.  "'^"^  ^^"*^'     ''^'^  having  nothing  to  do  with  ex- 

ternal objects,"  admitting,  however,  that  "they 
are  very  like,"  and  that  Reflection  "  might  i)roperly  enough  be 
called  Internal  Sense," ^  while  Condillac  makes  it  only  a  modifica- 
tion of  sense.     It  is  a  matter  of  no  importance,  that  we  do  not  call 

V 

1  Locke.  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  78.     [Essay,  B.  ii.       Dissertation,  p.  ii.  §  i.     Works,  vol.  i.  p.  224  «J 
C.  i.  M-  —  F-D]  «9-  —  Kd] 

2  Ibid.  p.  79.    [Ess.  B.  ii.  c.  i. }  5.  — Stewart,  3  Essay,  B.  ii  c.  i.  §  4.  —Ed. 


Lect.  XXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  407 

^■Self-consciousness  by  the  nunie  of  /Se?ise,  if  we  allow  that  it  is  only 
conversant  about  the  contingent.  Now,  no  interpretation  of  Locke 
can  ever  ])retend  to  find  in  his  Reflection  a  revelation  to  him  of 
aught  native  or  necessary  to  the  mind,  beyond  the  capability  to  act 
and  suffer  in  certain  manners,  —  a  capability  which  no  philosophy 
■ever  dreamt  of  denying.  And  if  this  be  the  case,  it  follows,  that 
the  formal  reduction,  by  Condillac,  of  Reflection  to  Sensation,  is 
only  a  consequent  following  out  of  the  principles  of  the  doctrine 
itself 

Of  how  little  import  is  the  distinction  of  Reflection  from  Sensa- 
tion, in  the  philosophy  of  Locke,  is  equally  shown 
Fundamental  error       in    the    philosophy   of  Gasscudi ;    in   regard  to 
of  Stewart  in  repu.i       ^^j^j^.,^   j   ^^^^^_.^  corrcct  a  fundamental   error  of 

to  the    pliilosopliy  of 

<iassendi.  ^^^-  Stewart.     I  had  formerly  occasion  to  ])oint 

out  to  you  the  unaccountable  mistake  of  this 
very  learned  ])lulosopher,  in  relation  to  Locke's  use  of  the  term 
Reflection,  ^  Avhich,  both  in  his  Essays,  and  his  Dissertation,  he 
states  was  a  word  first  employed  by  Locke  in  its  psychological  sig- 
nification. ^  Nothing,  I  stated,  could  be  more  incofrect.  "When 
adopted  by  Locke,  it  was  a  word  of  universal  currency,  in  a  similar 
•sense,  in  every  contemj)orary  system  of  philosophy,  and  had  been 
so  employed  for  at  least  a  thousand  years  previously.  This  being 
understood,  JMr.  Stewart's  mistake  in  regard  to  Gassendi  is  less 
surprising.  "  The  word  Jieffert ion,''''  says  Mr.  Stewart,  "expresses 
the  peculiar  and  characteristical  doctrine,  by  which  his  system  is 
distinguished  from  that  of  the  Gassendists  and  Hobbists.  All  this, 
however,  sei-\cs  only  to  prove  still  more  clearly,  how  widely  remote 
his  real  o)>inion  on  this  subject  was  from  that  commonly  ascribed  to 
him  by  the  French  and  German  commentators.  For  my  own  j>art, 
I  do  not  thi)d<,  notwithstanding  some  casual  ex)iressions  which  may 
seem  to  favor  tlie  contrary  supposition,  tliat  Locke  Avould  have  hes- 
itated for  a  moment  to  admit,  with  Cudworth  and  Price,  that  the 
Understandittf/  is  itself  a  source  of  new  ideas.  That  it  is  by  Jieflec- 
tioti.  (which,  according  to  his  own  definition,  means  merely  the 
exercise  of  ihe  Lliderstandiiuj  on  the  internal  phenomena),  that 
we  get  our  ideas  of  JVIemory,  Lnagination,  lleasoning,  and  of  all 
other  intellectual  ])owers,  Mr.  Locke  has  again  and  again  told  us; 
and  from  this  principle  it  is  so  obvious  an  inference,  that  all  tlie 
simple  ideas  which  are  necessarily  implied  in  our  intellectual  opera- 
tions, are  ultimately  to  be  referred  to  the  same  source,  that  we  can- 

1  See  above,  leet.  xiii.  p.  102  —  Kn.  tnrh   Chapter  nf  Mr.   I.nrkf'%    Kssay   concman^ 

2  Lee  on  Locki',  nuikes  ai)parently  the  same       Humnnr  Unr/irsiamlin^.  by  Henry  I.ee.  B.D., 
mistake.     [Sec  Anti-Hkepticism:  or,  yoles  upon      Preface,  p.  7;  London,  1702. -■  Hd.J 


408  METAPHYSICS. 


Lect.  XXIX 


not  reasonably  suppose  a  philosopher  of  Locke's  sagacity  to  admiti* 
the  former  proposition,  and  to  withhold  his  assent  to  the  latter." ' 
The  inference  which,  in  the  latter  part  of  this  quotation,  Mr. 
Stewart  speaks  of,  is  not  so  obvious  as  he  sup- 

Gassendi,  though  a    •     ,. •  ^i.    j.    '^  .     .•^■,    -r     •■,      •  , 

Sensationalist,  alit-         1^^'^^'  ^^^^"^    ^^^^    '^  ^''^^    "«*    till   LeibnitZ    that. 

ted   Reflection    as   a       ^^^  character  of  necessity  Avas  enounced,  and 
source  of  knowledge.       clearly  enounccd,  as  the  criterion  by  which  ta 

discriminate  the  native  from  the  adventitious 
cognitions  of  the  mind.  This  is,  indeed,  shown  by  the  example  of 
Gassendi  himself,  who  is  justly  represented  by  Mr.  Stewart  as  a 
Sensationalist  of  the  purest  water;  but  wholly  misrepresented  by 
him,  as  distinguished  from  Locke  by  his  negation  of  any  faculty 
corresponding  to  Locke's  Reflection.  So  far  is  this  from  being  cor- 
rect,—  Gassendi  not  only  allowed  a  foculty  of  Self-consciousness 
analogous  to  the  Reflection  of  Locke,  he  actually  held  such  a  faculty, 
and  even  attributed  to  it  far  higher  functions  than  did  the  English 
philosopher;  nay,  what  is  more,  held  it  under  the  very  name  of 
Reflection.  ^  In  fact,  from  the  French  philosopher,  Locke  borrowed 
this,  as  he  di?l  the  principal  part  of  his  whole  philosophy ;  and  it  is 
saying  but  little  either  for  the  patriotism  or  intelligence  of  their 
countrymen,  that  the  works  of  Gassendi  and  Descartes  should  have 
been  so  long  eclipsed  in  France  by  those  of  Locke,  who  was  in 
truth  only  a  follower  of  the  one,  and  a  mistaken  refuter  of  the 
other.  In  respect  to  Gassendi,  there  are  reasons  that  explain  this 
neglect  apart  from  any  want  of  merit  in  himself;  for  he  is  a  thinker 
fully  equal  to  Locke  in  independence  and  vigor  of  intellect,  and,^ 
with  the  exception  of  Leibnitz,  he  is,  of  all  the  great  philosophers 
of  modern  times,  the  most  varied  and  profound  in  learning. 

Now,  in  regard  to  the  point  at  issue,  so  far  is  Gassendi  from 
assimilating  Reflection  to  Sense,  as  Locke  virtu- 

And  did  not  assim-  ^■\       •£•        2.  ^        ^  iz-  i-i 

...      -r,  „   ,.        .         ^^h-  "  not  expressly,  does,  and  for  Avhich  assim- 
ilate    Retiection      to         .     *^.  '■  -^ '  ' 

gense.  ilation  he  has  been  principally  lauded  by  those 

of  his  followers  who  analyzed  every  mental  pro- 
cess into  Sensation,  —  so  far,  I  say,  is  Gassendi  from  doing  this,  that 
he  places  Sense  and  Reflection  at  the  opposite  mental  poles,  making 
the  former  a  mental  function  wholly  dependent  upon  the  bodily 
organism ;  the  latter,  an  energy  of  intellect  Avholly  inorganic  and 

abstract  from  matter.     The  cognitive  phaenom- 
18    ivision  o      e       ^^^^  ^^  mind  Gassendi  reduces  to  three  sreneral 

cognitive  phaenomena  * 

efmind.  classes  of  faculties  :  —  1°.   Sense,  2°.   Phantasy 

(or  Imagination),  and  3°.  Intellect.  The  two 
former  are,  however,  virtually  one,  inasmuch  as  Phantasy,  on  hi* 

1  Dissertation,  p.  ii.  f  i.  foot-note,  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  230.  —  Ed. 

2  See  above,  lect.  xiii.  p  162. —  Ed. 


I 


Lect.  XXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  400 

doctrine,  is  only  cognizant  about  the  forms,  which  it  receives  from 

Sense,  and  is,  equally  with  Sense,  dependent  on 
Intellect  according       j^  corporeal  Organ.     Intellect,  on  the  contrary^ 

to  Gassendi,  has  three  iiii-  ^  i  t       ^  -i   ^t     ^  '^     c 

.     ,.        \    T     ,        he  holds,  is  not  so  dependent,  and  tJiat  its  lunc- 

fuiictioiis,  —  1.    Intel-  _  ^  _       '  _ 

lectuai  Apiireiiension.       tions  are,  therefore,  of  a  kind  superior  to  those 

of  an  organic  faculty.  These  functions  or  facul- 
ties of  Intellect  he  reduces  to  three.  "The  first,"  he  says  (audi 
litei-ally  translate  his  words  in  order  that  I  may  show  you  how 
flagrantly  he  has  been  misrepresented),  "is  Intellectual  Apprehen' 
sion, — that  is,  the  apprehension  of  things  which  are  beyond  the 
reach  of  Sense,  and  which,  consequently,  leaving  no  trace  in  the 
brain,  are  also  beyond  the  ken  of  Imagin.ation.  Such,  especially,  is 
spiritual  or  incor]>oreal  nature,  as,  for  example,  the  Deity.  For 
although  in  speaking  of  God,  Ave  say  that  He  is  incorporeal,  yet  in 
attempting  to  realize  Ilim  to  Phantasy,  we  only  imagine  something 
with  the  attributes  of  body.  It  must  not,  however,  be  supposed 
tliat  this  is  all ;  for,  besides  and  above  the  corporeal  form  Avhich  Ave 
thus  imagine,  there  is,  at  the  same  time,  another  conception,  whick 
that  form  contributes,  as  it  Avere,  to  veil  and  obscure.  This  con- 
ception is  not  confined  to  the  narroAV  limits  of  Phantasy  (prteter 
PhantasiiD  cancellos  est)  ;  it  is  proper  to  Intellect ;  and,  therefore^ 
such  an  apprehension  ought  not  to  be  called  an  imagination,  but 
an  intelligence  or  intellection  (non  imagination  sed  iatdligentia  vel 
intellectio,  dici  oportet)."^  In  his  doctrine  of  Intellect,  Gassendi 
takes,  indeed,  far  higher  ground  than  Locke ;  and  it  is  a  total  rever- 
sal of  his  doctrine,  when  it  is  stated,  that  he  allowed  to  the  mind 
no  different,  no  higher,  apjjrehensions  than  the  derivative  images  of 
sense.  He  says,  indeed,  and  he  says  truly,  that  if  Ave  attempt  to 
figure  out  the  Deity  in  imagination,  Ave  cannot  dejnct  Him  in  that 
faculty,  except  under  sensible  turms  —  as,  for  example,  under  the 
form  of  a  venerable  old  man.  IJut  does  he  not  condemn  this 
attemi)t  as  derogatory ;  and  does  he  not  allow  us  an  intellectual 
conception  of  the  Divinity,  superior  to  the  grovelling  conditions  of 
Phantasy?  The  Cartesians,  hoAvever,  were  too  Avell  disposed  to 
overlook  the  limits  inider  Avhicli  Gassendi  liad  advanced  his  doc- 
trine, —  that  the  senses  are  the  source  of  all  our  knowledge  ;  and 
Mr.  Stewart  has  adopted,  from  the  Port  Royal  Logic,  a  statement 
of  Gassendi's  opinion,  Avhich  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  partial  and 
incomplete. 

The  second  function  Avhich  Gassendi  assigns  to  Intellect,  is  Re- 
flection, and  the  third  is  Reasoning.     It  is  with  the  former  of  these 

1   Pkyska,  sect,  iii  ,  Jlemb.  Post.,  lib.  ix.  c.  3.     0/><ra,  Lugd.  1G6S,  vol.  ii.  p.  ^>\.—  Kd 

o2 


410  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXIX 

that  we  are  at  present  concernetl,      Mr.   Stewart,  you  have   seen, 

distinguislies  tlie  philosophy  of  Locke  from  that 

2.  Reflection.  ^^   ^ns    predecessor  in   this,  — that    the  former 

3    J{easoiiing.  ,  -^  , 

introduced  Reflection  or  Self-consciousness  as 
a  source  of  knowledge,  which  was  overlooked  or  disallowed  by 
the  latter.  Mr.  Stewart  is  thus  wrong  in  the  fact  of  Gassendi's 
rejection  of  any  source  of  knowledge  of  the  name  and  nature  of 
Locke's  Reflection.  So  far  is  this  from  being  the  case,  that  Gas- 
sendi  attributes  far  more  to  this  faculty  than  Locke ;  for  he  not 
only  makes  it  an  original  source  of  knowledge,  but  founds  upon  the 
nature  of  its  action  a  proof  of  the  immateriality  of  mind.  "To 
the  second  operation,"  he  says,  "  belongs  the  Attention  or  Reflection 
of  tlie  intellect  uj^on  its  proper  acts,  —  an  oj^eration  by  which  it 
understands  that  it  understands,  and  thinks  that  it  thinks  (qua  se 
intelligere  intelligit,  cogitatve  se  cogitare).  "  We  have  formerly," 
he  adds,  ''shown  that  it  is  above  the  ])o\ver  of  Phantasy  to  im- 
agine that  it  imagines,  because,  being  of  a  corporeal  nature,  it 
cannot  act  upon  itself;  in  fact,  it  is  as  absurd  to  say  that  I  imagine 
myself  to  imagine,  as  that  I  see  myself  to  see."  He  then  goes  on 
to  show,  that  the  knowledge  we  obtain  of  all  our  mental  operations 
and  affections,  is  by  this  reflection  of  Intellect;  that  it  is  neces- 
sarily of  an  inorganic  or  purely  sjnritual  character;  that  it  is  peculiar 
to  man,  and  distinguishes  him  from  the  brutes  ;  and  that  it  aids  us 
in  the  recognition  of  disembodied  substances,  in  the  confession  of  a 
God,  and  in  according  to  Him  the  veneration  which  we  owe  Him. 
From  Avhat  I  have  now  said,  you  will  see,  that  the  mere  admis- 
sion of  a  faculty  of  Self-consciousness,  as  a  source 
The  mere  admission  of  knowledge,  is  of  no  import  in  determining 
of  a  faculty  of  Self.       ^]^g  rational,  —  the  anti-sensual,  character   of  a 

consciousness,    of   no  ,  .,  ,  ^      ,  ,  ...  , 

import  in  determining  philosophy  ;  and  that  cvcu  thosc  philosophcrs 
the  anti-sensii.ai  char-  wlio  discriminated  it  the  most  strongly  from 
acter  of  a  philosophy.       Sense,  might  still  maintain  that  experience  is 

not  only  the  occasion,  but  the  source,  of  all  our 
knowledge.  Such  philosophers  were  Gassendi  and  Locke.  On  this 
faculty  I  do  not  think  it  necessary. to  dwell  longer;  and,  in  our 
next  Lecture,  I  shall  proceed  to  consider  the  Conservative  Faculty. 
—  Memory,  properly  so  called. 


LECTURE     XXX. 

THE   CONSERVATIVE  FACULTY.  —  MEMORY  PROPER. 


1  COMMENCED  and  concluded,  in  my  last  Lecture,  the  considei-a 

tion  of  the  second  source  of  knowledge,  —  tl/ 

Elementary     phae-       faculty  of  Self-Consciousncss  Or  Internal  Per 

Domc-na  may  be  dis-       ccinion.     Tlirough  the  powcrs  of  External  and 

tinct,  while  they  de-  '  .  ,  ,     t 

pend  on  each  other  Internal  Ferception  we  are  enabled  to  acqun-e 
for  their  realization.         infornintioii,  —  experience:   but  this  acquisition 

is  not  of  itself  independent  and  complete;  it 
supposes  that  we  are  also  able  to  retain  the  knowledge  acquire<l,  for 
we  cannot  be  said  to  get  what  we  are  unable  to  keep.  The  faculty 
of  Acquisition  is,  therefore,  only  realized  through  anotlier  faculty, — 
the  faculty  of  Retention  or  Conservation.     Here,  we  have  another 

example  of  what  I  have  already  frequently  had 
This  general  princi-       occasion  to  suggcst  to  vour  observation, — we 

pif  itlustrateJ  bv  the  "-.®  '' 

phanoinena  of  Acfiui-  have  t  WO  facultics,  two  elementary  pha3nomen;i, 
«ition,  Retention.  Re-  evidently  distinct,  and  yet  each  depending  on 
production,  and  Rep-       ^]^^,  ^^^j^g,.  f,^,.  j^g  realization.     "Without  a  power 

01  acquisition,  a  power  01  conservation  could 
not  be  exerted  ;  and  witliout  tlie  latter,  the  former  would  be  frus- 
trate(l,  for  we  slioiild  lose  as  fast  as  we  acquired.  But  as  the 
faculty  of  Acquisition  would  be  useless  without  the  faculty  of 
Retention,  so  the  faculty  of  Retention  would  be  useless  without  the 
faculties  of  Reproduction  and  Representation.  That  the  mind 
retained,  beyond  the  sjdiere  of  consciousness,  a  treasury  of  knowl- 
edge, would  be  of  no  avail,  did  it  not  possess  the  power  of  bringing 
out,  and  of  displaying,  in  otlier  words,  of  reproducing,  and  repre- 
senting, tliis  knowleilge  in  consciousness.  But  because  the  faculty 
of  Conservation  would  \)v  fruitk'ss  without  the  ulterior  faculties  of 
Reproduction  and  IJcpresentation,  wr  arc  not  to  confound  these 
faculties,  or  to  view  tlic  act  of  mind  wliicli  is  1  heir  joint  result,  as  a 
simple  and  elementary  ])ha?nomenoii.  Though  mutually  dependent 
on   eacli    other,  the   faculties   of   Conservation,   Reproduction,  and 


412  METAPHYSICS.  Lfxt.  XXX 

Representation  are  governed  by  different  laws,    and,  in  different 
individuals,  ai'e  found  greatly  varying  in  their  comjiarative  vigor. 

The  intimate  connection  of  these  three  faculties,, 
Hence  these  three       or  elementary  activities,  is  the  cause,  however, 

faculties     not     dislin-  ^^,,     ,   ^,^  ^^^^^     ^^^^    ^^^^    distinguished    in   the 

guished     bv    philo.-^o-  i       •         />         • 

phers;    nor  in  ordi-       analysis  of  philosoplicrs ;  and  why  their  distinc- 
uary  language.  tiou  is  not   precisely  marked  in  ordinary  lan- 

guage.    In  ordinary  language  we  have  indeed 
words  which,  without  excluding  the  other  faculties,  denote  one  of 

these   more   emphatically.      Thus  in  the  term 
r  inary  use  o     e       Memory,  the  Conservative  Facultv, — the  phse- 

terms     Memory    and  ^  .  .  '  ^  _ 

Recollection.  nomenou    of  Retention   is  the   central   notion,, 

with  wdiich,  however,  those  of  Reproduction 
and  Representation  are  associated.  In  tlie  term  Recollection,  again,, 
the  phaenomenon  of  Reproduction  is  the  principal  notion,  accom- 
panied, however,  by  those  of  Retention  and  Representation,  as  its. 
subordinates.  This  being  the  case,  it  is  evident  what  must  be  our 
course  in  regard  to  the  employment  of  common  language.  We 
must  either  abandon  it  altogether,  or  take  the  term  that  more  proxi- 
mately expresses  our  analysis,  and,  by  definition,  limit  and  specify 
its  signification.  Thus,  in  the  Conservative  Faculty,  we  may  either 
content  ourselves  with  the  scientific  terms  of  Conservation  and 
Retention  alone,  or  we  may  moreover  use  as  a  synonym  the  vulgar 
term  Memory,  determining  its  apjjlication,  in  our  mouths,  by  a  pre- 
liminary definition.     And  that  the  word  Memory  principally  and 

propei-ly  denotes  the  power  the  mind  possesses 
Memory    properly       ^^  retaining  hold  of  the  knowledge  it  has  ac- 

denotes  the  power  of  .  .        ^  ^ 

Retention.  quired,  IS  generally  admitted  by  philologers,  and 

is  not  denied  by  ]>hilosophers.     Of  the  latter,, 
some  have  expressly  avowed  this.     Of  these  I  shall  quote  to  you 
only  two  or  three,  which  hap])cn  to  occur  the  first  to  my  recollec- 
tion.     Plato   considers   Memory  simply  as  the 

Ac  now  e  ge         y         f^xculty  of  Conservation    (17  jxvrj^y]  o-wrr^pta  aiV^?;- 

Aristotie.  (tcws).^    Aristotle  distinguishes  Memory  {ixvr)ftr]) 

as  the  fiiculty  of  Conservation  from  Reminis- 
cence (Sivafxvr](Ti<:),  the  faculty  of  Reproduction.^     St.  Augustin,  who 

is  not  only  the  most  illustrious  of  the  Christian 

St.  Augustin.  •'  ^  T  1  .    1 

fathers,  but  one  of  the  profoundest  thmkers  of 
antiquity,  finely  contrasts  Memory  with  Recollection  or  Reminis- 
cence, in  one  of  the  most  eloquent  and  philosophical  chapters  of  his 


1  Philebus,  [p.  34.  — Ed.]  Cf   Conimbricenses,   In  De   Mem.  et  Rem.  a 

2  De   Memoria  et   Reminiscentia  [c.  2,    §   2.5        vii.  p.  10.  —  Ed.] 


I 


Lect.  XXX.  METAPHYSICS.  '  418 

Confessions:^  —  "Hjec  omnia  recipit  recolenda,  cum  opus  est,  et 
retractanda  grandis  memoriae  recessus.  Et  nescio  qui  secreti  atque 
ineffabiles  sinus  ejus;  quai  omnia  suis  quieque  foribus  intrant  ad. 
earn,  et  reponuntur  in  ea.  Nee  ipsa  tamen  intrant,  sed  rerum  sensa- 
rum  imagines  illic  prajsto  sunt,  cogitation!  reminiscenti  eas."     The 

same  distinction  is  likewise  precisely  taken  by 
.  u.ius    aesar    ca  i-       ^^^  ^^  ^j^^  acutest  of  modern  i)hilosophers,  the 

elder  Scaliger.-  '■'•  Jfemon'ani  voce  huiusce  cost- 
nitionis  conservationem.  Heminiscentiam  dico,  repetitionem  disci- 
plinae,  quae  e  memoria  delapsa  fuerat."  This  is  from  his  commentary 
on  Aristotle's  History  of  Animals  ;  the  following  is  from  his  De 
Subtilitate :^  —  "  Quid  Memoria ?  Yis  animae  communis  ad  retinen- 
dum  tam  rerum  imagines,  i.  e.  phantasmata,  quam  notiones  univer- 
sales ;  easque,  vel  simplices,  vel  com|)lexas.  Quid  liecordatio? 
Opera  intellectus,  species  recolentis.  Quid  JReminiscentia?  Dis- 
quisitio  tectarum  specierum ;  amotio  importunarum,  digestio  obtur- 
batarum.''  The  father  suggests  the  son,  and  the  following  occurs 
in  the  Secunda  tScaligerana^  which  is  one  of  the  two  collections 

we  have  of  the  table-talk  of  Joseph   Scaliger. 

Joseph  Scaliger.  i  •    i     t  4-  ^      \      \\ 

ihe  one  irom  which  1  quote  Avas  made  by  the 
brothers  A'^assan,  Avhom  the  Dictator  of  Letters,  from  friendship  to 
tlieir  learned  uncles  (the  Messrs,  Pithou),  had  received  into  his 
house,  when  pursuing  tlieir  studies  in  the  University  of  Leyden ; 
and  Secunda  Scaligerana  is  made  up  of  the  notes  they  had  taken 
of  the  conversations  he  liad  with  them,  and  others  in  their  pres- 
ence. Scaliger,  speaking  of  liimself,  is  made  to  say:  "I  have  not  a 
good  memory,  but  a  good  reminiscence  ;  ])roper  names  do  not  easily 
recur  to  me,  but  when  I  think  on  them  I  find  theni  out."*  It  is 
sufficient  for  our  ])urji()se  that  the  distinction  is  here  taken  l)etween 
the  Retentive  l*ower,  —  Memory,  and  the  lie))roductive  Power, — 
Reminiscence.  Scaliger's  memory  could  hardly  be  called  bad, 
tliough  his  reminiscence  might  be  better;  and  these  elements  in 
conjunction  go  to  constitute  a  good  memory,  in  the  com])rehensive 
sense  of  the  exi)ression.  I  sav  the  retentive  facultv  of  that  man  is 
surely  not  to  be  desjtised,  who  was  able  to  commit  to  memory 
Homer  in  twenty-one  days,  and  the  whole  (Ti-oek  poets  in  three 
months,''  and  who,  taking  him  all  in  all,  Avas  the  most  learned  man 
the  world  has  ever  seen.     I  might  adduce  many  other  autliorities  to 

J  Lib   X.  C   S.  —  Ed.  •S  .See  lU'in.>'ius,  In  Josrphi  Srnligeri  Ohitum  : 

'  [Aristotf.lis   Historia    tie  Animalihus,    Julio       Funtbris  Oralio  (1C09),  j)   15      His  word.i  arc  : 

Ca.tart    Scaligero   Interprete.  Tolosie  1G19,  p.       — "  Uuo  et  vi^inti  diobus  Homeruni,  reliquos 

80.]  iiitrii  i|unrtiini  menaiim  ))(X'fa«,  crtiTOn  aiitem 

"  [Exercit.  cccvil  28  ]  intra  biciiiiium  scriptorca  pcniisccret  "    See 

*  Tom.  ii.  p  552.  —  Ed.  beJow  lect  xxxi.  p  41.3.  —  Kd. 


414  METAPHYSICS. 


Lect.  XXX 


the  same  effect;  but  tliis,  I  think,  is  sufficient  to  warrant  me  in 
using  the  term  Memory  exclusively  to  denote  the  faculty  possessed 
by  the  mind  of  preserving  what  has  once  been  present  to  conscious- 
ness, so  that  it  may  again  be  recalled  and  represented  in  conscious- 
ness.^    So  much  foi-  the  verbal  consideration. 

By  Memory  or  Retention,  you  will  see,  is  only  meant  the  condi- 
Memoi7,-what.  ^^^"  ^^  Reproduction  ;  and  it  is,  therefore,  evi- 

dent  that  it  is  only  by  an  extension  of  the  term 
that  it  can  be  called  a  faculty,  that  is,  an  active  power.  It  is  more  a 
passive  resistance  than  an  energy,  and  ought,  therefore,  perhaps  to 
receive  rather  the  appellation  of  a  capacity.  ^  But  the  nature  of 
this  capacity  or  faculty  we  must  now  proceed  to  consider. 

In  the  first  place,  then,  I  presume  that  the  fact  of  retention  is 
^^  ,       ,  admitted.     We  are  conscious  of  certain  coo-ni- 

The  fact  of  retention  ...  ° 

admitted.  \\o\\%  as  acquired,  and  we  are  conscious  of  these 

cognitions  as  resuscitated.  That,  in  the  interval, 
when  out  of  consciousness,  these  cognitions  do  continue  to  subsist 
in  the  mind,  is  certainly  an  hypothesis,  because  whatever  is  out  of 
consciousness  can  only  be  assumed  ;  but  it  is  an  hypothesis  which 
we  are  not  only  warranted,  but  necessitated,  by  the  i)h8enomena,  to 
establish.     I  recollect,  indeed,  that  one  philosopher  has  proposed 

another  hypothesis.      Avicenna,  the  celebrated 

The    hypothesis    of  at,-  i-i  i  -i      ^        •    •  -,       • 

Avicenna  regarding  -Arabian  philosopher  and  physician,  denies  to  the 
retention.  human  mind  the   conservation  of  its  acquired 

knowledge  ;  and  he  explains  the  process  of  recol- 
lection by  an  irradiation  of  divine  light,  through  which  the  recov- 
ered cognition  is  infused  into  the  intellect.  ^  Assumino-,  however, 
that  the  knowledge  we  have  acquired  is  retained  in  and  by  the 
human  mind,  we  must,  of  course,  attribute  to  the  mind  a  2)ower  of 
thus  retaining  it.     The  fact  of  memory  is  thus  established. 

But  if  it  cannot  be  denied,  that  the  knowledge  we  have  acquired 

by  Perception  and  Self-consciousness,  does  actu- 

Retention  admits  of  ,,  .  , 

explanation.  '"^^V   Continue,  though  out  of  consciousness,  to 

endure ;  can  we,  in  the  second  place,  find  any 
ground  on  which  to  explain  the  possibility  of  this  endurance  ?  I 
think  we  can,  and  shall  adduce  such  an  explanation,  founded  on  the 
general   analogies  of  our  mental   nature.      Before,  however,  com- 

1  Suabedissen  makes  Memory  equivalent  to  2  See  Suabedissen,  as  above. 
Retention;    see  his   Grundzilge  cler  Lehre  von 

dem  Mfnschen,  p  107.    So  Fries,  Schmid.    [Cf.  3  See  Conimbricensfes,   In    De    Memoria  et 

Leibnitz,  Nout-  Ess.,  lib   i   c.  i.  §  5;  lib   ii.  c.  Reminiseenlia,  [c.  i.  p.  2,  edit.  1631      Cf.  the 

xix  §  1-    Conimbricenses,  In  De  Mem.  et  Rem.  same,  In  De  Anima,  lib.  iii.  c.  v.  q.  ii  art.  ii.  p. 

c  i.  p  2]    [Fracastorius,  Z)e /ntettec«ione,  1.  i.,  430.  —  Ed.] 
Opera,  f.  126  (ed.  1584).  —Ed./ 


Lect.  XXX.  METAPHYSICS.  415 

mencing   this,  I  may  notice  some  of  the  similitudes  which   have 

been  suggested  by  pliilosophers,  as  iUustrative 
Similitudes  suggested       ^^f  tj^jg  faculty.    It  lias  been  compared  to  a  store- 

In   illustration   of  the         .  ^.  n     •  7 

faculty  of  Retention.  house,  —  Ciccro  calls  it  "■  thescmrus  omnium  re- 
Cicero.  Tum^''  ^  —  provided  with  cells   or  jjigeon-holes^ 

in  which  its  furniture  is  laid  \\\>  and  arranged.* 
It  has  been  likened  to  a  tablet  on  which  characters  were  written  or 
impressed.^     But   of  all   these  sensible   resemblances,  none   is   so 

ingenious  as  that  of  Gassendi*  to  the  folds  in  a 

Gassendi.  .  ^  1      1  i  i     t    n 

piece  01  paper  or  cloth ;  though  1  do  not  recol- 
lect to  have  seen  it  ever  noticed.  A  sheet  of  paper,  or  cloth,  is 
capable  of  receiving  innumerable  folds,  and  the  folds  in  whicli  it 
has  been  oftenest  laid,  it  takes  afterwards  of  itself  "  Concipi  charta 
valeat  plicarum  innumerabiliuui,  inconfusarunique,  et  juxta  suos 
ordines,  suasque  series  rej)Ctendarum  capax.  Silicet  ubi  unam 
seriem  subtilissimarum  induxerimus,  superinducere  licet  alias,  qua& 
primam  quidem  refringant  transversuin,  et  in  oranem  obliquitatem ; 
sed  ita  tamen,  ut  dum  iiovas,  plicae,  plicarumque  series  superindu- 
cuntur  priores  omnes  non  modo  remaneant,  verum  etiam  possint 
facili  negotio  excitari,  redire,  apparere,  quatenus  una  jjlica  arrepta, 
caeterae,  quae  in  eadem  serie  quadam  quasi  sponte  sequuntur." 

All  these  resemblances,  if  intended  as  more  than  metaphors,  are 

unphilosophical.     AVe  do  not  even  obtain  any 

These  resemblances       i„siolit  into  the  nature  of  Memory  from  any  of 

of  use  simply  as  meta-  "  •      ^    ^  1  i-,,  -i 

phors.         '  t''^'   physiological  Jiypotheses  which  have  been 

stated  ;  indeed  all  of  them  are  too  contemptible 
even  for  serious  criticism.     "  The  mind  alFords  us,  however,  in  itself, 
the  very  explanation  which  we  vainly  seek  in  any  collateral  influ- 
ences.   The  phenomenon  of  retention  is,  indeed, 
The  phacnomenon  of       ^^  natural,  ou  tlio  grouud  of  the  self-energy  of 

retention        naturally  •     1       1     ^  1  t 

arises   from    the    self-  """•^'    ^'''"'^    ''■*'     ''•'''^     "^     "*^'^*^     ^'^    SUppOSe    any 

energy  of  mind.  sjiecial   lacult}'   fur    iiu'iiiory  ;    the    conservation 

of  tlie  action  of  the  iniud  beini;  involved  in 
the  very  conception  of  its  i)ower  of  self-activity. 

"  Let  us  consider  how  knowledge  is  acquired  by  the  mind. 
Knowledge  is  not  accpiired  by  a  mere  passive  affection,  but  througli 
the  exertion  of  spontaneous  activity  on  the  part  of  the  knowing 
subject;  for  though  this  activity  bo  not  exerted  without  some  exter- 
nal excitation,  still  this  excitation  is  only  the  occasion  on  which 

1  Dt  Oralore,  i.5.  — Ed.  4  Physica,  sect   iii.,  membr.  post.,  lib.  vili. 

2  Cf  Plato,  T/ieatetus,  p.  197. —  Ed.  c.  3.     Opera,  Lugd.  IGoS,  vol.  ii   p.  400.  —  Eo. 

3  Cf  Plato,  TUKTittus,  p.  I'Jl.  Arist.,  De  [Cf  Descartes,  CEuvret,  t.  ix.  p.  107  (ed. 
Anima,\\\  4.  Boethius,  ZJe  ConioJ.  P/ii7.,  lib.  Cousin)]  [Hi.  UUaxrv,  PsychologU  W  Aristotlt, 
V.  metr.  4.  —  Ed.  Pref  p.  18  et  seq.  —  Ed.] 


416  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXX. 

the  mind  develops  its  self-energy.      But  this  energy  being  once 

determined,  it  is  natural  that  it  should  persist, 
This  specially  shown.       until  again  annihilated  by  other  causes.     This 

Knowledge     aciuired         ^,^^^^^^  .^  ^^^^  ^^  ^j^^  ^^^^  ^^^^  ^.^^-^  ^.g^elv 

by  the  spontaneous  ac-  ^         _  _  '    ^  _  _     .     • 

tivitv  of  mind.  passive  iu  the  impression  it  receives;  for  it  is  a 

universal  law  of  nature,  that  everv  effect  endures 
as  long  as  it  is  not  modified  or  opposed  by  any  other  effect.  But  the 
mental  activity,  the  act  of  knowledge,  of  which  I  now  speak,  is  more 
than  this ;  it  is  an  energy  of  the  self-active  power  of  a  subject  one 
and  indivisible :  consequently,  a  part  of  the  ego  must  be  detached 
or  annihilated,  if  a  cognition  once  existent  be  again  extinguished. 

Hence  it  is,  that  the  problem  most  difficult  of 

The  problem  most       solution  is  not,  how  a  mental  activity  endures, 

difficult  of  solution  is       ^^^^  j^^^^.  -^  g^.gj.  vanishes.     For  as  we  must  here 

not,    how    a     mental  .         .  .  . 

activity  endures,  but  maintam  not  merely  the  possible  continuance  of 
how  it  ever  vanishes.         certain  energies,  but  the   impossibility  of  the 

non-continuance  of  any  one,  we,  consequently, 
•stand  in  apparent  contradiction  to  what  experience  shows  us ;  show- 
in*'  us,  as  it  does,  our  internal  activities  in  a  ceaseless  vicissitude  of 
manifestation  and  disappearance.  This  apparent  contradiction, 
therefore,  demands  solution.  If  it  be  impossible,  that  an  energy  of 
mind  which  has  once  been  should  be  abolished,  M'ithout  a  laceration 
of  the  vital  unity  of  the  mind  as  a  subject  one  and  indivisible;  —  on 
this  supposition,  the  question  arises,  How  can  the  facts  of  our  self- 
consciousness  be  brought  to  harmonize  with  this  statement,  seeing 
that  consciousness  proves  to  us,  that  cognitions  once  clear  and  vivid 
are  forgotten ;  that  feelings,  wishes,  desires,  in  a  word,  every  act  or 
modification,  of  which  we  are  at  one  time  aware,  are  at  another 
vanished ;  and  that  our  internal  existence  seems  daily  to  assume  a 
new  and  different  aspect. 

"  The  solution  of  this  problem  is  to  be  sought  for.  in  the  theory 
of  obscure  or  latent  modifications,  [that  is,  men- 

The  difficulty  re-  tal  activities,  real  but  beyond  the  sphere  of  con- 
moved  by  the  princi-       sciousucss,  Avhich  I  formerly  explained.]  ^     The 

pie  of  latent  mortitica-  r' •    ^  i  •        i?  .^i,        ■    

*.       ™     ,        ^.  disa])pearance  of  internal  energies  from  the  View 

tions.  The  obscuration  11  o 

of  a  mental  activity  of  internal  perception,  does  not  warrant  the  con- 
arises  from  the  weak-  clusion,  that  they  no  longer  exist ;  for  we  are 
«ning  of  the  degree  in       ^^^  alwavs  conscious  of  all  the  mental  energies 

which  it  affects    self-  •  i         t      n  i  /-^    i 

consciousness.  whose  existence  cannot   be  disallowed.      Only 

the  more  vivid  changes  sufficiently  affect  our 
consciousness  to  become  objects  of  its  apprehension:  we,  conse- 
quently, are  only  conscious  of  the  more  prominent  series  of  changes 

1  See  above,  lect.  xviii.  p.  235  et  seq.  —  Ed. 


I 


Lect.  XXX.  METAPHYSICS.  41T 

in  our  internal  state  ;  the  others  remain  for  the  most  part  latent. 
Thus  we  take  note  of  our  memory  only  in  its  influence  on  our  con- 
sciousness ;  and,  in  general,  do  not  consider  that  the  immense  pro- 
portion of  our  intellcctunl  possessions  consists  of  our  delitescent 
cognitions.  !  All  the  cognitions  which  we  possess,  or  have  possessed, 
still  remain  to  us,  —  the  whole  complement  of  all  our  knowledge 
still  lies  in  our  memory;  but  as  new  acquisitions  are  continually 
pressing  in  \ipon  the  old,  and  continually  taking  place  along  with 
them  among  tlie  modifications  of  the  ego,  the  old  cognitions,  un- 
less from  time  to  time  refreshed  and  brought  forward,  are  driven 
back,  and  become  gradually  fainter  and  more  obscure.  This  obscur- 
ation is  not,  however,  to  be  conceived  as  an  obliteration,  or  as  a 
total  annihilation.  The  obscuration,  the  delitescence  of  mental 
activities,  is  explained  by  the  weakening  of  the  degree  in  Avhich 
they  affect  our  self-consciousness  or  internal  sense.  An  activity 
becomes  obscure,  because  it  is  no  longer  able  adequately  to  affect 
this.  To  explain,  therefore,  the  disappearance  of  our  mental  activ 
itics,  it  is  only  requisite  to  explain  their  weakening  or  enfeeble 
ment,  —  which  may  be  attempted  in  the  following  way :  —  Every 

mental  activity  belongs  to  the  one  vital  activity 
The  distribution  of      ^^  ^^^-^^j  j^^  general ;  it  is,  therefore,  indivisiblv 

mental  force  explains  .   ,     .  i  •  i         i  /-        ' 

the  weakening  of  our  bound  up  With  it,  and  can  neither  be  torn  from 
activities,  and  the  nor  aboHshcd  in,  it.  But  the  mind  is  only  capa- 
phanomenon  of  For-  ^Ae,  at  any  One  moment,  of  exerting  a  certaiw 
^^  "^^  ■  quantity  or  degree  of  force.    This  quantity  must^ 

therefore,  be  divided  among  the  different  activities,  so  that  each 
has  only  a  part ;  and  the  sum  of  force  belonging  to  all  the  several 
activities  taken  together,  is  equal  to  the  quantity  or  degree  of  forc^ 
belonging  to  the  vital  activity  of  mind  in  general.  Thus,  in  propor- 
tion to  the  greater  number  of  activities  in  the  mind,  the  less  will 
be  the  proportion  of  force  which  will  accrue  to  each  ;  tlie  feebler, 
therefore,  each  will  be,  and  the  fainter  the  vivacity  with  wliich  it 
can  affect  self-consciousness.  This  weakening  of  vivacity  can,  in  con 
sequence  of  the  indefinite  increase  in  the  number  of  om-  mental 
activities,  caused  by  the  ceaseless  excitation  of  the  mind  to  hcmt 
knowledge,  be  carried  to  an  indefinite  tenuity,  without  the  activi- 
ties, therefore,  ceasing  altogether  to  be.  Thus  it  is  quite  natural, 
that  the  great  pro]>ortion  of  our  mental  cognitions  shouKl  have 
waxed  too  feeble  to  affect  our  internal  perception  with  the  com- 
I">etent  intensity;  it  is  quite  natural  that  they  should  have  become 
obscure  or  delitescent.  In  these  circumstances  it  is  to  be  supposed, 
that  every  new  cognition,' every  newly-excited  activity,  should  be  in 
the  greatest  vivacity,  and  should  draw  to  itself  the  greatest  amount 

53 


418  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXX 

of  force  :  this  force  will,  in  the  same  proportion,  be  withdrawn  from 
the  other  earlier  cognitions ;  and  it  is  they,  consequently,  which  must 
undergo  the  fate  of  obscuration.  Thus  is  explained  the  phaenome- 
non  of  Forgetfulness  or  Oblivion.  And  here,  by  the  way,  it  should 
perhaps  be  noticed,  that  forgetfulness  is  not  to  be  limited  merely  to 
our  cognitions :  it  applies  equally  to  the  feelings  and  desires. 

"  The  same  principle  illustrates,  and  is  illustrated  by,  the  phte- 

nomenon  of  Distraction  and  Attention.  ^  If  a 

And  the  phaenome-  ^^  number  of  activities  are  equally  excited 

nou  of  Distraction  and  it  n  i    n 

Attention.  ''^  oncc,  the  disposable  amount  of  mental  foi'ce 

is  equally  distributed  among  this  multitude, 
so  that  each  activity  only  attains  a  low  degree  of  vivacity ;  the 
state  of  mind  which  results  from  this  is  Distraction,  Attention 
is  the  state  the  converse  of  this ;  that  is,  the  state  in  Avhich  the 
vital  activity  of  mind  is,  voluntarily  or  involuntarily,  concentrated, 
say,  in  a  single  activity ;  in  consequence  of  which  concentration 
this  activity  waxes  stronger,  and,  therefore,  clearer.  |  On  this  theory, 
the  proposition  with  which  I  started,  —  that  all  mental  activities,, 
all  acts  of  knowledge,  which  have  been  once  excited,  persist,  — 
becomes  intelligible  ;  we  never  wholly  lose  them,  but  they  become 
obscure,  j  This  obscuration  can  be  conceived  in  every  infinite  de- 
gree, between  incipient  latescence  and  irrecoverable  latency.  The 
obscure  cognition  may  exist  simply  out  of  consciousness,  so  that  it 
can  be  recalled  by  a  common  act  of  reminiscence.  Again,  it  may 
be  impossible  to  recover  it  by  an  act  of  voluntary  recollection ;  but 
some  association  may  revivify  it  enough  to  make  it  flash  after  a 
long  oblivion  into  consciousness.  Further,  it  may  be  obscured  so 
far  that  it  can  only  be  resuscitated  by  some  morbid  affection  of  the 
system  ;  or,  finally,  it  may  be  absolutely  lost  for  us  in  this  life,  and 
destined  only  for  our  reminiscence  in  the  life  to  come. 

"  That  this  doctrine  admits  of  an  immediate  application  to  the 

faculty  of  Retention,  or  Memory  Proper,  has 

Two  observations  re-       j^^g^^  already  signified.     And  in  further  explana- 

garding  Jlemory,  that  ..  f»     i  •      />        t  t  it  i 

4.  ^f  *v.„  tion  ot  tins  faculty,  1  would  annex  tAvo  observa- 

arise  out  of  the  pre-  •' ' 

ceding  theory.  tioMS,  which  arise  out  of  the  preceding  theory. 

1.  The  law  of  reten-       q^i,e  first  is,  that  retention,  that  memory,  does 
ion  ex  en  s  over  a         ^^^^^  bclouff  alone  to  the  cofjnitivc  faculties,  but 

the     phaenomena     of  ^  ^      _ 

mind  alike.  ^''^^  tlic  same  law  extends,  in  like  manner,  over 

all  the  three  primary  classes  of  the  mental  phae- 
nomena. It  is  not  ideas,  notions,  cognitions  only,  but  feelings  and 
conations,  which  are  held  fast,  and  which  can,  therefore,  be  again 
awakened.'    This  fact  of  the  conservation- of  our  practical  modifica- 


1  [Cf.  Tetens,  Versuche  iiber  die  menschliche  Nntur,  i.  p.  56.1 


^ 


Lect.  XXX.  METAPHYSICS.  419 

tions  is  not  indeed  denied  ;  but  psychologists  usually  so  represent 
the  matter,  as  if,  when  feelings  or  conations  arc  retained  in  the 
mind,  that  this  takes  place  only  through  the  medium  of  the  memory; 
meaning  hy  tliis,  that  v,o  must,  first  of  all,  have  liad  notions  of 
these  affections,  which  notions  being  preserved,  they,  when  recalled 
to  minil,  do  again  awaken  the  modification  they  rei)resent.  From 
the  tlicory  I  have  detailed  to  you,  it  must  be  seen  that  there  is  no 
need  of  this  intermediation  of  notions,  but  that  \vc  immediatelv 
retain  fceling.s,  volitions,  and  desires,  no  less  than  notions  and  cu<t- 
nitions;  inasmuch  as  all  the  three  classes  of  fundamental  phe- 
nomena arise  equally  out  of  the  vital  manifestations  of  the  same 
one  and  indivisible  subject, 

"  The  second  result  of  this  theory  is,  that  the  various  attempts  to 
explain  memory  by  physiological  hyi)otheses  are 

2.  Tiie  various  at-  as  unnecessary  as  they  are  untenable.  This  is 
tempt,     to     explain       j^^^   ^j^^      j.^^^   ^^   discuss  the  general   problem 

memory  by  plivsiolog-  .  „       .         "" 

icai  hypotheses  are  touclimg  the  relation  of  mmd  and  body.  But 
unnecessary.  in   ])roximate  reference  to  memory,  it  luav  be 

satisfactory  to  show,  that  this  faculty  does  not 
stand  in  need  of  such  crude  modes  of  ex])lanation.      It  must  be 

allowed,  that  no  faculty  affords  a  more  tempting 
Memory  greatly  de-       <,^ii,ject  for  materialistic  conjccture.      Xo  other 

pendent  on  corporeal  *  '' 

conditions.  mental  ])ower  betrays  a  greater  dependence  on 

corporeal  conditions  than  memory.  Not  onlv  in 
general  does  its  vigorous  or  feeble  activity  essentially  depend  on 
the  health  and  indisposition  of  the  body,  more  especially  of  the 
nervous  systems;  but  there  is  manifested  a  connection  between 
certain  functions  of  memory  and  certain  parts  of  the  cerebral 
ai)paratus."'  This  connection,  however,  is  such,  as  affords  no  coun- 
tenaTice  to  any  ])articiUar  hypotheses  at  present  in  vogue.  For 
example,  after  certain  diseases,  or  certain  affections  of  the  Itiain, 
some  ])artial  loss  of  memory  takes  ])lace.  Perhaps  the  ])atient  loses 
the  whole  of  his  stock  of  kn<iuh'i|g(.'  jircvious  to  the  disease;  the 
faculty  of  ac(puring  an<l  rclaiiiing  new  inf()rmation  remainiiiir  en- 
tire. Perhaps  he  loses  the  nuniDiy  of  woids,  and  ]irescrves  tliat 
of  things.  Perhaps  he  may  i-etnin  tlic  iiicmoi-y  of  nouns,  and  lose 
that  of  verbs,  or  vice  vertid  :  nay,  a\  hat  is  still  more  marvellous, 
though  it  is  not  a  very  unfrecpuMit  occurrence,  one  language  mav  be 
taken  neatly  out  of  his  retention,  without  affecting  his  memory  of 
others.  "  By  such  observations,  the  older  jtsychologists  were  led 
to  the  various  physiological   hypotlieses   by  which  they  hoped    to 

'   H.  Schmid,  Vtrfuch  einer  Mftaphi/sik  dtr  inntrtn  Aa/ur  [p.  231— 235 ;  translated  with  oocft 
fional  brief  iuterjjolatious.  — Ed.] 


420  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXX. 

account  for  the  plupnomena  of  retention,  —  as,  for  example,  the 

hypothesis   of  pennaueut  material    impressions 
Physiological    iiy-       qj^  ^jjg  b,-ain,  or  of  permanent  dispositions  in 

pothesis  of  the  older         .■■  jy,  , 

psychologists  regard-       *^^  nervous  fibres  to  repeat  the  same  oscillatory 
iiig  memory.  movements,  —  of  particular  organs  for  the  difi'er- 

ent  functions  of  memory,  —  of  particular  parts 
of  the  brain  as  the  repositories  of  the  various  classes  of  ideas,  —  or 
even  of  a  particular  fibre,  as  the  instrument  of  every  several  notion. 
But  all  these  hypotheses  betray  only  an  ignorance  of  the  proper 
object  of  philosophy,  and  of  the  true  nature  of  the  thinking  princi- 
ple. They  are  at  best  but  useless ;  for  if  the  unity  and  self-activity 
of  mind  be  not  denied,  it  is  manifest,  that  the  mental  activities, 
which  have  been  once  determined,  must  persist,  and  these  corporeal 
explanations  are  superfluous.  Nor  can  it  be  argued,  that  the  limita- 
tions to  which  the  Retentive,  or  rather  the  Reproductive,  Faculty 
is  subjected  in  its. energies,  in  consequence  of  its  bodily  relations, 
prove  the  absolute  dependence  of  memory  on  organization,  and 
legitimate  the  explanation  of  this  fiiculty  by  corporeal  agencies ;  for 
the  incompetency  of  this  inference  can  be  shown  from  the  contra- 
diction in  which  it  stands  to  the  general  laws  of  mind,  which,  how- 
beit  conditioned  by  bodily  relations,  still  ever  preserves  its  self- 
activity  and  indei^endence."  ^ 

There  is  perhaps  no  mental  power  in  which  such  extreme  dif- 
ferences a])pear,  in  diflferent  individuals,  as  in 
Two  qualities  requi-       memory.     To    a  good  memory  there    are   cer- 

«ite  to   a  good  mem-         ^    •    ^     ^  !•>•  •   •.  -,  ^    mi 

ory-viz.    Retention       ^^^^^^  ^^^  qualities  requisite,—  1,°  The  capacity 
and  Reproduction.  of  Retention,  and  2°,  The  faculty  of  Reproduc- 

tion. But  the  former  quality  appears  to  be  that 
by  which  these  marvellous  contrasts  are  principally  determined. 
I  should  only  fatigue  you,  were  I  to  enumerate  the  prodigious 
feats  of  retention,  which  are  proved  to  have  been  actually  per- 
formed. Of  these,  I  shall  only  select  the  one  which,  u])on  the 
■whole,  appears  to  me  the  most  extraordinary,  both  by  reason  of 
its  own  singularity,  and  because  I  am  able  to  afford  it  some  testi- 
mony, in  confirmation  of  the  veracity  of  the  illustrious  scholar  by 
whom  it  is  narrated,  and  which  has  most  groundlessly  been  sus- 
pected by  his  learned  editor.  The  story  I  am  about  to  detail  to 
you  is  told  by  Muretus,  in  the  first  chapter  of  the  third  book  of 
his  incomparable  work,  the  Varice  X,ectio7ies? 


1  H.   Schmid,    Versuch  tiner  Metaphysik,  [p.  lologers  and  critics  of  modern  times;    and 
235,236.  —  Ed.]  from  himself  to  Cicero,  a  period  of  sixteen 

2  f^pera,  edit.  Ruhnken.,  torn.  ii.  p.  55. —  Ed.  centuries,  there  is  to  be  found  no  one  who 
Muretus  ie  one  of  the  most  distinguished  phi-  equalled  him  in  Latin  eloquence.     Besides 


Lect.  XXX.  METAPHYSICS.  421 

After  noticing  tlie   boast   of  Hippias,  in   Plato,  that   lie   could 

repeat,  upon  liearing  once,  to  the  amount  of  live 

The  remarkable  case       hundred  Avords,  he  obscrves  that  this  was  noth- 

of  retention  narrated         .  i        •   i       i  ,.  . 

b    Muretus  ^"o  ^^  Compared  with  the  power  of   retention 

possessed  by  Seneca  the  rhetorician'.  In  his 
Declamations,  Seneca,  complaining  of  the  inroads  of  old  age  ui>on 
his  faculties  of  mind  and  body,  mentions,  in  regard  to  the  tenacity 
of  his  now  failing  memory,  that  he  had  been  able  to  repeat  two 
thousand  names  read  to  him,  in  the  order  in  which  they  had  been 
spoken ;  and  that,  on  one  occasion,  when  at  his  studies,  two  hun- 
dred unconnected  verses  having  been  pronounced  by  the  different 
pupils  of  his  preceptor,  he  repeated  them  in  a  reversed  order,  that 
is,  proceeded  from  the  last  to  the  first  uttered.  After  quoting  the 
passage  from  Seneca,  of  which  I  have  given  you  the  substance, 
Muretus  remarks,  that  this  statement  had  always  ajjpeared  to  him 
marvellous,  and  almost  incredible,  until  he  hiniself  had  been  wit- 
ness of  a  fact  to  which  he  never  could  otherwise  have  'afforded 
credit.  The  sum  of  this  statement  is,  that  at  Padua  there  dwelt, 
in  his  neighborhood,  a  young  man,  a  Corsican  by  birth,  and  of  a 
good  family  in  that  island,  who  had  come  thither  for  the  cultiva- 
tion of  civil  law,  in  which  lie  was  a  diligent  and  distinguished 
student.  He  was  a  fi-equent  visitor  at  the  house  and  gardens  of 
Muretus,  who,  having  heard  that  he  possessed  a  remarkable  art, 
or  faculty  of  memory,  took  occasion,  though  incredulous  in  regard 
to  reports,  of  requesting  from  him  a  specimen  of  his  power.  lie 
at  once  agreed;  and  having  adjourned  witli  a  considerable  party 
of  distinguished  auditors  into  a  saloon,  Muretus  began  to  dictate 
words,  Latin,  Greek,  barbarous,  significant  and  non-significant,  dis- 
joined and  connected,  until  he  wearied  himself,  the  young  man 
who  wrote  them  down,  and  the  audience  who  were  ])resent;  —  "we 
were  all,"  he  says,  "  marvellously  tired."  The  Corsican  alone  was 
the  one  of  the  Avhole  company  alert  and  fresh,  and  coiitiiuially 
desired  Muretus  for  more  words  ;  who  declared  he  would  be  more 
than  satisfied,  if  he  could  repeat  the  half  of  what  had  been  taken 
down,  and  at  leiiijrth  he  ceased.  The  voun-i;  man,  witli  his  gaze 
fixed  upon  the  ground,  stood  silent  for  a  brief  season,  and  then, 
says  Muretus,  "  vidi  facinus  mirificissimum.  Having  liegun  to 
speak,  he  absolutely  repeated  the  whole  wonls,  in  the  same  order 
in  which  they  had  been  delivered,  without  the  slightest  hesitation ; 

numerous  editions  of  hia  several  treatises,  his  course  of  (uiblication,  by  Professor  Frotschcr 

works  have  been  republislied  in  a  collected  of   Ix'ipzijr,    was    Itiilinkenius,   perhaps    the 

form  six  several  tinus:  luul  the  editor  of  the  greatest  scholar  of  the  eighteenth  ceuturj  . 
edition  'before  the  one  at  present  [lfc3"]  in  the 


« 


422  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXX. 

then,  commencing  from  the  last,  he  repeated  them  backwards  till 
he  came  to  the  first.  Then  again,  so  that  he  spoke  the  first,  the 
third,  the  fifth,  and  so  on  ;  did  this  in  any  order  that  was  asked, 
and  all  without  the  smallest  error.  Having  subsequently  become 
familiarly  acquainted  with  him,  I  have  had  other  and  frequent 
experience  of  his  power.  He  assured  me  (and  he  had  nothing 
of  the  boaster  in  him)  that  he  could  recite,  in  the  manner  I  have 
mentioned,  to  the  amount  of  thirty-six  thousand  words.  And 
what  is  more  wonderful,  they  all  so  adhered  to  the  mind  that, 
after  a  year's  interval,  he  could  repeat  them  without  trouble.  I 
know,  from  having  tried  him,  he  could  do  so  after  a  considerable 
time  (post  multos  dies).  Nor  was  this  all.  Franciscus  Molinus, 
a  patrician  of  Venice,  was  resident  with  me,  a  young  man  ardently 
devoted  to  literature,  who,  as  he  had  but  a  wretched  memory, 
besought  the  Corsican  to  instruct  him  in  the  art.  The  hint  of 
his  desire  was  enough,  and  a  daily  course  of  instruction  com- 
menced, and  with  such  success  that  the  pupil  could,  in  about  a 
week  or  ten  days,  easily  repeat  to  the  extent  of  five  hundred 
words  or  more  in  any  order  that  was  prescribed."  "  This,"  adds 
Muretus,  "  I  should  hardly  venture  to  record,  fearing  the  suspicion 
of  falsehood,  had  not  the  matter  been  very  recent  (for  a  year  has 
not  elapsed),  and  had  I  not  as  fellow-witnesses,  Nicolaus  the  son 
of  Petrus  Lippomanus,  Lazarus  the  son  of  Francis  Mocenicus, 
Joannes  the  son  of  Nicolaus  Malipetrus,  George  the  son  of  Lau- 
rence Contarenus  —  all  Venetian  nobles,  worthy  and  distinguished 
young  men,  besides  other  innumerable  witnesses.  The  Corsican 
stated  that  he  received  the  art  from  a  Frenchman,  who  was  his 
domestic  tutor."  Muretus  terminates  the  narrative  by  alleging 
sundry  examples  of  a  similar  fiiculty,  possessed  in  antiquity  by 
Cyrus,  Simonides,  and  Apollonius  Tyana?us. 

Now,  on   this   history,  Ruhnkenius   has  the   following   note,  in 

reference  to  the  silence  of  Muretus  in  regard 

Ruhnkenius  unduly       ^^    ^^^   j^.^j^^g   ^^f   ^^^    Corsican :    "  Ego    uomcn 

skeptical  in  regard  to         ,  .    .  .      ,  ... 

this  case  hommis    tam    mirabilis,    citius    quam    patnam 

requisiissem.  Id(pie  pertinobat  ad  fidem  nar- 
rationi  faciendam."  This  skepticism  is,  I  think,  out  of  place.  It 
would,  perhaps,  have  been  Avarranted,  had  Muretus  not  done  far 
more  than  was  necessary  to  establish  the  authenticity  of  the  story ; 
and,  after  the  testimonies  to  whom  he  appeals,  the  omission  of  the 
Corsican's  name  is  a  matter  of  little  import.  But  I  am  surprised 
that  one  confirmatory  circumstance  has  escaped  so  learned  a  scholar 
as  Ruhnkenius,  seeing  that  it  occurs  in  the  works  of  a  man  with 
whose  writings  no  one  was  more  familiar.     Muretus  and  Paulus 


Lect.  XXX. 


METAPHYSICS. 


42? 


Manutius  were  correspondents,  and  Manutius,  yon  must  know,  was 
a  Venetian.  Now,  in  the  letters  of  Manutius  to  Muretus,  at  the 
date  of  the  occurrence  in  question,  there  is  frequent  mention  madi- 
of  Molino,  in  wliom  Manutius  seems  to  have  felt  much  interest ; 
and,  on  one  occasion,  there  is  an  allusion  (which  I  cannot  at  the 
moment  recover  so  as  to  give  you  the  precise  expressions)  to 
Molino's  cultivation  of  the  Art  of  Memory,  and  to  his  instructor.' 
This,  if  it  were  wanted,  corroborates  the  narrative  of  INIuretus 
whose  trustworthiness,  I  admit,  was  not  quite  as  transcendent  as 
his  genius.- 


1  See  Patili  Mantitii  Epi.itnlfp,  vol.  i.  1.  iii.  ep. 
xiii.  p.  154  (edit.  Knuisc,  1720):  ••Molino, 
jiaruin  abest,  quiu  velifnienter,  iiivideam; 
quid  111?  arttm  Memorm'  teueiiti.  Veriimta- 
men  inipedit  amor,  a  quo  abessa  solet  invidia : 
etiam  ea  spes,  quod  illc,  quo  t'uiii  bono  nlieuus 
homo  impcrtivit,  civi  .suo,  lioniini  amantis- 
simo,  certe  numquam  dene^abit."  Cf.  vol. 
iii.  Notce  ad  Epistolas.  p.  1138.  —  Ed. 

2  "  As  Sophocles  says  that  memory  is  the 
queen  of  tliinf;.s,  and  because  tlie  nurse  of 
poetry  herself  is  a  daufjhter  of  JIneniosyiie, 
I  shall  mention  here  another  once  world- 
renowned  Corsican  of  Calvi  — Giulio  Guidi, 
in  the  year  1581,  the  wonder  of  I'adua,  on 


account  of  his  unfortunate  memory.  He 
could  repeat  thirty-six  thousand  names  after 
ouce  hearing  them.  I'eople  called  him  Guidi 
riellagranmejnoria.  But  he  produced  nothing; 
his  memory  had  killed  all  his  creative  faculty. 
I'ico  von  Mirandola,  who  lived  before  him. 
produced ;  but  he  died  young.  It  is  with  the 
precious  gift  of  memory,  as  with  all  other 
gifts  — they  are  a  curse  of  the  gods  when  they 
give  too  much."  —  Gregorovius,  Wanderings 
ir.  Corsica,  vol.  ii.  book  vi.  chap.  \i.  p.  .34 
(Con.stable's  edition).  [A  case  similar  to  that 
narrated  by  Muretus  is  gi.en  by  Joseph  Scal- 
iger  in  the  Seniiida  Scaligerana,  v.  itx^moirt,  t. 
ii.  p.  450,  451,  edit.  1740.  — Ed .j 


LECTURE    XXXI. 

THE    REPRODUCTIVE    FACULTY.  —  LAWS    OF    ASSOCIATION. 

In  my  last  1-ecture,  I  entered  on  the  consideration  of  that  faculty 
of  mind  by  which  we  keep  possession   of  the 
*^'^''^' "        '  knowledge    acquired   by   the   two   faculties   of 

External  Perception,  and  Self-consciousness ;  and  I  endeavored  ta 
explain  to  you  a  theory  of  the  manner  in  which  the  fact  of  reten- 
tion may  be  accounted  for^  in  conformity  to  the  nature  of  mind,, 
considered  as  a  self-active  and  indivisible  subject.  At  the  conclu- 
sion of  the  Lecture,  I  gave  you,  instar  omiiium,  one  memorable 
example  of  the  prodigious  differences  which  exist  between  mind 
and  mind  in  the  capacity  of  retention.     Before  passing  from  the 

faculty  of  Memory,   considered   simply  as   the 

Two  opposite  doc-       power  of  Conservation,  I  may  notice  two  oppo- 

trines  maintained  in       gi^e   doctrines,  that   have  been   maintained,  in 

regard  to  the  relations       ^,^  ^^^.^    ^^   ^j^^   relation   of  this   faculty  to  the 

of    Memory    to     the  _°  _  •'  . 

higher  powers  of  higher  powcrs  of  mind.  One  of  these  doctrines 
mind.  holds,  that  a  great  development  of  memory  is- 

incompatible  with  a  high  degree  of  intelligence  y 
the  other,  that  a  high  degree  of  intelligence  supposes  such  a  devel- 
opment of  memory  as  its  condition. 

The  former  of  these  opinions  is  one  very  extensively  prevalent,. 

not  only  amons;  philosophers,  but  among  man- 

1.   That    a    great        .  .     ,     .   "^  i  i     A  i  z>      .• 

power  of  memory  is       kmd    m    general,    and    the   words  — ^ea«^    me- 

incompatibie  with  a  moHa,  expectcintes  judicium  —  have  been  ap- 
high  degree  of  inteiii-  p|ig^^  ^q  express  the  supposed  incompatibility 
^^^^^'  of  great  memory  and  sound  judgment.^     There 

seems,  however,  no  valid  ground  for  this  belief.  If  an  extraor- 
dinary power  of  retention  is  frequently  not  accompanied  with  a 
corresponding  power  of  intelligence,  it  is  a  natural,  but  not  a  very 
logical  procedure,  to  jumj)  to  the  conclusion,  that  a  great  memory 

1  [Niethammer,  Der  Streit  des  Philanthropin-  Erfahrung  (beati  memoria  exspectant  judi- 
ismus  und  Humanismus,  p.  294.]  [Ausserdem  ciiim),  dass  vorherrscheiide  Geddchtniss/ertiff- 
gey  es  eine  selbst  Sprichwortlich  gewordene      keit  der  Uriheilshraft  Ahhruch  tliue.  —  Ed.]      / 


Lect.  XXXI.  METAPHYSICS.  425 

is  inconsistent  with  a  sound  judgment.     The   opinion  is  refuted 

by  the  slightest  induction  ;  for  we  immediately 
This  opinion  refuted  j\^^^\^  that  many  of  the  individuals  who  towered 
I  1^*^,*   •   '"'''""P*'*       above  their  fellows  in  intellectual   superioiitv, 

of    high    intelligence  ... 

and  great  memory.  Avcre  almost  equally  distinguished  for  the  capac 

ity  of  their  memory.     I  recently  quoted  to  you 

a  passage  from  the  Scal'ujerana^  in  which  Joseph  Scaliger  is  made 

to  say  that  he  had  not  a  good  memory,  but  a 

Joseph   Scaliger.  /  .    .  ^    ^        ■  t    .   i  n 

good  remmiscence;  and  he  immediately  adds^ 
"never,  or  rarely,  aie  judgment  and  a  great  memory  found  in  con- 
junction." Of  this  opinion  Scaliger  himself  affords  the  most  illus- 
trious refutation.  During  his  lifetime,  he  was  hailed  as  the  Dic- 
tator of  the  llepulthc  of  Letters,  and  posterity  has  ratified  the 
decision  of  his  contemporaries,  in  crowning  him  as  the  prince  of 
philologers  and  critics.  But  to  elevate  a  man  to  such  an  emiiience,. 
it  is  evident,  that  the  most  consummate  genius  and  ability  were 

con<litioiis.  And  what  were  the  powers  of  Scali- 
Hi.  great  powers  of  ^^^    ^^^^^    Casauboii,!    aiiioug    a    hundred 

memory  testified  to  bv  .  .  i    /->  i 

Casaubon  other  Witnesses,  mionu  us;  and  Casaubon  was. 

a  scholar  second  only  to  Scaliger  himself  in 
erudition.  "  Nihil  est  quod  discere  quisquam  vellet,  quod  ille 
(Scaliger)  docere  noii  posset :  Nihil  legerat  (quid  :uiteiii  ille  non 
legerat?),  quod  non  statim  meminisset;  nihil  tam  ol)scurum  aut 
abolitum  in  uUo  vetere  scriptore  Graeco,  Latino,  vel  Ilebraeo,  de  quo 
interrogatus  non  statim  responderet.  Histoi'ias  omnium  populorum^ 
omnium  letatum,  successiones  imperiorum,  res  ecclesiffi,  veteris  in 
numerato  habebat :  animalium,  })Luitarum,  metalloruin,  omniumque 
rerum  naturalium,  projn'ietates,  differentias,  et  appellationes,  qua 
veteres,  qua  recentes,  tenebat  accurate.  Locorum  situs,  provinci- 
arum  fines  et  varias  pro  temporibus  illarum  divisiones  ad  unguem 
callebat ;  nullam  disciplinarum,  scientiarumve  gravioruni  reliquerat 
intactam ;  linguas  tam  multas  tam  exacte  sciebat,  ut  vol  si  hoc 
unum  per  totum  vitaj  spatium  egisset  digna  res  miraculo  potuerit 
videri." 

For  intellectual  power  of  the  highest  order,  none  were  distin- 
guished above  Grotius  and  Pascal;  and  Grotius* 
Grotius.     ra.scul  .^^^^j  i>.,scal  ■  forixot  nothiiiiX  thev  had  ever  read 

Leibnitz.     Kuler.  '  .  '  -,   -t^    \       • 

or  thought.  Lcibnit/,*  ami  Kuler'  were  not  less 
celebrated  for  their  intelliLrence   than   lor  ihcir  ineinurv,  .ind  both 


o^ 


1  \?rffnt\n  in  Opuxaila  Jo.t.  Jiisti  Scnligfri.]  4  Fontenellc,  Eloge ilt  M.  Leibnitz  —Leib  Op 

"  Grolii  M/mes  Vmtlirnri  [\727).  Jinrs  ]io.of.  p.  p   XX.  (edit    Diiten.s).  —  El>. 
585.  —  Ei>.  •''  [!?iniiilr,   Vrrxuch  eintr  Systrtnnlifrhfti   Be 

3   Penicfs,  I'rel'  (ed.  Reuouard). -- Ku.  hnmUung  ilir  tmpirisrhen  Pji/c'ioi<Jg-i>,  i.  356.] 

54 


426  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXL 

could  repeat  the  whole  of  the  ^neid.     Donellus^  knew  the  Corpus 

Juris  by  heart,  and  yet  he  was  one  of  the  pro- 

Donellus.  foundest  and  most  original  speculators  in  juris- 

Muratori.  2^^*"<^^^''*^'C-     Muratori,"  though  not  a  genius  of 

the  A^ery  liighest  order,  was  stilZ  a  man  of  great 

ability  and  judgment;   and  so  powerful  was  his  retention,  that  in 

making  quotations,  he  had  only  to  read  his  passages,  put  the  books 

„     ^  in  their  idace,  and  then  to  write  out  from  mem- 

Ben  Jonson. 

ory  the  words.  Ben  Jonson''  tells  us  that  he 
could  repeat  all  he  had  ever  written,  and  whole  books  that  he  had 

read.     Themistocles^  could  call  by  their  names 
emis  oc  es  ^j^^  twenty  thousand  citizens  of  Athens ;  Cyrus ^ 

Cyrus,  _  *  '       ^ 

Hortensius.  ^^  reported  to  have  known  the  name  of  every 

soldier  in  his   army.     Hortensius,  after  Cicero, 

the  greatest  orator  of  Rome,  after  sitting  a  whole  day  at  a  public 

sale,  correctly  enunciated  from  memory  all  the  things  sold,  their 

prices,  and  the  names  of  the  purchasers.*'     Nie- 

Niebulir.  i      i      7     i        i  •  •  f.  t-» 

buhr,^  the  historian  of  Rome,  Avas  not  less  dis- 
tinguished for  his  memory  than  for  his  acuteness.  In  his  youtli 
he  was  employed  in  one   of  the  public  offices  of  Denmark  ;   part 

of  a  book  of  accounts  having  been  destroyed, 

ijirJames Mackintosh.  t    •      r>  •  •  c  • 

he  restored  it  from  his  recollection.  Sir  James 
Mackintosh  was,  likewise,  remarkable  for  his  j^ower  of  memory.  An 
instance  I  can  gi^^e  vou  wliich  I  Avitnessed  mvself  In  a  conversa- 
tion  I  had  with  him,  Ave  happened  to  touch  upon  an  author  whom  I 
mentioned  in  my  last  Lecture,  —  ]Muretus ;  and  Sir  James  recited 
from  his  oration  in  praise  of  the  massacre  of  St.  BartholomcAV  some 

considcral)le  passages.  Mr.  Dugald  SteAA\ait,  and 
uga       ewa  .  ^^^  ^.^^^^  j^^.  Qj.poQry  are,  likewise,  examples  of 

Dr.  Gregory.  .  . 

great  talent,  united  with  great  memory. 
But  if  there  be  no  ground  for  the  vulgar  opinion,  that  a  strong 
faculty  of  retention  is  incompatible  Avith  intel- 
2.  That  a  iiigh  de-       lectual  capacity  in  general,  the  converse  opinion 

g  ee    o    in  ei  igence       ^^  ^^^   better  founded,  which  has  been  main- 
supposes  great  power  ^  ' 

of  memory.  tained,  among  others,  by  Hoffbauei*.^     This  doc- 

trine does  not,  hoAvever,  deserve  an  articulate 
refutation ;  for  the   common  experience  of  every  one   sufficiently 

1  Teissier,  Eloges  des  Hommes  Savans,  t.  iv.  5  Pliny,  Nat.  Hist.  vii.  24.     Quintilian,  Oral. 
p.  146.  — Ed.  xi.  2.— Ed. 

2  [Biunde,  Versiich.  etc.,  as  above.]    [  Vita  lii  *<  Seneca  (M  )  Controv.  Pref.  —  Ed. 
JVfi/ra<or(,  c.  xi.  p  236.  —  Ed  ]  "  See   Life   of  Niebuhr,  vol.   ii.  p.  412,  413, 

•"•  Timber :  or,  Di.'^coveriex  made  upon  Men  and  where  a  similar  anecdote  is  mentioned,   but 

.Matter  (  HVt,<,ed.  Gifford,  vol.  ix.  p.  169.)— Ed.  not  exactly  as  stated  in  the  text.     See  also 

■*  (Cicero.  De  Senectute,  c.  vii.     A'al.  Maxi-  vol.  i.  c.  vii.  p.  298.— Ed. 

mus,  viii   7.  —  Ed.  S  [See   Biunde,    Versuch  einer  systematischen 


Lect.  XXXI.  METAPHYSICS.  427 

proves  that  intelligence  and  memory  hold  no  necessary  proportion 

to  each   other.     On  this  subject  I  may  refer  you  to  Mr.  Stewart's 

excellent  chapter  on  Memory  in  the  first  volume  of  his  Elements} 

I  now  pass  to  the  next  faculty  in  order — the  faculty  which  1 

have  called  the  Reproductive.     I  am  not  satis- 

The  Reproductive         ,.     -,.,1.  ^-,1  ^  •     i        c 

Faculty.    This  name       ^^^^  ^ith  this  name  ;  for  It  does  not  precisely  of 
inappropriate;  the  Urn-       itsclf  mark  what  I  wish  to  be  expressed,  —  viz., 
itatiou  in  which  it  is       ^j^g    proccss   by  w^iicli  what  is   lying  dormant 
lereempoyec.  .^  memory  is  awakened,  as  contradistinguished 

from  tlie  representation  in  consciousness  of  it  as  awakened.  The 
two  ]irocesses  certainly  suppose  each  other;  for  we  cannot  awaken 
a  cognition  without  it?  being  represented, —  the  representation 
being,  in  fact,  only  its  state  of  waking ;  nor  can  a  latent  thought  or 
affection  be  represented,  unless  certain  conditions  be  fultilled,  by 
which  it  is  called  out  of  obscurity  into  the  light  of  consciousness. 
The  two  processes  are  relative  and  correlative,  but  not  more  iden- 
tical than  hill  and  valley.  I  am  not  satisfied,  I  say,  with  the  term 
reproduction  for  the  j)rocess  by  Avliich  the  dormant  thought  or  att'ec- 
tion  is  aroused ;  for  it  does  not  clearly  denote  what  it  is  intended  to 
express.  Perhaps  the  liesuscUatwe  Faculty  Avould  have  been 
better;  and  the  term  r( production  might  have  been  emi)loyed  to 
comprehend  the  whole  process,  made  up  of  the  correlative  acts  of 
retention,  resuscitation,  and  representation.  Be  this,  however,  as  it 
may,  I  shall  at  present  continue  to  employ  the  term,  in  the  limited 
meanini;  I  have  alreadv  assigned. 

The  ])h{enomenon  of  Reproduction  is  one  of  the  most  wonderful 

in  the  whole  compass  of  psychology ;    and  it  is 

Interest  excited  by       ouc  ill  the  explanation  of  which  philosophy  has 

the  j.hanomenon    of       j^^^j^  j^^^j.^  succcssful  than  iu  almost  any  other. 

Reproduction.  _,,  ,      ,        •  1      1       •    .  ..^       i" 

.^,    ^  ,     ,  The  scholastic  psvchologists  seem  to   have  re- 

fhe  Schoolmen.  1.0^ 

garded  the  succession  in  the  train  of  thought,  or, 
as  they  called  it,  the  excitation  of  the  species,  with  peculiar  wonder, 
as  one  of  the  most  inscrutable  mysteries  of  nature  ;  an«l  yet,  wliat  is 

<Mirious,  Aristotle  has  left  almost  as  complete  an 
Ari.toties  analysis       analysis  of  the  laws  by  which  this  phivnoinenon 

of  the    pliaMioi'.ienun,  .  ,ti  .1  i-iiT* 

.  ,  IS  re<nilated,  as  has  vet  been   :iccomplislRMl.     It 

nearly  i)erfect.  .-<  1  .  1 

requireil,  liowever,  a  c<msiderable  j>rogress  in 
the  inductive  philosojihy  of  mind,  before  this  analysis  of  Aristotle 
could  be  appreciated  at  its  |>roper  value ;  antl  in  fact,  it  was  only 
after  modern   jihilosophers  liad  retliscovered  the  i)rincipal  laws  of 

B<ltanrilHns  'l^r  rmpirifchfn    Pxi/rholm^lr,  i.  357,      hiiuer,  Kalurlehre  der   SeeU  in  Brtf/en,   p.  181— 
•where  IIoflThuucris  referred  to.]    [See  noff-     l.'^.  —  Kd  ] 

1  C  hap.  vi.     Works,  ii.  .348.  —  Kd. 


428  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXI 

Association,  that  it  was  found  that  tliese  laws  had  been  more  com- 
pletely given  two  thousand  years  before.  VJosepIT 
Scairrer*^*"^  Scaliger,  speaking  of  his  father,  whose  philosojili 

ical  acuteness  I  have  more  than  once  had  occa- 
sion to  commemorate,  says,  "  My  father  declared,  that  of  the  causes 
of  three  things  in  particular  he  was  wholly  ignorant, —  of  the  inter- 
val of  fevers,  of  tlie  ebb  and  flow  of  the  sea,  and  of  reminiscence."  ' 

The  excitation  of  the  species  is  declared  by  Pon- 
oncius.  cius^  to  be  "one  of  the  most  difiicult  secrets  of 

Oviedo, 

nature"  (ex  difficilioribus  naturae  arcanis);  and 
Oviedo,^  a  Jesuit  schoolman,  says,  "therein  lies  the  very  greatest 
mystery  of  all  philosophy  (maximum  totius  philosophise  sacranien- 
tum),  never  to  be  competently  explained  by  human  ingenuity;" 
"  and  this  because  we  can  neither  discover  the  cause  Avhich,  for  ex- 
ample, in  the  recitation  of  an  oration,  excites  the  species  in  the  or- 
der in  which  they  are  excited,  nor  the  reason  why  often,  when  wish- 
ing to  recollect  a  matter,  we  do  not,  whereas  when  not  wishing  to 
recollect  it,  we  sometimes  do.  Hence  the  same  Poncius  says,  that 
for  the  excitation  of  the  species  we  must  eithei'  recur  at  once  to  God,, 
or  to  some  sufficient  cause,  Avhich,  however,  he  does  not  specify^  •* 
The  faculty  of  Reproduction  is  governed  by  the  laws  which 
regulate  the  Association  of  the  mental  train ;  or. 

Reproduction,  what.  ,         .         . 

to  Speak  more  correctly,  reproduction  is  nothing 
but  the  result  of  these  laws.  Every  one  is  conscious  of  a  ceaseless 
succession  or  train  of  thoughts,  one  thought  suggesting  another,, 
which  again  is  the  cause  of  exciting  a  third,  and  so  on.  In  what 
manner,  it  may  be  asked,  does  the  presence  of  any  thought  deter- 
mine the  introduction  of  another?  Is  the  train  subject  to  laws,  and 
if  so,  by  what  laws  is  it  regulated  ? 

That  the  elements   of  the   mental   train    are   not   isolated,   but 

that  each  thought  forms  a  link  of  a  continuous. 
The  train  of  thought       .^^^j  uninterrupted  chain,  is  well  illustrated  by 

subject  to  laws.    Tliis         tt   i  i  t  •  i  •    i 

illustrated  by  Hobbes.       Hobl)es.     "In  a  Company,     he  says,  "in  which 

the  conversation  turned  upon  the  late  civil  war, 
what  could  be  conceived  more  impertinent  than  for  a  person  to  ask 
abru|)tly,  what  was  the  value  of  a  Koman  denarius  ?  On  a  little 
reflection,  however,  I  was  easily  able  to  trace  the  train  of  thought 
which  suggested  the  question  ;  for  the  original  subject  of  discourse 

1  [Prima  Scnligeruna,  v.  ''Causa,'']  [t.  ii.  p.  De  Anima,   Cont.  v.  punct.  iv.  n.  13]    [€( 
46,  edit.  1740.  —  Ed  ]  Reid's  Works,  >'ote  D  *  *,  p.  889.  —  Ed.) 

2  [Poncius,   Cursus  Philosophicus,  De  Anima,  4  fFr.  IJona  Spei,  Physica,  p.  iv.     Indf  Ani- 
Disp.  Ixiii.  qu.  iii.  concl.  3.]  ma,  disp.  x.  p.  94.     Cf.  Ancillon,  Essais  Phi 

2  [Francisci   de    Oviedo   Cursus  Philoxophicus,      los.  (Xouv.  Md.)  \.  ii.  c.  Hi.  p.  VS9.1 


Lect.  XXXI.  METAPHYSICS.  429 

naturally  introduced  the  history  of  the  king,  and  of  the  treachery  of 
those  who  surrendered  his  person  to  his  enemies;  this  again  intro- 
duced the  treachery  of  Judas  Iscariot,  and  the  sura  of  money  whicb 
he  received  for  his  reward.* 

But   if  thoughts,   and   feelings,   and    conations    (for   you   must 

observe,   that  the   train  is  not  limited  to  the 

The  expression  train       pi,fe„omena   of  cognition   only),-  do  not  arise 

of  thought  includes  the         ^  i  ,       •  i 

phenomena  of  Cogni-  <^i   thciusclves,   Dut  Only  in   causal   connection 

tion,  Feeling  and  Cou-  with    preceding   and   subsequent    modifications 

**'°°*  of  mind,  it  remains  to  be  asked  and  answered,  — 

Is  there  any  law  be-  Do  the  links  of  this  chain  follow  each  other 

sides  that  of  simple  ^^^^.^^^,           ^^j^^^.  condition  than  that  of  simple 

connection  which  reg-  ... 

uiates  this  train  ?  connection,  —  111  other  words,  may  any  thought, 

feeling,  or  desire,  be  connected  Avith  any  other? 
Or,  is  the  succession  regulated  by  other  and  special  laws,  according 
to  which  certain  kinds  of  modification  exclusively  precede,  and 
exclusively  follow,  each  other?  The  slightest  observation  of  the 
phrenomenon  shows,  that  the  latter  alternative  is  the  case  ;  and  on 
this  all  philosophers  are  agreed.    Nor  do  philosophers  differ  in  regard 

to  what  kind  of  thoughts  (and  under  that  term. 

The  point  on  which       you  will  remark,  I  at  present  include  also  feel- 

phiiosophers     diiTer;       ^^^        ^^^^    conatt'ons)    are    associated   together. 

and    question    to    be  '  t  ,.         ,  i      •       i       •  ^  i 

considered.  i  hey  difter  almost  exclusively  in  regard  to  the 

subordinate  question,  of  how  these  thoughts 
ought  to  be  classified,  and  carried  up  into  system.  This,  therefore, 
is  the  question  to  which  4  shall  aildress  myself,  referring  you 
for  illustrations  and  examples  of  the  fact  and  effects  of  Association, 
to  the  chapter  on  the  subject  in  the  first  volume  of  Mr.  Stewart's 
Elemoits^  in  Avhich  you  will  find  its  details  treated  with  great 
eleijance  and  abilitv. 

In  my  last  Lecture,  I  explained  to  you  how  thoughts,  once  expe- 
rienced, remain,  though  out  of   consciousness, 
rondifionsofRepro-       Still  ill  posscssioii  of  the  mind;  and  I  have  now 
duction,  as   general-       ^^  ^\^Q^y  ^q,,^  ]i,,^^.    ^j^^gg   thoughts   retained  in 

ized  by  philosophers;  '  .    ,  • .    .•        c  •  ^i 

,,  memorv,  m.iv,  Without  any  excitation  from  With- 

in all  seven  .  '         .  '  J 

out,  be  .'ig:iin  retrieved  by  an  excitation  or 
awakening  from  other  tlioughts  witliin.  Philosophers  having 
observed,  that  one  thought  determined   another  to  arise,  and  that 


1  L^'t^iaJ/ian,  part  i.  chap.  iii. —En.  J57i?wif nr.i,  i. c.  v.    irorA.^,  vol.  ii.  p.  257    Ilrowu, 

2  [Cf  Fries,  yl»i(Aro/)o/i)^/>,  vol.  i  5  S,  p.  20,  Philosophy  of  the  Hitman  MinJ,  Icct.  xliv.  p. 
«dit.  1820.  Kritik,  i.  5  3.3.  H.  Scliniid,  V,r.  282  (edit  1R30).]  [For  Aristotle,  see  Reitt, 
such  einer  Mnnphysik  rlrr  inneren  Nattir,  pp.  2.'3<),  Works,  p.  892,  89.3.  —  Ed.] 

342.     Carus,  PjycWoffiV,  i.  p.  18.3.     Stewart.  3  Chap.  v.     Hori^,  ii.  252.  —  Ed. 


430  METAPHYSICS.  \         Lect.  XXXI 

this  determination  only  took  place  between  thoughts  which  stood 
in  certain  relations  to  each  other,  set  themselves  to  ascertain  and 
classify  the  kinds  of  correlation  under  which  this  occurred,  in  ordei 
to  generalize  the  laws  by  which  the  phsenomenon  of  Reproduction 
was  governed.  Accordingly,  it  has  been  established,  that  thoughts 
are  associated,  that  is,  are  able  to  excite  each  other; —  1°,  If  coexis- 
tent, or  immediately  successive,  in  time ;  2°,  If  their  objects  are 
conterminous  or  adjoining  in  space;  3°,  If  they  hold  the  dependence 
to  each  other  of  cause  and  effect,  or  of  mean  and  end,  or  of  whole 
and  part ;  4°,  If  they  stand  in  a  relation  either  of  contrast  or  of 
similarity;  5°,  If  they  are  the  operations  of  the  same  power,  or  of 
different  powers  conversant  about  the  same  object ;  6°,  If  their 
objects  are  the  sign  and  the  signified;  or,  7°,  Even  if  their  objects 
are  accidentally  denoted  by  the  same  sound.     These,  as  far  as  I 

recollect,  are  all  the  classes  to  which  philoso- 

Aristotie  reduces  the       p^ers  have  attempted  to  reduce  the  principles  of 

,    '         .,  .     ,.  .^,         Mental  Association.     Aristotle  recalled  the  laws 

three;    and  implicitly 

to  oiie  canon.  of  this  Connection  to  four,  or  rather  to  three,  — 

Contiguity  in  time  and  space,  Resemblance,  and 

Contrariety.^     He  even  seems  to  have  thought  they  miglit  all  be 

carried  up  into  the  one  law  of  Coexistence. 
St.  Augustin  expiic-       Aristotlc  implicitly,  St.  Augustin^  explicitly, — 

itiy  reduces  these  laws       ^^,j^.^^  ^^^  ^^^^^.  y^^^^  observed,  —reduces  associ- 

to    one,  —  wliich    the 

author  calls  the  law  of      =^tion  to  a  Single  canoii,  —  VIZ.,    Thoughts  that 

Redintegration.  liavc  oncc  Coexisted  in  the  mind  are  afterwards 

Maiebranche.  associated.     This  law,  which  I  would  call  the 

Wolf.  ^  f-T^      -,■  ■  r-  1  T 

Biifinn^er  "^^  ^^  Redintegration,  was  afterwards  enounced 

Hume.  by   Maiebranche,^  Wolf,*  and    Bilfinger ;  '    but 

without  any   reference  to   St.  Austin.      Hume, 

who  thinks  himself  the  first  philosojjher  -who  had  ever  attempted  to 

generalize  the  laws  of  association,  makes  them  three,  — Resemblance, 

Contiguity  in  time  and  place,  and  Cause  and 

Gerard.      Beattie.  .       "^  .  ^ 

Effect."     Gerard'  and  Beattie*  adopt,  with  little 
modification,  the  Aristotelic    classification.      Omitting   a   hundred 

others,  whose  opinions  would  be  curious  in  a  his- 
stewart.   Brown.  ^^  ^j^^  doctrine,  I  shall  notice  only  Stewart 

Stewart  quoted.  -^  „     ^  . 

and  Brown.     Stewart,-'  after  disclaiming  any  at- 

1  De  Memoriaet  Reminiscentia.c.ii.^xin.-'El)-  7  Essay  on  Taste,  part  iii.   §  i.  pp.  167,168, 

2  Con/essiones,  lib.  X.  chap,  xix  — Ed.  edit.  1759  — Ed 

3  Recherche  de  la  Vcrite,  1.  ii.  C.  v.  — Ed.  S  Dissertations,  Moral  and  Critical Of  Iiri' 

4  Psychologia  Empirica,  ^  230.  —  Ed.  agination,   c    ii.   §   1  et  scq.,  p    78.     Cf.  pp.9 

5  See  Reid's  Works,  p.  899.  —Ed.  145.  —  Ed. 

6  Enquiry  concerning  Human  Understanding,  9  Elements,   vol.  ii.   c   V.   part   i.   sect-    ii 
•ect.  iii.  — Ed.  Works,  vol.  iii.  p.  263.  — Ed. 


Lect.  XXXI  METAPHYSICS.  431 

tempt  at  a  complete  enumeration,  mentions  two  classes  of  circum- 
stances as  useful  to  be  observed.  "The  relations,"  he  says,  "upon 
which  some  of  them  are  founded,  are  perfectly  obvious  to  the  mind; 
those  which  are  the  foundation  of  others,  are  discovered  onl}-  in 
consequence  of  particular  eiforts  of  attention.  Of  the  former  kind 
are  the  relations  of  Resemblance  and  Analogy,  of  Contrariety,  of 
Vicinity  in  time  and  jjlace,  and  those  which  arise  from  accidental 
coincidences  in  the  sound  of  different  words.  These,  in  general, 
connect  our  thoughts  together,  when  they  are  suffered  to  take  their 
natural  coui-se,  and  when  we  are  conscious  of  little  or  no  active 
exertion.  Of  the  latter  kind  are  tlie  relations  of  Cause  and  Effect, 
of  Means  and  End,  of  Premises  and  Conclusion  ;  and  those  others 
which  regulate  the  train  of  thought  in  tlie  mind  of  the  philosopher, 
when  he  is  engaged  in  a  particular  investigation." 

Brown ^    divides    the    circumstances    affecting    association    into 
primary  and    secondary.      Under   tlie   primary 

Prown's  ciassifica-  ^^^^.^  ^^  Suggestion,  he  includes  Resemblance, 
Contrast,  Contiguity  in  time  and  place,  —  a  clas- 
sification identical  with  Aristotle's.  By  the  secondary,  lie  means 
the  vivacity,  the  recentness,  and  the  frequent  repetition  of  our 
thoughts;  circumstances  which,  though  they  exert  an  influence  on 
the  recurrence  of  our  tliouglits,  belong  to  a  different  order  of  causes 
from  those  we  are  at  present  considering.- 

Now  all  the  laws   Avhicli   T   liave  liitherto  enumerated  may  be 

easily  reduced  to  two, — the  law  of  the  Simul- 

The  laws  enumerated       tancity,  and   the   law    of  the   Resemblance    or 

admit  of  reduction  to       Affinity,  of  Tliouglit.''      Under  Simultaneity  I 

two;    and    tliese   two         -ii't  t    j.      r^  4.-  •*•,*.      4.i„ 

niclude  Immediate  Consecution  in  tune     to  the 

again    to    one    grand 

law.  other  category  of  Affinity  every  other  circum- 

stance may  be  reduced.  I  shall  take  the  several 
cases  I  have  above  cnuuRTated,  and  Imving  exenii)litii'i]  their  influ- 
ence as  associating  principles,  I  shall  show  how  they  arc  all  only 
special  modifications  of  the  two  laws  of  Simultaneity  and  Affinity; 
which  two  laws,  I  shall  finally  prove  to  you,  are  themselves  only 
modifications  of  one  supreme  law,  —  the  law  of  Redintegration. 

The  first  law, — ^^  that  of  Simultaneity,  or  of  Coexistence  ami 
Immediate  Succession  in  time,  —  is  too  evident  to  require  any 
illustration.     "In  passing  along  a  road,"  as  Mr.  Stewart*  observes, 


1  PhUosophy  of  the  Human  Mind,  ]ects.xxxiv.  der  innertn  NnUir,i>  2-Jl.     [Cf.  Frie«,  Anthro 
xxxvii.  —  Ed.  pologif,  i  }  8,  p.  29  (edit.  1S20)]. 

2  See  Rdd's  Worku,  p.  910.  —Ed.  •«  Elrmrntf,  vol.  i.  C  v.  p.  i,  i  1.     Works,  ii 
8  See   U.  Schmid,  Versuck  tiner  Metaphysik  252,  263.  —  Ed. 


432  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXl 

*'  which  we  have  formerly  travelled  in  the  company  of  a  friend,  the 

particulars  of  the  conversation  in  which  we  were 
The  influence  of  the       tlicu  engaged,  are  frequently  suggested  to  us  by 

special  laws,  as  associ-         .1  i  •       .  ^       -^i         t  ^ 

^.        .    .  ,     .,,  the  obiects  we  meet  with.     In  such  a  scene,  we 

ating  principles,  illus-  ''  _  ' 

trated.  recollect  that  a  particular  subject  was  started; 

I.  TheiawofSimni-  ^'^^^  ^"^  passing  the  different  houses,  and  plauta- 
taneity.  tions,  and  rivers,  the  arguments  we  were  discus- 
sing when  we  last  saw  them,  recur  spontane- 
ously to  the  memory.  The  connection  which  is  formed  in  the 
mind  between  the  Avords  of  a  language  and  the  ideas  they  denote; 
the  connection  Avhich  is  formed  between  the  different  words  of  a 
discourse  we  have  committed  to  memory ;  the  connection  between 
the  different  notes  of  a  piece  of  music  in  the  mind  of  the  musician, 
are  all  obvious  instances  of  the  same  general  law  of  our  nature." 

The  second  law,  —  that  of  the  Affinity  of  thoughts,  —  will  be 
best  illustrated  by  the  cases  of  which  it  is  the 

II.  The  law  of  Af-       more  general  expression.     In  the  first  jjlace,  in 
^°'*y  the  case  of  resembling,  or  analogous,  or  partially 

identical  obiects,  it  will  not  be  denied  that  these 

^embling,    analogous,  _  ^  ' 

or  partially  identical       virtually  suggest  each  Other.     The  imagination 
objects.  of  Alexander  carries  me  to  the  imagination  of 

Caesar,  Caesar  to  Charlemagne,  Charlemagne  lo 

Napoleon.      The  vision  of  a  portrait  suggests  the  image  of  the 

person  portrayed.      In  a  company  one  anecdote  suggests  another 

analogous,  t  This  princii^le  is  admirably  illustrated  from  the  mouth 

fof  Shak&peare's  Merchant  of  Venice; 

"  My  wind,  cooling  my  broth, 
Would  blow  me  to  an  ague,  when  I  thought. 
What  harm  a  wind  too  ^reat  might  do  at  sea. 
I  should  not  see  the  sandy  hour-glass  run, 
But  I  should  think  of  shallows  and  of  flats. 
And  see  my  wealthy  Andiew  dock'd  in  sand,     . 
Vailing  her  high  top  lower  than  her  ribs. 
To  kiss  her  burial.     Should  I  go  to  church. 
And  see  the  holy  edifice  of  stone, 
And  not  bethink  me  strait  of  dang'rous  rocks? 
"Which,  touching  but  my  gentle  vessel's  side, 
Would  scatter  all  the  spices  on  the  stream. 
Enrobe  the  roaring  waters  with  my  silks; 
And  in  a  word, —  but  even  now  worth  this. 
And  now  worth  nothing."  1 

1  Merchant  of  Venice,  act  i.  Scene  i. 


Lect.  XXXI.  METAPHYSICS.  433 

That  resembling,  analogous,  or  partially  identical  objects  stand  in 
reciprocal  affinity,  is  apparent ;  they  are  its  strongest  exemplifica- 
tions.    So  far  there  is  no  difficulty. 

In  the  second   place,  thoughts   standing  to  each  other  in  the 

relation  of  contrariety  or  contrast,  are  mutually 

2.  The  case  of  con-       suggestive.     Thus  the  thought  of  vice  suggests 

trarv     or     contrasted  ,         ,  i  ,       r.     •    .  ^    ^     ^\  i    i  11 

the  thouijht  of  virtue ;  and,  in  the  mental  world, 

thoughts.  o  '  ' 

the  prince  and  the  peasant,  kings  and  beggars, 
are  inseparable  concomitants.  On  this  principle  are  dependent 
those  associations  which  constitute  the  charms  of  antithesis  and 
wit.  pTlius  the  whole  pathos  of  Milton's  apostrophe  to  light,  lies  in 
the  contrast  of  his  own  darkness  to  the  resplendent  object  he 
addresses : 

"  Hail,  holy  light,  offspring  of  heaven  first-born, 

Thee  I  revisit  safe, 
And  feel  thy  sovran  vital  lamp ;  but  thou 
Revisit'st  not  these  eyes,  that  roll  in  vain 
To  find  thy  piercing  ray,  and  find  no  dawn."  ^ 

It  is  contrast  that  animates  the  Ode  of  Horace  to  Archytas: 

"  Te  maris  et  terrae,  numeroque  carcntis  arenas 
Mensorem  cohibent,  Archyta, 
Pulveris  exigui  prope  littus  parva  Matinum 

Munera :  nee  quidquam  tibi  prodest 
Aerias  tcntasse  domos,  imimoque  rotundum 
rcrcurrisse  poluni,  morituro."- 

The  same  contrast  illuminates  the  stanza  of  Gray : 

"  The  boast  of  heraldry,  the  pomp  of  power. 
And  all  that  beauty,  all  that  wealth  ere  gave, 
Awaits  alike  the  inevitable  hour;  — 
The  paths  of  glory  lead  but  to  the  grave." 

And  in  what  else  does  the  beauty  of  the  following  line  consist,  but 
in  the  contrast  and  connection  of  life  and  death ;  life  being  repre- 
sented as  but  a  wayfaring  from  grave  to  grave  ? 

Who  can  think  of  Marius  sitting  amid  the  ruins  of  Carthage, 
•without  thinking  of  the  resemblance  of  the  consul  and  the  city,  — 

I  Poi-arfise  Loif,  book  iii.  — Ed.     2  Carm.  i   xxviii.  —  Ed.      3  [Gregor.  Naiitni.   Camt.  xlr.\ 

55 


3.  The  law  of  con 
tiguity. 


434  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXI 

without  thinking  of  the  difFerence  between  their  past  and  present 
fortunes?  And  in  the  incomparable  epigram  of  Molsa  on  the  great 
Pompey,  the  effect  is  produced  by  the  contrast  of  the  life  and  death 
of  the  hero,  and  in  the  conversion  of  the  very  fact  of  his  post- 
humous dishonor  into  a  theme  of  the  noblest  panegyric. 

"  Dux,  Pharia  quamvis  jaceas  inhumatus  arena, 
Non  ideo  fati  est  savior  ira  tui : 
Indignum  fuerat  tcUus  tibi  victa  scpulcrum ; 
Non  decuit  ca'lo,  te,  nisi,  Magne,  tegi.''^ 

Thus  that  objects,  though  contrasted,  are  still  akin,  —  still  stand 

to  each  other  in  a  relation  of  affinity,  dej^ends 

Depends  on  the  log-       ^n  their  logical  analogy.     The  axiom,  that  the 

ical    principle,  —  that         i  i     i  r>  ^        -^       •  ,  , 

...       ,  ,      _  knowledo-e  oi  contraries  is  one,  proves  that  the 

the  knowledge  of  con-  ®  '  ^ 

traries  is  one.  thought  of  the  one  involves  the  thought  of  the 

other.2 
In  the  third  place,  objects  contiguous  in  place  are  associated, 
j  You  recollect  the  famous  passage  of  Cicero  in 

the  first  chapter  of  the  fifth  book  De  FinibuSy 

of  which  the  following  is  the  conclusion:  — 
"Tanta  vis  admonitionis  est  in  locis,  ut,  non  sine  causa,  ex  his 
memoriae  deducta  sit  disciplina.  ...  Id  quidem  infinitum  in 
hac  urbe ;  quocumque  enini  ingredimur,  in  aliquam  historiam  vesti- 
gium ponimiis."  '  But  how  do  objects  adjacent  in  place  stand  in 
affinity  to  each  other  ?  Simply  because  local  contiguity  binds  up 
objects,  otherwise  unconnected,  into  a  single  object  of  perceptive 
thought. 

In  the  fourth  place,  thoughts  of  the  whole  and  the  parts,  of  the 

thing  and  its  properties,  of   the   sign   and  the 

4.  The  law  of  whole         .i  •  •       -a     ^  r    .ti  •*.    •  a  ^ 

thingr  sis;nmed,  —  oi    these  it  is  supernuous  to 

and  parts,  etc.  .  .  .  . 

illustrate  either  the  reality  of  the  influence,  or 
to  show  that  they  are  only  so  many  forms  of  affinity;  both  are 
equally  manifest.  But  in  this  case  affinity  is  not  the  only  principle 
of  association ;  here  simultaneity  also  occurs.  One  observation  1 
may  make  to  show,  that  what  Mr.  Stewart  promulgates  as  a  dis- 
tinct principle  of  association,  is  only  a  subordinate  modification 
of  the  two  great  laws  I  have  laid  down,  —  I  mean  his  association 
of  objects,  arising  from  accidental  coincidences  in  the  sound  of  the 
words  by  which  they  are  denoted.    Here  the  association  between 

1  [Cannina  JUustrium  Foetarum  Italorum,  t       Contrariety  equivalent  to  Simultaneity,  inas* 
ri  369.    Florentise,  1719]  much  as  contraries,  etc.,  have  common  attri* 

2  [Alex.  Aphrodisiensis  (In  Top.  i.  18) makes      butes.] 


Lect.  XXXI.  METAPHYSICS.  435 

the  objects  or  ideas  is  not  immediate.  One  object  or  idea  signified 
suggests  its  term  signifying.  But  a  complete  or  partial  identity 
in  sound  suggests  another  word,  and  that  word  suggests  the  thing 
or  thoucht  it  si<=rnifies.  The  two  things  or  thoucjhts  are  thus  asso- 
ciated,  only  mediately,  through  the  association  of  their  signs,  and 
the  sevei'al  immediate  associations  are  very  simple  examples  of  the 
general  laws. 

In  the  fifth  place,  thoughts  of  causes  and  eflEects  reciprocally 

suggest    each   other.      Thus   the   falling   snow 

5.  The  law  of  cause       ^^f^^^^^   ^^e    imagination   of  an  inundation;    a 

and  effect.  r-i-ii  i  o      i  i 

shower  ot  hail  a  thought  ot  the  destruction 
of  the  fruit;  the  sight  of  wine  carries  u's  back  to  the  grapes,  or 
the  sight  of  the  grapes  carries  us  forward  to  the  wine ;  and  so 
forth.  But  cause  and  efiect  not  only  naturally  but  necessarily 
suggest  each  other;  they  stand  in  the  closest  affinity,  and,  there- 
fore, whatever  phenomena  are  subsumed  under  this  relation,  as 
indeed  under  all  relations,  are,  consequently,  also  in  affinity. 

I  have  now,  I  think,  gone  through  all  the  circumstances  which 

philosophers  have  constituted  into  separate  laws 
All   these  separate       ^f   Association ;    and   shown   that   they   easily 

laws  thus  resolved  in-  ,  ,  ,  •    ,       .  i        .  i  /•  o  •         i 

,    .  c-     u  resolve  themselves  into  the  two  laws  ot  bimul- 

to   two:  —  Simultane- 
ity and  Affinity:  and       tancity  and  Affinity.     I  now  proceed  to  show 
these  again    are   re-       jqh  that  thcsc  two  laws  themsclves  are  reduci- 

solvable  into  tlie   one  i  i        ,        ,i     x  i  ,    i  •    i      T    ,  .    ,•!  l        ,11     *1, « 

ble   to  that  one   law,   which    1   would  call  the 

grand  law  ot  IJedinte-  .  .    '  .  .  t 

gration.  law  of  Redintegration  or  Totality,  which,  as  I 

alreadv  stated,  I  liave  found  incidentally  ex- 
pressed  bv  St.  Anirustln.'  This  law  may  be  thus  enounceil,  — 
Those  thoughts  su<r<rest  each  other  which  had  iireviouslv  t-onsti- 
tuted  i)arts  of  the  same  entire  or  total  act  of  cognition.  Xow 
to  the  same  entire  or  total  act  belong,  as  integral  or  constituent 
parts,  in  the  first  place,  those  thoughts  ■which  arose  at  the  same 
time,  or  in  immediate  consecution  ;  and  in  the  second,  those  thoughts 
which  are  bound  up  into  one  by  their  mutual  affinity.  Thus,  there- 
fore, the  two  laws  of  Simultaneity  and  Affinity  are  carried  up  into 
imity,  in  the  higher  law  of  Redintegration  or  Totality;  and  by 
this  one  law  the  whole  pha3nomena  of  Association  may  l»e  easily 
explained.'  


1  Cort/fj.tionrj,  X.  19.  — En.  Hodintegration,  see   Reid''s  Works, 'Sote  D**, 

2  For    historical    notices    of   the    law    of      p.  889. —  Ed. 


I 


LECTURE    XXXII. 

THE    REPRODUCTIVE    FACULTY.  —  LAWS    OF    ASSOCIATION. 
SUGGESTION   AND  REMINISCENCE. 

In  our  last  Lecture  we  were  occupied  with  the  phjenomena  of 
Reproduction,  as  the  result  of  the  laws  which 

Kecapitulation.  .  ^ 

govern  the  succession  of  our  mental  train.  These 
laws,  as  they  have  been  called,  of  the  Association  of  our  Thoughts, 
comprehend  equally  the  whole  phaenomena  of  mind,  —  the  Cogni- 
tions, the  Feelings,  the  Desires.  I  enumerated  to  you  tlie  principal 
heads  under  which  philosophers  had  classed  the  circumstances  which 
constitute  between  thoughts  a  bond  of  association, — ,a  principle  of 
mutual  suggestion ;  and  showed  you  that  these  could  all  easily  be 
reduced  to  two  laws,  —  the  law  of  Simultaneity,  and  the  law  of 
Affinity.  By  the  former  of  these,  objects  coexistent  or  immediately 
consequent  in  time  are  associated ;  by  the  latter,  things  which  stand 
in  a  mutual  affinity  to  each  other,  either  objectively  and  in  them- 
selves, or  subjectively,  through  the  modes  under  Avhich  the  mind 
conceives  them,  are  in  like  manner  reciprocally  suggestive.  These 
two  laws,  I  further  showed  you,  might  themselves  be  carried  up 
into  one  supreme  principle  of  Association,  which  I  called  the  law 
of  Redintegration  or  of  Totality ;  and  according  to  which  thoughts 
or  mental  activities,  having  once  formed  parts  of  the  same  total 
thought  or  mental  activity,  tend  ever  after  immediately  to  suggest 
each  other.  Out  of  this  universal  law  every  special  law  of  Associa- 
tion may  easily  be  evolved,  as  they  are  all  only  so  many  modified 
expressions  of  this  common  principle  — so  many  applications  of  it 
to  cases  more  or  less  particular. 

But  this  law  being  established  by  induction 

No  legitimate  pre-       and  generalization,  and  affording  an  explanation 

sumption  against  the       ^f  ^}^g  various  pha?nomena  of  Association,  it  may 

truth      of     the     law         ,  i      i    Tr  •       .  •     i  -       ■, r> 

of  Redintegration,  if       "^  asked,  How  IS  this  laAv  itself  explained  ?     On 
found  inexplicable.  what  principle  of  our   intellectual  nature  is  it 

founded?     To   this    no  answer    can    be   leariti- 
mately  demanded.      It   is  enough  for  the  natural  philosopher  to 


Lect.  XXXII.  METAPHYSICS.  43T 

reduce  the  special  laws  of  the  attraction  of  distant  bodies  to  the  one 
principle  of  gravitation ;  and  his  tlieory  is  not  invalidated,  because 
he  can  give  no  account  of  how  gravitation  is  itself  determined.  In 
all  our  explanations  of  the  pha^nomena  of  mind  and  matter,  we 
must  always  arrive  at  an  ultimate  fact  or  law,  of  which  we  are 
wholly  unable  to  afford  an  ulterior  explanation.  We  are,  therefore, 
entitled  to  decline  attempting  any  illustration  of  the  ground  on 
which  the  supreme  fact  or  law  of  Association  reposes ;  and  if  we 
do  attempt  such  illustration,  and  fail  in  the  endeavor,  no  presump- 
tion is,  therefore,  justly  to  be  raised  against  the  truth  of  the  fact  or 
principle  itself. 

But  an  illustration  of  this  great  law  is  involved  in  the  |)rinciple 

of  the  unity  of  the  mental  energies,  as  the  activ- 

Attempted  iiiusira-       ities  of  the  subject  ouc  and  indivisible,  t<>  wliich 

tioii  of  the  ground  on       J  havc  had   occasion  to  refer.  ^     "The  various 

which   thi8   law   re-       ^^^^  of  mind  must  not  be  viewed  as  single,— 

poses,  from  the  unity  .  n    i     i 

of  the  subject  of  the  ^^  isolated,  manifestations ;  they  all  belong  to 
mental  energies  the  One  activity  of  the  cgo  :  and,  consequently, 

if  our  various  mental  energies  are  only  partial 
modifications  of  the  same  general  activity,  they  must  all  be  associ- 
ated amonsr  themselves.  Every  mental  enerijv,  —  everv  thouirht. 
feeling,  desire  that  is  excited,  excites  at  the  same  time  all  other  pre- 
viously existent  activities,  in  a  certain  degree  ;  it  spreads  its  excita- 
tion over  the  whole  activities  of  the  mind,  as  the  agitation  of  one 
place  of  a  .sheet  of  water  expands  itself,  in  wider  and  wider  circles, 
over  the  whole  surface  of  the  fluid,"  although,  in  proportion  to  its 
eccentricity,  it  is  always  becoming  fainter,  until  it  is  at  last  not  to 
be  perceived.  The  force  of  every  internal  activity  exists  only  in  a 
certain  limited  degree  ;  consequently,  the  excitation  it  determines 
has  only  likewise  a  certain  limited  power  of  expansion,  and  is  con- 
tinually losing  in  vigor  in  proportion  to  its  eccentricity.  Thus  there 
are  formed  jiarticular  centres,  ]»articular  spheres,  of  internal  unity, 
within  which  the  activities  stand  to  each  other  in  a  closer  relation 
of  action  and  reiiction ;  and  this,  in  proj>ortion  as  they  more  or  less 
belong  already  to  a  single  energy,  —  in  jtroportion  as  they  gravitate 
more  or  less  proximately  to  the  same  centre  of  action.  A  plurality, 
a  complement,  of  several  activities  forms,  in  a  stricter  sense,  <>ne 
whole  activity  for  itself;  an  invigoration  of  any  of  its  several  activi- 
ties is,  therefore,  an  invigoration  of  the  part  of  a  whole  activity; 
and  as  a  part  c»nnot  be  active  for  itself  alone,  there,  consequently, 
results  an  invigoration  of  the  whole,  that  is,  of  all  the  other  j>art8 

1  See  atove,  lect.  xxx.  p.  415.  —  Ed.  '^  Cf.  Pope,  Essay  on  Man,  iv.  363.  —  Kd 


438  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXU. 

of  which  it  is  composed.  Tluis  the  supreme  law  of  association, — 
that  activities  excite  each  other  in  proportion  as  they  have  previ- 
ously belonged,  as  parts,  to  one  whole  activity,  —  is  explained  from 
the  still  more  universal  j^rinciple  of  the  unity  of  all  our  mental 
energies  in  general.^ 

"But,  on  the  same  principle,  Ave  can  also  explain  the  two  subal- 
tern  laws   of  Simultaneity  and   Affinity.      The 
The  laws  of  Simui-       ph.'cnomena  of  mind  are  manifested  under  a  two- 

taueitv   and   Afflnitv,         /^  i  i  -,■   •  n  n  i  , 

explicable  on  the  .ame  ^""^'^  Condition  or  form;  for  they  are  only  re- 
priiicipie.  vcalcd,      1°,  As  occurrcnccs  in  time;   and,  2°, 

As  the  energies  or  modifications  of  the  eofo,  as 
their  cause  and  subject.  Time  and  Self  are  thus  the  two  forms  of 
the  internal  world.  By  these  tAvo  forms,  therefore,  every  particular, 
every  limited,  unity  of  operation,  must  be  controlled  ;  —  on  them  it 
must  depend.  And  it  is  jirecisely  these  tAvo  forms  that  lie  at  the 
root  of  the  tAvo  laws  of  Simultaneity  and  Affinity.  Thus  acts  Avhich 
are  exerted  at  the  same  time,  belong,  by  that  very  circumstance,  to 
the  same  particular  unity,  —  to  the  same  definite  sphere  of  mental 
energy;  in  other  words,  constitute  through  their  simultaneity  a 
single  actiAdty.  Thus  energies,  hoAvever  heterogeneous  in  them- 
selves, if  developed  at  once,  belong  to  the  same  activity,  —  consti- 
tute a  particular  unity ;  and  they  Avill  operate  Avith  a  greater  sug. 
gestive  influence  on  each  other,  in  proportion  as  they  are  more 
closely  connected  by  the  bond  of  time.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
affinity  of  mental  acts  or  modifications  Avill  be  determined  by  their 
particular  relations  to  the  ego,  as  their  cause  or  subject.  As  all  the 
activities  of  mind  obtain  a  unity  in  being  all  the  energies  of  the 
same  soul  or  active  principle  in  general,  so  they  are  bound  up  into 
particular  unities,  inasmuch  as  they  belong  to  some  particular  fac- 
ulty-—  resemble  each  other  in  the  common  ground  of  their  mani- 
festation.  Thus  cognitions,  feelings,  and  volitions,  severally  aAvaken 
cognitions,  feelings,  and  volitions ;  for  they  severally  belong  to  the 
same  faculty,  and,  through  that  identity,  are  themselves  constituted 
into  distinct  imities :  or  again,  a  thouijht  of  the  cause  suor<rests  a 
thought  of  the  effect,  a  thought  of  the  mean  suggests  a  thought  of 
the  end,  a  thought  of  the  part  suggests  a  thought  of  the  Avhole ;  for 
cause  and  effect,  end  and  mean,  Avhole  and  parts,  have  subjectively 
an  indissoluble  affinity,  as  they  are  all  so  many  forms  or  organiza- 
tions of  thought.  In  like  manner,  the  notions  of  all  resembling 
objects  suggest  each  other,  for  they  possess  some  common  quality, 
through  which  they  are  in  thought  bound  up  in  a  single  act  of 
thought.      Even  the  notions  of  opposite    and   contrasted   objects 

.1  (>Cf.  Fries,  Anthropologic,  i.  29,  {  8.     Kritile,  i.  §  334 


f 


Lect.  XXXII.  METAPHYSICS.  439 

mutually  excite  each  other  upon  the  same  principle ;  for  these  are 
logically  associated,  inasmuch  as,  by  the  laws  of  thought,  the  notion 
of  one  opposite  necessarily  involves  the  notions  of  the  other;  and 
it  is  also  a  psychological  law,  that  contrasted  objects  relieve  each 
other.  Ojyposita,  juxta  posita,  se  invice7n  coUustrant.  When  the 
operations  of  different  faculties  are  mutually  suggestive,  they  are, 
likewise,  internally  connected  by  the  nature  of  their  action ;  for 
they  are  either  conversant  with  the  same  object,  and  have  thus  been 
originally  determined  by  the  same  affection  from  without,  or  they 
have  originally  been  associated  through  some  form  of  the  mind 
itself;  thus  moral  cognitions,  moral  feelings,  and  moral  volitions, 
may  suggest  each  other,  thi'ough  the  common  bond  of  morality  ; 
the  moral  principle  in  this  case  muting  the  operations  of  the  three 
fundamental  jiowers  into  one  general  activity."^  , . 


Before  leaving  this  subject,  I  must  call  your  attention  to  a  cir- 
cumstance which  I  formerly  incidentally  noticed.^ 
Thoughts,  apparent-       It  sometimes   happens    that   thoughts  seem  to 
/y  unassociated.  ^e..u>       f^|,^^^,  ^.^^j^  ^^j^^.^.  immediately,  between  which 

to    follow  each  other         ...  .,,  ,  ii/»  •• 

immediately.  ^^  ^^  imi)Ossible  to  detect  any  bond  or  association. 

If  this  anomaly  be  insoluble,  the  whole  theory  of 
association  is  overthrown.  IMiilosophers  have  accordingly  set  them- 
selves to  account  for  this  phjenomenon.  To  deny  the  fact  of  the 
pluenomenon  is  impossible ;  it  must,  therefore,  be  exi)lained  on  the 
hypothesis  of  association.  Xow,  in  their  attempts  at  such  an  expla- 
nation, all  philosophers  agree  in  regard  to  tlie  first  step  of  the 
solution,  but  they  differ  in  regard  to  the  second.  They  agree  in 
this,  —  that,  admitting  the  apparent,  the  phtenomenal,  immediacy 
of  the  consecution  of  the  two  unassociated  thoughts,  they  deny  its 
reality.  Tlu-y  all  affirm,  that  there  have  actually  intervened  one  or 
more  thoughts,  through  the  mediation-  of  which,  the  suggestion  in 
question  has  been  effected,  and  on  the  assumption  of  which  inter- 
mediation the  theory  of  association  remains  intact.  For  example, 
let  us  suppose  that  A  and  C  are  thoughts,  not  on  any  law  of  associ- 
ation suggestive  of  eacli  other,  and  that  X  and  C  appear  to  our  con- 
sciousness as  following  each  other  immediately.  In  this  case,  I  say, 
philosophers  agree  in  su]>posing,  that  a  thought  B,  associated  with 
A  and  with  C,  and  which  consequently  could  be  awakened  by  .\, 
and  could  awaken  C,  has  intervened.  So  far  they  arc  at  one.  But 
now  comes  their  separation.  It  is  asked,  how  can  a  tliouglit  be 
supposed  to  intervene,  of  which   consciousness  gives  us  no   indi- 

1  H.  Schmid,  VwHfA  finrr  M'M/>/..  p,  242-4:      tioiis  —  Ed.]      Cf.   Kcn/'i   H'ori.',   Notes    D*« 
[translated  with  occasioual  brief  iuterpoln-      and  D***.  —  Ed. 

2  See  above,  lect.  xviii.  p  244  —  Ed. 


440  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXH 

cation  ?    In  reply  to  this,  two  answers  have  been  made.    By  one  set 

of  philosophers,  among  whom  I  may  particularly 
womo  eso    xpi        specify  Mr.  Stewart,  it  is  said,  that  the  immedi- 

catiou      adopted     by  ^  *'  '  ' 

philosophers.  ate  thought  B,  having  been  awakened  by  A,  did 

rise  into  consciousness,  suggested  C,  and  was 
instantly  forgotten.  This  solution  Ls  apparently  that  exclusively 
known  in  Britain.  Other  philosophers,  following  the  indication  of 
Leibnitz,  by  whom  the  theory  of  obscure  or  latent  activities  was 
first  explicitly  promulgated,  maintain  that  the  intermediate  thought 
never  did  rise  into  consciousness.  They  hold  that  A  excited  B,  but 
that  the  excitement  Avas  not  strong  enough  to  rouse  B  from  it& 
state  of  latency,  though  strong  enoiigh  to  enable  it  obscurely  to 
excite  C,  whose  latency  was  less,  and  to  aiford  it  vivacity  sufficient 
to  rise  into  consciousness. 

Of  these  opinions,  I  have  no  hesitation  in  declaring  for  the 
latter.     I  formerly  showed  you  an   analysis  of 

'o  be  explained  on  some  of  the  most  jtalpable  and  familiar  phae^ 
the  principle  of  la-       j^Q^iena  of  mind,  which  made  the  supposition  of 

tent  modifications    of  ,  .  •*  ^. 

jaijj(j,  mental  modifications  latent,  but  not  inert,  one 

of  absolute  necessity.  In  particular,  I  proved 
this  in  regard  to  the  phjenomena  of  Perception.^  But  the  fact, 
of  such  latencies  being  established  in  one  faculty,  they  afibrd  an 
easy  and  philosophical  explanation  of  the  phaenomena  in  all.  In 
the  present  instance,  if  we  admit,  as  admit  we  must,  that  activities, 
can  endure,  and  consequently  can  operate,  out  of  consciousness,  th& 
question  is  at  once  solved.  On  this  doctrine,  the  whole  theory 
of  association  obtains  an  easy  and  natural  completion  ;  as  no  defi- 
nite line  can  be  drawn  between  clear  and  obscure  activities,  which 
melt  insensibly  into  each  ;  and  both,  being  of  the  same  nature,  must 
be  supposed  to  operate  undeV  the  same  laws.  In  illustration  of  the 
mediatory  agency  of  latent  thoughts  in  the  process  of  sugges- 
tion, I  formerly  alluded  to  an  analogous  phtenomenon  under  the 
laws  of  physical  motion,  which  I  may  again  call  to  your  remem- 
brance. If  a  series  of  elastic  balls,  say  of  ivory,  are  placed  in  a 
straight  line,  and  in  mutual  contact,  and  if  the  first  be  sharply 
struck,  what  happens?  The  intermediate  balls  remain  at  rest;  the 
last  alone  is  moved. 

The  other  doctrine,  which  proceeds  upon  the  hypothesis  that  we 

can  be  conscious  of  a  thought  and  that  thought 

coun  er  so  u-       ^^  instantly  forsrotten,  has  everything  against  it» 

tion  untenable.  ...  o     o  > 

and  nothing  in  its  favor.     In  the  first  place,  it 
does  not,  like  the  counter  hypothesis  of  latent  agencies,  only  apply 

1  See  above,  lect.  xviii.  p.  242.  —  Ed 


Lect.  XXXII.  METAPHYSICS.  441 

a  principle  which  is  ah-eady  proved  to  exist;  it  on  the  contrary  lays 
its  foundation  in  a  fact  which  is  not  shown  to  be  real.  But  in  the 
second  place,  this  fact  is  not  only  not  shown  to  be  real :  it  is  im- 
probable,—  nay  impossible;  for  it  contradicts  the  whole  analogy 
of  the  intellectual  jdia^nomena.  Tlie  memory  or  retention  of  a 
thought  is  in  proportion  to  its  vivacity  in  consciousness ;  but  that 
all  trace  of  its  existence  so  completely  perished  with  its  presence, 
that  reproduction  became  impossible,  even  the  instant  after,  —  this 
assumption  violates  every  probability,  in  gratuitously  disallowing 
the  established  law  of  the  proportion  between  consciousness  and 
memory.  But  on  this  subject,  having  formerly  spoken,  it  is  needless 
now  again  to  dwell.  ^ 

So  much  for  the  laws  of  association,  —  the  laws  to  which  the 
faculty  of  Reproduction  is  subjected. 

This  faculty,  I  formerly  mentioned,  might  be  considered  as  oper- 
ating, either  spontaneously,  without  any  interference  of  the  will,, 
or  as  modified  in  its  action  by  the  intervention  of  volition.  In  the 
one  case,  as  in  tlie  other,  the  Reproductive  Faculty  acts  in  sub- 
servience to  its  own  laws.  In  the  former  case,  one  thought  is  al- 
lowed to  suggest  another  according  to  the  gieater  gener^il  connec- 
tion subsisting  between  them ;  in  the  latter,  the 

The    Reproductive  /»        ,.   •  i 

Faculty  divided  info  '"^ct  of  volitiou,  by  concentrating  attention  upon 
two:  —  Spontaneous  a  certain  determinate  class  of  associating  cir- 
Suggestion  and  Ueni-       cumstances,  bcstows  Oil  these  circumstances  an 

iniscence.  t  •         •<  i  .li 

extraordinary  vivacity,  and,  consequently,  ena- 
bles them  to  obtain  the  preponderance,  and  exclusively  to  deter- 
mine the  succession  of  the  intellectual  train.  The  former  of  these 
cases,  where  the  Reproductive  Faculty  is  left  wholly  to  itself,  may 
not  im])roperly  be  called  Spontaneous  Suggestion,  or  Suggestion 
simply;  the  latter  ought  to  obtain  the  name  of  Reminiscence  or 
Recollection,  (in  Greek  dvd/AKr/o-is).  The  employment  of  these  terms 
in  these  significations,  corresponds  with  the  meaning  they  obtain 
in  common  usage.  Philosophers  have  not,  ]i<)\vi.'\  or,  always  so 
applied  them.  But  as  I  have  not  entered  on  a  criticism  of  the 
analyses  attempted  by  philosoi)hers  of  the  faculties,  so  I  shall  say 
nothing  in  illustration  of  their  perversion  of  tlie  terms  by  which 
they  have  denoted  them. 

Recollection  or  Reminiscence  supposes  two  things.     "First,  it  is- 

necessary  that  the  mind  recognize  the  identity 
What  Reminiscence       ^^  ^^^.^  rei>resentations,  an.l  then  it  is  necessary 

that  the  inin<l  be  conscious  of  sometliing  difter- 
ent  from  the  first  impression,  in  conse<juence  of  which  it  afiirms  to 

1  See  above,  lect .  xviii.  p.  245.  —  Kd. 
50 


442  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXU 

itself  that  it  had  formerly  experienced  this  modification.  It  is  pass- 
ing marvellous,  this  conviction  that  we  have  of  the  identity  of  two 
representations;  for  they  are  only  similar,  not  the  same.  Were 
they  the  same,  it  would  be  impossible  to  discriminate  the  thought 
reproduced  from  the  thought  originally  exi)erienced."  ^  This  cir- 
cumstance justly  excited  the  admiration  of  St. 
St.  Augustin's  an-       Augustin,  and  he  asks  how,  if  we  had  actually 

alysis  of  this  power, —  •      n  > 

^gfjjjig^  forgotten  a  thmg,  we  could  so  categorically  af- 

firm, —  it  is  not  that,  when  some  one  named  to 
us  another;  or,  it  is  that,  when  it  is  itself  presented.  The  question 
was  worthy  of  his  subtlety,  and  the  answer  does  honor  to  his  pene- 
tration. His  principle  is,  that  we  cannot  seek  in  our  own  memory 
for  that  of  which  we  have  no  sort  of  recollection,  "  Quod  omnino 
obliti  fueramus  amissum  quaerere  non  possumus."  -  We  do  not  seek 
what  has  been  our  first  reflective  thought  in  infancy,  the  first  rea- 
soning we  have  performed,  the  first  free  act  which  raised  us  above 
the  rank  of  automata.  We  are  conscious  that  the  attempt  would 
be  fruitless ;  and  even  if  modifications  thus  lost  should  chance  to 
recur  to  our  mind,  we  should  not  be  able  to  say  with  truth  that  we 
had  recoUected  them,  for  we  should  have  no  criterion  by  which  to 
recognize  them,  "  Cujus  nisi  memor  essem,  si  ofteretur  mihi,  non 
invenirem,  quia  non  agnoscerem."  And  what  is  the  consequence 
he  deduces?     It  is  worthy  of  your  attention. 

From  the  moment,  then,  that  we  seek  aught  in  our  memory,  we 

declare,  by  that  very  act,  that  we  have  not  alto- 

its  condition, -the  j^^^.  fo^.  ^^^en   it;  we  still  hold  of  it,  as  it 

law  of  totality.  *  *  '         .  ,  •   ,  i     ,  i 

were,  a  part,  and  by  this  part,  which  we  hold, 
we  seek  that  which  we  do  not  hold,  "  Ergo  non  totum  exciderat ; 
sed  ex  parte  qua  tenebatur,  alia  qua;rebatur."  And  what  is  the 
secret  motive  which  determines  us  to  this  research  ?  It  is  that  our 
memoi-y  feels,  that  it  does  not  see  together  all  that  it  was  accus- 
tomed to  see  together,  "  Quia  sentiebat  se  memoria  non  simul  vol- 
vere  quoe  simul  solebat."  It  feels  Avith  regret  that  it  still  only  dis- 
covers a  part  of  itself,  and  hence  its  disquietude  to  seek  out  what 
is  missing,  in  order  to  reannex  it  to  the  whole  ;  like  to  those  reptiles, 
if  the  comparison  may  be  permitted,  whose  members  when  cut 
asunder  seek  again  to  reunite,  "  Et  quasi  detruncata  consuetudine 
C'laudicans,  reddi  quod  deerat  flagitabat."  But  when  this  detached 
portion  of  our  memory  at  length  presents  itself,  —  the  name,  for 
example,  of  a  person,  which  had  escaped  us ;  how  shall  we  proceed 

1  Ancillon,  Essais  Philofophiques,  ii.  pp.  141, 142.  —  Ed.     Cf.  Andre,  Traite  de  I' Homme,  i,  27? 
^  Confessions,  lib.  x.  caps.  18,  19. 


I 


Lect.  XXXII.  METAPHYSICS.  443 

to  reannex  it  to  the  otlier  ?  We  have  only  to  allow  nature  to  do 
her  work.  For  if  the  name,  being  pronounced,  goes  of  itself  to 
reunite  itself  to  the  thought  of  the  person,  and  to  place  itself,  so  to 
speak,  upon  his  face,  as  upon  its  ordinary  seat,  we  will  say,  without 
hesitation, — there  it  is.  And  if,  on  the  contrary,  it  obstinately  refuses 
to  go  there  to  place  itself,  in  order  to  rejoin  the  thought  to  which 
we  had  else  attached  it,  we  will  say  peremptorily  and  at  once,  — 
no,  it  does  not  suit,  "Non  connectitur,  quia  non  simul  cum  illo  cog- 
itari  consuevit."  But  when  it  suits,  where  do  we  discover  this 
luminous  accordance  which  consummates  our  research?  And  where 
can  we  discover  it,  except  in  our  memory  itself,  —  in  some  back 
•chamber  I  mean,  of  that  labyrinth  where  what  we  considered  as 
lost  had  only  gone  astray,  "  Et  unde  adest,  nisi  ex  ipsa  memoria.'' 
And  the  proof  of  this  is  manifest.  When  the  name  presents  itself 
to  our  mind,  it  appears  neither  novel  nor  strange,  but  old  and  famil- 
iar, like  an  ancient  property  of  Avhich  we  have  recovered  the  title- 
deeds,  "  Non  enim  quasi  novum  credimus,  sed  recordantes  a2)]>ro- 
bamus." 

Such  is  the  doctrine  of  one  of  the  profoundest  thinkers  of  an- 
tiquity, and  whose  philosophical  opinions,  were  they  collected,  ar- 
ranged, and  illustrated,  would  raise  him  to  as  high  a  rank  among 
metaphysicians,  as  he  already  holds  among  theologians. 

"Among  psychologists,  those  who  have  written  on  Memory  and 
Reproduction  with  the  greatest  detail  and  pre- 

Defect  in  the  analysis       cision,  have  Still  failed  in  giving  more  than   a 
of  Memory  and  Repro-       meagre  outUnc  of  tlicsc  Operations.     They  have 

u   ion     y   p>)    u         taken  account  only  of  the  notions  which  sucfizest 

ogist*, —  in    recogniz-  _         •'         _  ^^^ 

ing  only  a  consecutive  each  Other,  with  a  distinct  and  palpable  noto- 
■order  of  association.         rictv.     They  have  viewcd  the  associations  only 

in  the  order  in  whith  language  is  comjietent  to 
exjiress  them ;  and  as  language,  which  renders  them  still  more  )»al- 
palile  and  distinct,  can  only  express  thcni  in  a  consecutive  order, — 
can  only  ex[»ress  them  one  after  another,  they  have  liecn  led  to 
suppose  that  thoughts  only  aw.ikcn  in  succession.  Thus,  a  series 
of  ideas  mutually  associated,  resembles,  on  the  doctrine  of  pliiloso- 
phers,  a  chain  in  which  every  link  draws  up  that  which  follows; 
and  it  is  by  means  of  these  links  that  intelligence  labors  thiough, 
m  the  act  of  reminiscence,  to  the  end  which  it  ))roposes  to  attain.' 

"  There  are  some,  indeed,  among  them,  who  are  ready  to  acknowl- 
<?dge,  that  every  actual  circumstnnce  is  associated  to  several  funda- 
mental notions,  and,  consequently,  to  several  chains,  between  which 

1  Cf  Rrif/'s  Wnrkt.ft  W'>.  note  t  —  Ed. 


444 


METAPHYSICS. 


Lect.  XXXIL 


Element  in  the  plia- 
nomena,  which  the 
common  theory  fails 
to  explain, — the  move- 
raeut  of  thought  from 
one  order  of  subjects 
to  another. 


the  mind  may  choose ;  they  admit  even  that  every  link  is  attached 
to  several  others,  so  that  the  whole  forms  a  kind  of  trellis,  —  a  kind 
of  net-work,  which  the  mind  may  traverse  in  every  direction,  but 
still  always  in  a  single  direction  at  once,  —  alM'ays  in  a  succession 
similar  to  that  of  speech.  This  manner  of  explaining  reminiscence 
is  founded  solely  on  this,  —  tliat,  content  to  have  observed  all  that 
is  distinctly  manifest  in  the  phjenomenon,  they  have  paid  no  attention 
to  the  under  play  of  the  latescent  activities,  —  paid  no  attention  to 
all  that  custom  conceals,  and  conceals  the  more  effectually  in  pro- 
portion as  it  is  more  completely  blended  with  the  natural  agencies, 
of  mind. 

"Thus  their  theory,  true  in  itself,  and  departing  from  a  well-estab- 
lished jirinciple,  —  the  Association  of  Ideas,  ex- 
plains in  a  satisfactory  manner  a  portion  of  the 
phienoraena  of  Reminiscence ;  but  it  is  incom- 
plete, for  it  is  unable  to  account  for  the  prompt^ 
easy,  and  varied  o])eration  of  this  faculty,  or  for 
all  the  marvels  it  performs.  On  the  doctrine  of 
the  philosophers,  we  can  explain  how  a  scholar 
repeats,  without  hesitation,  a  lesson  he  has 
learned,  for  all  the  words  are  associated  in  his  mind  according  to 
the  order  in  which  he  has  studied  them ;  how  he  demonstrates  a 
geometrical  theorem,  the  parts  of  which  are  connected  together  in 
the  same  manner ;  these  and  similar  reminiscences  of  simple  succes- 
sions present  no  difficulties  which  the  common  doctrine  cannot 
resolve.  But  it  is  impossible,  on  this  doctrine,  to  explain  the  rapid 
and  certain  movement  of  thought,  which,  with  a  marvellous  facility, 
passes  from  one  order  of  subjects  to  another,  only  to  return  again  to 
the  first ;  which  advances,  retrogades,  deviates,  and  reverts,  sometimes 
marking  all  the  points  on  its  route,  again  clearing,  as  if  in  play^ 
immense  intervals ;  which  runs  oA^er  now  in  a  manifest  order,  now 
in  a  seeming  irregularity,  all  the  notions  relative  to  an  object,  often 
relative  to  several,  between  which  no  connection  could  be  suspected ;, 
and  this  without  hesitation,  without  uncertainty,  without  error,  as 
the  hand  of  a  skilful  musician  expatiates  over  the  keys  of  the  most 
complex  organ.  All  this  is  inexplicable  on  the  meagre  and  con- 
tracted theory  on  which  the  pha^nomena  of  reproduction  have  been 
thought  explained."  ^ 

"To  form  a  correct  notion  of  the  phaenomena  of  Reminiscence,  it 
is  requisite,  that  we  consider  under  what  conditions  it  is  determined 
to  exertion.     In  the  first  place,  it  is  to  be  noted  that,  at  every  crisis 


1  Cardaillac,  [Etudes  Etcmentaires  tie  PhihaophU,  t.  ii.  c  v  p  124  et  seq.  —  Ed  ] 


Lect.  XXXII. 


METAPHYSICS. 


445 


Conditions  under 
■which  Kcminiscence 
if;  dt'tfrmined  to  exer- 
tion. 

1.  Momentary  cir- 
cumstances tlie  causes 
of  our  mental  activity. 

2.  The  determin- 
ing circunistiince  must 
constitute  a  want. 


of  our  existence,  momentary  circumstances  are  the  causes  wliich 

awaken  our  activity,  and  set  our  recollection  at 
Avork  to  supply  the  necessaries  of  thought.  ^     Ik 
the  second  place,  it  is  as  constituting  a  want  (and 
by  wcmt  I  mean  the  result  either  of  an  act  of  de- 
sire or  of  volition),  that  the  determining  circutn- 
stance  tends  principally  to  awaken  the  thoughts 
with  which  it  is  associated.    .This  being  the  case, 
we  should  expect  that  each  circumstance  which 
constitutes  a  want  should  suggest,  likewise,  the 
notion  of  an  object,  or  objects,  proper  to    sat- 
isfy it;    and  this  is  what  actually  happens.      It  is,  however,  fur- 
ther to  be  observed,  that  it  is  not  enough  that  the  want  suggests 
the  idea  of  the  object ;  for  if  that  idea  were  alone,  it  would  remain 
without  effect,  since  it  could  not  guide  me  in  the  procedure  I  should 
follow.     It  is  necessary,  at  the  same  time,  that  to  the  idea  of  this 
object  there  should  be  associated  the  notion  of  the  relation  of  this 
object  to  the  want,  of  the  place  where  I  may  find  it,  of  the  means 
by  which  I  may  procure  it,  and  turn  it  to  account,  etc.    For  instance, 
I  wish  to  make  a  quotation  : — This  want  awakens  in  me  the  idea 
of  the  author  in  whom  the  ])assage  is  to  be  found,  which  I  am  desir- 
ous of  citing;  but  this  idea  would  be  fruitless,  unless  there  were 
conjoined,  at  the  same  time,  the  representation  of  the  volume,  of 
the  place  Avherc  I  may  obtain  it,  of  the  means  I  must  employ,  etc. 
Hence  I  infer,  in  the  first  place,  that  a  want  does  not  awaken  an 
idea  of  its  object  alone,  but  that  it  awakens  it 
acconi)ianied  with  a  number,  more  or  less  con- 
siderable, of  accessory  notions,  which  form,  as  it 
were,  its  train  or  attendance.     This  train  may 
vary  according  to  the  nature  of  the  want  which 
suggests  the  notion  of  an  object;  but  the  train 
can  never  i'all  wholly  off',  and  it  becomes  more 
indissolubly  attached  to  the  object,  in  proportion 
as  it  has  been  more  frequently  called  up  in  attendance. 

"I  infer,  in  the  second  place,  that  this  accompaniment  of  acccs.sory 
notions,  simultaneously  suggested  with  the  prin- 
I)al  idea,  is  far  from  being  as  vivitlly  and  <lis- 
tinctly  represented  in  consciousness  as  that  idea 
itself;  and  when  these  accessories  have  once 
been  completely  blended  with  the  hal)its  of 
the  mind,  and  its  reproductive  agency,  they  at  length  finally  dis- 

1  [Slope  jnm  Bpatio  ohriitnni 
Levll  exolelmn  mcninrinm  rcnovnt  nota. 

Senoca,  CEJipus,  v.  820.] 


Conditions  under 
which  a  want  is  effec- 
tive to  determine  rem- 
iniscence. 

1.  Awakens  tlie  idea 
of  its  object  along  with 
certain  accessory  no- 
tions. 


2.  These  accessory 
notions  less  vividly 
represented  in  con- 
pciousnesa  than  the 
idea  itself. 


446  METAPHYSICS  Lect.  XXXII. 

appear,  becoming  fused,  as  it  were,  in  the  consciousness  of  the 
idea  to  which  they  are  attached.  Experience  proves  this  double 
effect  of  the  habits  of  reminiscence.  If  we  obserAe  our  opera- 
tions relative  to  the  gratification  of  a  want,  we  shall  perceive  that 
we  are  far  from  having  a  clear  consciousness  of  the  accessory 
notions ;  the  consciousness  of  them  is,  as  it  were,  obscured,  and  yet 
we  cannot  doubt  that  they  are  j^resent  to  the  mind,  for  it  is  they 
that  direct  our  procedure  in  all  its  details. 

"We  must,  therefore,  I  think,  admit  that  the  thought  of  an  object 
immediately  suggested  by  a  desire,  is  always  accompanied  by  an 
escort  more  or  less  numerous  of  accessory  thoughts,  equally  present 

to  the  mind,   though,  in  general,  unknown  in 

The   accessory   no-       tlicmselves  to  consciousness  ;  that  these  acces- 

tions,  the  more  mflu-       sories  are  not  without  their  influence  in  guiding 

ential  on  our  conduct,  ,,  .  t    •       -i  i         ^  •       •      ^ 

as  they  are  further  ^"^  Operations  elicited  by  the  principal  notion ; 
withdrawn  from  con-  and,  it  may  even  be  added,  that  they  are  so 
Bciousness.  much  the  morc  calculated  to  exert  an  effect  ia 

the  conduct  of  our  procedure,  in  proportion  as, 
having  become  more  part  and  parcel  of  our  habits  of  reproduction, 
the  influences  they  exert  are  further  Avithdrawn,  in  ordinary,  from 

the  ken  of  consciousness."  ^  The  same  thing 
Illustrated   by   the  ^^  illustrated  bv  what  happens  to  us  in  the 

case  of  reading.  *'  .  A   •    • 

case  of  reading.  Originally  each  word,  each 
letter,  Avas  a  separate  object  of  consciousness.  At  length,  the 
knowledge  of  letters  and  Avords  and  lines  being,  as  it  were,  fused 
into  our  habits,  we  no  longer  haA^e  any  distinct  consciousness  of 
them,  as  scAcrally  concurring  to  the  result,  of  which  alone  we  are 
conscious.  But  that  each  Avord  and  letter  has  its  effect,  —  an  effect 
Avhich  can  at  any  moment  become  an  object  of  consciousness,  is 
shown  by  the  folloAving  experiment.  If  we  look  oA^er  a  book  for 
the  occurrence  of  a  particular  name  or  word,  we  glance  our  eye 
over  a  page  from  top  to  bottom,  and  ascertain,  almost  in  a  moment, 
that  it  is  or  is  not  to  be  found  therein.  Here  the  mind  is  hardly 
conscious  of  a  single  Avord,  but  that  of  Avhich  it  is  in  quest ;  but  yet 
it  is  evident,  that  each  other  Avord  and  letter  must  have  produced 
an  obscure  effect,  and  Avhich  effect  the  mind  Avas  ready  to  discrim- 
inate and  strengthen,  so  as  to  call  it  into  clear  consciousness,  when- 
ever the  effect  was  found  to  be  that  Avhich  the  letters  of  the  word 
sought  for  could  determine.  But,  if  the  mind  be  not  unaffected 
by  the  multitude  of  letters  and  words  Avhich  it  surveys,  if  it  be 
able  to  ascertain  whether  the  combination  of  letters  constituting  the 

1  Cardaillac,  [Etudes  Element,  de  Pliilos.  t.  ii.  C.  v.  p.  128  et  jej.  — Ed.] 


Lect.  XXXII.  METAPHYSICS.  447 

word  it  seeks,  be  or  be  not  actually  among  them,  and  all  this  with- 
out any  distinct  consciousness  of  all  it  tries  and  finds  defective;  — 
why  may  we  not  suppose,  —  why  are  we  not  bound  to  suppose,  that 
the  mind  may,  in  like  manner,  overlook  its  book  of  memory,  and 
search  anions:  its  mas^azines  of  latescent  cocrnitions  for  the  notions 
of  which  it  is  in  want,  awakening  these  into  consciousness,  and 
allowing  the  others  to  remain  in  their  obscurity  ? 

"  A  more  attentive   consideration  of  the  subject  will  show,  that 

we  have  not  yet  divined  the  faculty  of  Rcmifiis- 

(irouiids  for  infer-       ceucc  iu  its  wliolc  extent.     Let  us  make  a  single 

rin-  that  we  have  not       reflection.      Continually  struck  by  relations  of 

yet  compassed  the  fac-  i  •      i  •  n  -i     i    i  i       /» 

u    „f  Tj„r„r.ic^n„-.„       every  kmd,  contniuallv  assailed  by  a  crowd  of 

ulty  of  Reminiscence  J  '  .'  J 

iu  its  whole  extent.  perceptions  and  sensations  of  every  variety,  and, 

at  the  same  time,  occupied  with  a  complement 
of  thoughts;  we  experience  at  once,  and  we  are  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctly conscious  of,  a  considerable  number  of  wants,  —  wants  some- 
times real,  sometimes  factitious  or  imaginary,  —  phaenomena,  how- 
ever, all  stamped  with  the  same  characters,  and  all  stimulating  us 
to  act  with  more  or  less  of  energy.  And  as  we  choose  among  the 
different  wants  which  we  would  satisfy,  as  well  as  among  the  dif- 
ferent means  of  satisfying  that  want  which  we  determine  to  prefer; 
and  as  the  motives  of  this  preference  are  taken  either  from  among 
the  principal  ideas  relative  to  each  of  these  several  wants,  or  from 
among  the  accessory  ideas  which  habit  has  established  into  their 
necessary  escorts;  —  in  all  these  cases  it  is  requisite,  that  all  the 
circumstances  should  at  once,  and  from  the  moment  they  have  taken 
the  character  of  Avants,  produce  an  effect,  correspondent  to  that 
which,  we  have  seen,  is  caused  by  each  in  particular.  Ilence  we 
are  compelled  to  conclude,  that  the  complement  of  the  circumstances 
by  which  we  are  thus  affected,  has  the  effect  of  ivudering  always 
present  to  us,  and,  consequently,  of  j)lacing  at  our  disposal,  an  im- 
mense nundx'r  of  thoughts;  some  of  which  certainly  are  distinctly 
recognized,  being  accomi)anied  by  a  vivid  consciousness,  but  the 
greater  number  of  whidi,  altliough  remaining  latent,  nie  not  the 
less  eftective  in  continually  exercising  their  ])eculiar  influence  on 
our  modes  of  judging  and  acting.  ^ 

"We  mii;ht  say,  that  each  of  these  momentary  circumstances  is 
a  kind  of  ctccl  tie  shock  M'hich  is  communicated  to  a  certain  |H.iiion, 
—  to  a  certain  limited  sphere,  of  intelligence;  and  the  sum  of  all 
these  circumstances  is  equal  to  so  many  shocks  which,  given  at  once 


1  [Cf  Wolf,  Pfydwto^ia  Rntionalis,  §§  96,  97.       Sfttaili,  partic.  78,  pp.  155.  lOG  (Hoteuce,  lo&6]| 
Mayuettus  UayiietiuB,   In  Anst.  Dc   Scnsu  tt      and  Simon  Simoniue,  raid.  p.  257.] 


448  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXa 

at  so  many  different  points,  produce  a  general  agitation.  We  may 
form  some  rude  conception  of  this  phajnomenon  by  an  analogy. 
We  may  compare  it,  in  the  former  case,  to  those  concentric  circles 
which  are  presented  to  our  observation  on  a  smooth  sheet  of  water, 
when  its  surface  is  agitated  by  throwing  in  a  pebble ;  and,  in  the 
latter  case,  to  the  same  surface  when  agitated  by  a  number  of  peb- 
bles thrown  simultaneously  at  different  jjoints. 

"  To  obtain  a  clearer  notion  of  this  phaenomenon,  I  may  add  some 

observations   on  the   relation  of  our   thoughts 

This  further  shown       ^^         thcmselvcs,  and  with  the   determining 

from  the  relations  of  ^  ° 

our  thoughts  among       circumstanccs  of  the  moment. 

themselves,  and  with  "  1°,  Among  the  thoughts,  notions,  or  ideas 

the  determining  cir-       ^vhich  belong  to  the  different  groups,  attached 

cumstances  of  the  mo-         ,       ,.  .       .       ,  ,    ,.  .        ,,  , 

to  tlie  prmcipal  representations  simultaneously 
awakened,  there  are  some  reciprocally  connected 
l)y  relations  proper  to  themselves ;  so  that,  in  this  whole  comple- 
ment of  coexistent  activities,  these  tend  to  excite  each  other  to 
higher  vigor,  and,  consequently,  to  obtain  for  themselves  a  kind  of 
preeminence  in  the  group  or  particular  circle  of  activity  to  which 
they  belong. 

"  2°,  There  are  thoughts  associated,  whether  as  principals  or 
accessories,  to  a  greater  number  of  determining  circumstances,  or 
to  circumstances  which  recur  more  frequently.  Hence  they  present 
themselves  oftener  than  the  others,  they  enter  more  completely  into 
our  habits,  and  take,  in  a  more  absolute  manner,  the  character  of 
customary  or  habitual  notions.  It  hence  results,  that  they  are  less 
obtrusive,  though  more  energetic,  in  their  influence,  enacting,  as 
they  do,  a  principal  part  in  almost  all  our  deliberations;  and  exer- 
cising a  stronger  influence  on  our  determinations. 

"  3",  Among  this  great  crowd  of  thoughts,  simultaneously  excited, 
those  which  are  connected  with  circumstances  which  more  vividly 
affect  us,  assume  not  only  the  ascendant  over  others  of  the  same 
description  with  themselves,  but  likewise  predominate  over  all  those 
which  are  dependent  on  circumstances  of  a  feebler  determining 
influence. 

"  From  these  three  considerations  we  ought,  therefore,  to  infer, 
that  the  thoughts  connected  with  circumstances  on  which  our 
attention  is  more  specially  concentrated,  are  those  which  prevail 
over  the  others ;  for  the  effect  of  attention  is  to  render  dominant 
and  exclusive  the  object  on  which  it  is  directed,  and  during  the 
moment  of  attention,  it  is  the  circumstance  to  which  we  attend 
that  necessarily  obtains  the  ascendant. 

"  Thus  if  we  appreciate  correctly  the  phaenomena  of  Reproduc- 


Lect.  XXXU.  metaphysics.  449 

tion  or  Reminiscence,  we  shall  recognize,  as  an  incontestable  fact, 

that  our  thoughts  suggest  each  other,  not  one  by 

General  conclusions.       one  succcssively,  as  the  Order  to  which  language 

Thoughts     awakened       ig  astricted  might  lead  US  to  infer;  but  that  the 

not    only    in    succes-  .  i  i  .    , 

sion    but  simuitane-       Complement  01  circumstanccs  under  which  we  at 
ousiy.  every  moment   exist,  awakens  simultaneously  a 

great  number  of  thoughts ;  these  it  calls  into  the 
presence  of  the  mind,  either  to  place  them  at  our  disposal,  if  we 
find  it  requisite  to  employ  them,  or  to  make  them  cooperate  in  'our 
deliberations  by  giving  them,  according  to  their  nature  and  our 
habits,  an  influence,  more  or  less  active,  on  our  judgments  and  con- 
sequent acts. 

"  It  is  also  to  be  observed,  that  in  this  great  crowd  of  thoughts 

always  present  to  the  mind,  there  is  only  a  small 
Of  these  some  only       number  of  wliich  wc   are   distinctly  conscious : 

become  objects  of  clear  ,     ,  .         ,  .  ,,  ,  i  .    .        t 

consciousness  ^"^  ^"'^^  ^^  ^'^'^  Small  number  we  ought  to  dis- 

tinguish those  which,  being  clothed  in  language, 
oral  or  mental,  become  the  objects  of  a  more  fixed  attention ;  those 
which  hold  a  closer  relation  to  circumstances  more  impressive  than 
others ;  or  which  receive  a  predominant  character  by  the  more  vig- 
orous attention  we  bestow  on  them.  As  to  the  others,  although 
not  the  objects  of  clear  consciousness,  they  are  nevertheless  present 
to  the  mind,  there  to  perform  a  very  important  part  as  motive 
principles  of  determination  ;  and  the  influence  which  they  exert  in 
this  capacity  is  even  the  more  powerful  in  proportion  as  it  is  lesa 
apparent,  being  more  disguised  by  habit."  ^ 

1  Cardaillac,  [Etudes  Element,  de  PMos.,  t.  ii.  C  v.  p.  134  et  seq.  —  ED.\ 

57 


LECTURE     XXXIII. 

THE  REPKE  SENT  ATI  VE  FACULTY  —  IMAGINATION. 

Ik  my  last  Lecture,  I  concluded  the  special  consideration  of  the 
elementary  process  of  callinar  up  or  resuscitating: 

Recapitulation.  ^  , 

out  of  unconsciousness  the  mental  modifications 
which  the  mind,  by  its  Retentive  Faculty,  preserves  from  absolute 
extinction;  the  process  to  which  I  gave  the  not  unexceptionable 
name  of  the  Reproductive,  and  which,  as  left  to  its  sj^ontaneous 
action,  or  as  modified  by  the  will,  obtains  the  several  denominations 
of  Suggestion,  or  of  Reminiscence.  In  the  latter  part  of  the  Lec- 
ture, I  was  engaged  in  showing  that  the  common  doctrine  in  regard 
to  Reproduction  is  altogether  inadequate  to  the  phaenomenn,  —  that 
it  allows  to  the  mind  only  the  power  of  reproducing  the  minima  of 
thought  in  succession,  as  in  speech  it  can  only  enunciate  these  one 
after  another ;  whereas,  in  the  process  of  Suggestion  and  Reminis- 
cence, thoughts  are  awakened  simultaneously  in  multitudes,  in  so 
far  as  to  be  brought  into  the  immediate  presence  of  the  mind;  in 
other  words,  they  all,  like  the  letters  of  a  writing  which  we  glance 
over,  produce  their  effect,  but  those  only  upon  which  the  mind  con- 
centrates its  attention  are  drawn  out  into  the  liarht  and  foreground 
of  consciousness. 

Having  thus  terminated  the  separate  consideration  of  the  two 
first  of  the  three  correlative  processes  of  Retention,  Reproduction, 
and  Representation,  I  proceed  to  the  special  discussion  of  the  last, 
—  the  Representative  Faculty. 

By  the  faculty  of  Representation,  as  I  formerly  mentioned,  I 

mean  strictly  the  power  the  mind  has  of  hold- 

e    acu  ty  o     ep-       -^  vividly  before  itself  the  thouj^hts  which. 

resentation,  —  what.  o     i  ^  ^  o  , 

by  the  act  of  Reproduction,  it  has  recalled  into 
consciousness.  Though  the  processes  of  Representation  and  Repro- 
duction cannot  exist  independently  of  each  other,  they  are  never- 
theless not  more  to  be  confounded  into  one  than  those  of  Repro- 
duction  and    Conservation.      They  are,  indeed,  discriminated   by 


Lect    XXXm.  METAPHYSICS.  451 

differences  tiiifHciently  decisive.  Reproduction,  as  we  have  seen, 
operates,  in  part  at  least,  out  of  consciousness.  Representation,  on 
the  contrary,  is  only  realized  as  it  is  realized  in  consciousness ;  the 
degree  or  vivacity  of  the  representation  being  always  in  j)roportion 
to  the  desrree  or  vivacity  of  our  consciousness  of  its  realitv.     Xor 

are  the  energies  of  Representation  and  Repro« 

Representation  and       duction  always  cxcrtcd  by  the  same  individual 

Reproduction  not  ai-       j,^  ^  ^^.^j  i^tensitv,  any  morc  than  the  energies 

ways  exerted    by  tlie  .        *      •  t    t^  . 

same  individual  iu  ^^  Reproduction  and  Retention.  Some  minds 
equal  intensity;  but  are  distinguished  for  a  higher  power  of  mani- 
aii  stron-  or  weak  in       festing   onc   of  thcsc    idiajnoiiiena ;    others,  for 

the   same    individuals  .„       .  ,  ,  .       .  , 

in  reference  to  the  "^^^"ifesting  auotlicr ;  and  as  It  IS  not  always 
same  classes  of  objects.       the  pcrsou  wlio  forgets  nothing,  who  can  most 

promptly  recall  what  he  retains,  so  neither  is  it 
always  the  person  wlio  recollects  most  easily  and  correctly,  who 
can  exhibit  what  he  remembers  in  the  most  vivid  colors.  It  is  to 
be  recollected,  however,  that  Retention,  Reproduction,  and  Repre- 
sentation, though  not  in  different  persons  of  the  same  relative  vigor, 
are,  however,  in  the  same  individuals,  all  strong  or  weak  iu  refer- 
ence to  the  same  classes  of  objects.  For  example,  if  a  man's 
memory  be  more  peculiarly  retentive  of  words,  his  verbal  reminis- 
cence and  imagination  will,  in  like  manner,  be  more  particularlv 
energetic. 

I  formerly  observed,  that  jtliilosopliers  not  having  carried  their 
p.sychological  analysis  so  far  as  the  constituent  or  elementary  pro- 
cesses, the  faculties  in  their  systems  are  only  precarious  unions  of 
these  processes,  in  binary  or  even  trinary  combination,  —  unions, 
consequently,  in  which  hardly  any  two  philosophers  are  at  one.  In 
common  language,  it  is  not  of  course  to  be  expected  that  tiiere 
should  be  found  terms  to  express  the  result  of  an  analysis,  wliicli 
had  not  even  been  performed  by  philosophers;  and,  accordingly, 
the  term  Imagination  or  Phantasy^  which  denotes  most  nearh-  the 
representative  ])rocess,  does  this,  however,  not  without  an  adinixttiro 
of  other  jtrocesses,  which  it  is  of  consequence  for  scientific  precision 
that  we  should  consider  apart. 

Philosophers   have   divided   Imagination    into   two,  —  what   tliey 

call  the  Re})roductive  and  the  Productive.     By 

rhiiosophers have di-       the  former,  they  mean  imagination  considered 

vided  imn,.inationin.       .^^  ^j.^    |^  reexhibitiurr,  repre^scntin-  the  objects 

to  I{eproductive(Con-  '    '  S"        1  ^  J 

ception,)  and  I'roduc-       Presented  by  perception,  that  is,  exliil)iting  them 
tive.  without  addition,  or  retrenchment,  or  anv  ch:in<re 

in   the   relations   whidi    tliey   reciprocally   held, 
when  first  made  known  to  us  tlirough  sense.     Tliis  operation  Mr. 


452  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIIL 

Stewart^  has  discriminated  as  a  separate  faculty,  and  bestowed  on 

it  the  name   of  Conception.      This  discrimina- 

This  discrimination       tion    and    nomenclature,    I    think    unfortunate. 

unfortunate  in  itself       rpj^^  discrimination  is  unfortunatc,  because  it  is 

and  in   its  nomencla-  ,  .      ,  -,■     •  •  i 

jjj^  unphilosophical    to    distmguish,    as    a    separate 

faculty,  what  is  evidently  only  a  special  appli- 
cation of  a  common  power.  The  nomenclature  is  unfortunate,  for 
the  term  Conceptiofi,  which  means  a  taking  up  in  bundles,  or 
grasping  into  unity,  —  this  term,  I  say,  ought  to  have  been  left  to 
denote,  what  it  previously  was,  and  only  properly  could  be,  applied 
to  express,  —  the  notions  we  have  of  classes  of  objects,  in  other 
words,  what  have  been  called  our  general  ideas.  Be  this,  however, 
as  it  may,  it  is  evident,  that  the  Reproductive  Imagination  (or  Con- 
ception, in  the  abusive  language  of  the  Scottish  j^hilosophers)  is 
not  a  simple  faculty.  It  conipi-ises  two  processes  :  —  first,  an  act  of 
representation  strictly  so  called ;  and,  secondly,  an  act  of  reproduc- 
tion, arbitrarily  limited  by  certain  contingent  circumstances  ;  and  it 
is  from  the  arbitrary  limitation  of  this  second  constituent,  that  the 
faculty  obtains  the  only  title  it  can  exhibit  to  an  independent  exist- 
ence. Nor  can  the  Productive  Imagination  establish  a  better  claim 
to  the  distinction  of  a  separate  faculty  than  the  Reproductive.  The 
Productive  or  Creative  Imagination  is  that  which  is  usually  sig- 
nified by  the  term  Imagination  or  Fancy,  in  ordinary  language. 
Now,  in  the  first  place,  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  the  term^  produc- 
tive or  creative  are  very  improperly  applied  to  Imagination,  or  the 
Representative  Faculty  of  mind.  It  is  admitted  on  all  hands,  that 
Imagination  creates  nothing,  that  is,  produces  nothing  new;  and 
the  terms  in  question  are,  therefore,  by  the  acknowledgment  of  those 
who  employ  them,  only  abusively  applied  to  denote  the  operations 
of  Fancy,  in  the  new  arrangejient  it  makes  of  the  old  objects 

furnished  to  it  by  the  senses.     We  have  now, 
Imagination,  as  a       therefore,  only  to  consider,  whether,  in  this  cor- 

plastic    energy,    is    a  _  .  -,  .         .  ,        . 

complex  operation.  rected  meaning,  Imagmation,  as  a  plastic  energy, 

be  a  simple  or  a  complex  operation.  And  that 
it  is  a  complex  operation,  I  do  not  think  it  will  be  at  all  diflicult  to 
prove. 

In  the  view  I  take  of  the  fundamental  processes,  the  act  of 

representation  is  merely  the  energy  of  the  mind 

The  act  of  Repre-       -^^  holding  up  to  its  own  contemplation  what  it 

sentation,  — what.  .  .       %  t     t     •  •   i 

IS  determined  to  represent.  1  distinguish,  as 
essentially  difierent,  the  representation,  and  the  determination  to 

1  EUtnents,  vol.  i.  part  i.  c.  3      Works,  vol.      tion,  see  Sir  W.  Hamilton's  Edition  of  hi« 
ii  p.  144     On  Eeid's  use  of  the  term  Concep-      Works,  p  360,  note  t,  and  p  407,  note  t-  —  ED' 


I 


Lect.  XXXIII.  METAPHYSICS.  453 

represent.  I  exclude  from  the  faculty  of  Representation  all  power 
of  preference  among  the  objects  it  holds  up  to  view.  This  is  the 
function  of  faculties  wholly  different  from  that  of  Representation, 
which,  though  active  in  representing,  is  wholly  passive  as  to  what  it 
represents. 

What,  then,  it  may  be  asked,  are  the  powers  by  which  the  Repre- 
sentative  Faculty  is   determined   to  represent, 

Two  powers  by  and  to  represent  this  particular  object,  or  this 
which  the  Keprescnta-       paiticular  complement  of  objects,  and  not  any 

tive  Faculty  is  deter-  .1        o       rp,  ^  rp,        j^     ,       x.  ,, 

mined  to  energy.  ^^^^^''^        ^^'^^^^    are    tWO.       The   first    of  theSO   IS 

1.  Tiie  Keproductive  the  Reproductive  Faculty.  This  faculty  is  the 
Faculty.  great  immediate  source  I'rom  which  the  Repi-e- 

sentative  receives  both  the  materials  and  the 
determination  to  represent ;  and  the  laws  by  which  the  Reproduc- 
tive Faculty  is  governed,  govern  also  the  Representative.  Accord- 
ingly, if  there  were  no  other  laws  in  the  arrangement  and  combi- 
nation of  thought  than  those  of  association,  the  Representative 
Faculty  would  be  determined  in  its  manifestations,  and  in  the 
character  of  its  manifestations,  by  the  Reproductive  Faculty  alone ; 
and,  on  this  supposition,  representation  could  no  more  be  distin- 
guished from  reproduction  than  reproduction  from  association. 

But  there  is  another  elementary  -process  which  we  have  not  yet 
considered,  —  Comparison,   or   the    Faculty   of 

.      e     acu  y  o        relations,  to  which  the  representative  act  is  like- 

Kelations.  ,  \  ' 

wise  subject,  and  which  plays  a  conspicuous 
part  in  determining  in  what  combinations  objects  are  represented. 
By  the  process  of  Comparison,  the  complex  objects,  —  the  congeries 
of  phasnomena  called  up  by  the  Rejtroductive  Faculty,  undergo 
various  operations.  They  are  separated  into  parts,  they  are  analyzed 
into  elements;  and  these  parts  and  elements  are  again  compounded 
in  every  various  fashion.  In  all  this  the  Representative  Faculty 
cooperates.  It,  first  of  all,  exhibits  the  pluenomena  so  called  up  by 
the  laws  of  ordinary  association.  In  this  it  acts  as  handmaid  to 
the  Reproductive  Faculty.  It  then  exhibits  the  pluenomena  as 
variously  elaborated  by  the  analysis  and  synthesis  of  the  Compara- 
tive Faculty,  to  which,  in  like  manner,  it  j)eitV)rms  the  j»art  of  .1 
subsidiary. 

This  being  understood,  you  will  easily  perceive,  that  the  Imagi- 
nation of  common  language,  —  the  Productive  Imagination  of  phi- 
losophers,—  is  nothing  but  the  Representative  process  j>h/ii  the 
process  to  which  I  would  give  the  name  of  the  Comparatire.  In 
this  compound  ojx-ration,  it  is  true  that  the  re]>resentative  act  is  the 
most  conspicuous,  perhaps    the    most    essential,  element.      For,  in 


454  METAPHYSICS.  Lect    XXXIIl 

the  first   place,  it  is   a  condition  of  the  possibility  of  the  act  of 

comparison,  —  of  the  act  of  analytic  synthesis, 

The  Imagination  of       that  the  material  on  which  it  operates  (that  is, 

common  lanpiage  is       ^^le  objccts  reproduced  in  their  natural  connec- 

equivalent  to  the  pro-  .  ^  i  \       t     ■,  -, 

cesses  of  Kepresenta-       ^^^^^V  s'lould   be  held  up  to  its  observation  in 
tion  and  Comparison.       a  clear  light,  in  order  that  it  may  take  note 

of  their  various  circumstances  of  relation ;  and, 
in  the  second,  that  the  result  of  its  own  elaboration,  that  is,  the 
new  arrangements  Avhich  it  proposes,  should  be  realized  in  a  vivid 
act  of  representation.  Thus  it  is,  that,  in  the  view  both  of  the 
vulgar  and  of  philosophers,  the  more  obtrusive,  though  really  the 
more  subordinate,  element  in  this  compound  process  has  been 
elevated  into  the  principal  constituent ;  whereas,  the  act  of  compar- 
ison, —  the  act  of  separation  and  reconstruction,  has  been  regarded 
as  identical  with  the  act  of  representation. 

Thus  Imagination,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  the  terra,  is  not 

a  simple   but  a  compound  faculty,  —  a  faculty, 

The  process  of  Rep-       however,  in  which  representation,  —  the  vivid 

re^entationtheprinci-       exhibition   of  an   object,  —  forms  the  principal 

pal  constituent  of  Im-  .  i  r 

agination,    as    com-       Constituent.     If,  therefore,  we  were  obliged  to 
moniy  understood.  find  a  commou  word  for  every  elementary  pro- 

cess of  our  analysis,  —  Imaginatio)i,  would  be 
the  term,  which,  Avith  the  least  violence  to  its  meaning,  could  be 
accommodated  to  express  the  Representative  Faculty. 

By  Imagination,  thus  limited,  you   are  not  to  suppose  that  the 

faculty  of  representing   mere    objects  of  sense 

Imagination    not       alonc'is  meant.      On  "the   contrarv,  a  vigorous 

limited  to    objects    ol  .  .  „  ^  o 

genge.  power  of  representation  is  as  indispensable  a 

condition  of  success  in  the  abstract  sciences,  as 
in  the  poetical  and  plastic  arts ;  and  it  may,  accordingly,  be  reason- 
ably doubted  whether  Aristotle  or  Homer  were  possessed  of  the  more 
poAverful  imagination.  "  We  may,  indeed,  affirm,  that  there  are  as 
many  difierent  kinds  of  imagination  as  there  are  different  kinds  of 
intellectual  activity.  There  is  the  imagination  of  abstraction,  which 
represents  to  us  certain  ])hases  of  an  object  to  the  exclusion  of  oth- 
ers, and,  at  the  same  time,  the  sign  by  which  the  phases  are  united ; 
the  imagination  of  wit,  Avhich  represents  differences  and  contrasts, 
and  the  resemblances  by  which  these  are  again  combined';  the 
imagination  of  judgment,  which  represents  the  various  qualities 
of  an  object,  and  binds  them  together  under  the  relations  of  sub- 
stance, of  attribute,  of  mode ;  the  imagination  of  reason,  which 
represents  a  princij^le  in  connection  with  its  consequences,  the  effect 
in  dependence  on  its  cause ;  the  imagination  of  feeling,  which  rep- 


Lect.  XXXm.  METAPHYSICS.  45o 

resents  the  accessory  images,  kindred  to  some  particular,  and  which 
therefore  confer  on  it  greater  compass,  depth,  and  intensity ;  tlie 
imagination  of  volition,  wliich  represents  all  the  circumstances  which 
concur  to  persuade  or  dissuade  from  a  certain  act  of  will ;  tlie  im 
agination  of  the  p;issions,  which,  according  to  the  nature  of  the 
affection,  represents  all  that  is  homogeneous  or  analogous;  finally, 
the  imagination  of  the  poet,  which  represents  whatever  is  new,  or 
beautiful,  or  sublime,  —  whatever,  in  a  word,  it  is  determined  to 
represent  by  any  interest  of  art."  ^  The  term  imagination,  however, 
is  less  generally  applied  to  the  representations  of  the  Comparative 
Faculty  considered  in  the  abstract,  than  to  the  representations  of 
sensible  objects,  concretely  modified  by  comparison.  The  two  kinds 
of  imagination  are  in  fact  not  frequently  combined.  Accordingly, 
using  the  term  in  this  its  ordinary  extent,  that  is,  in  its  limitation 
to  objects  of  sense,  it  is  finely  said  by  Mr.  Hume  :  "Nothing  is  more 
daniierous  to  reason  than  the  fliijhts  of  imamnation,  and  nothinir 
has  been  the  occasion  of  more  mistakes  among  j)hiloso])hers.  Men 
of  bright  fancies  may,  in  this  respect,  be  compared  to  those  angels 
whom  the  Scriptures  represent  as  covering  their  eyes  with  their 
wmgs.^ 

Considering  the  Representative  Faculty  in  subordination  to  its 

two  determinants,  the  faculty  of  Reproduction 

Three  principal  or-       and  tlic  faculty  of  Comjiarison  or  Elaboration, 

ders   in   wi.ich    Im-       ^^.^.    j^^^^,  distinguish   three    principal    orders  in 

agination     represents  i  .    i     V  •        ^ 

ijg^g  which  Imagination  represents  ideas  :  —  "1°,  The 

Natural  order ;   2",  The  Logical  order ;  3°,  The 

Poetical  order.     The  natural  order  is  that  in  which  we  receive  the 

impression  of  external  objects,  or  the  order  ac- 

1.  The  niiturai  or-       cording  to  which   our  thoughts  siiontaneouslv 

2.  The  logical  order.       gi'^up  themselves.    The  logical  order  consists  in 

pix^senting  Avhat  is  universal,  prior  to  wliat  is 
contained  under  it  as  particular,  or  in  presenting  the  i)articulai-s  first, 
and  then  ascending  to  the  universal  which  thev  constitute.  The 
former  is  the  order  of  deduction,  the  latter  that  of  induction.  Tliese 
two  orders  have  this  in  common,  that  they  deliver  to  us  notions  in 
the  dependence  in  which  the  antecedent  explains  tlie  subsequent. 

The  poetical  order  consists  in  seizing  individual 

3.  The    poetical    or-  •  ^  i   •  •  ^i  •  i 

,  Circumstances,  and  in  grou]>ino:  tliem   iii  such   a 

^er  '^^         1       -' 

manner  that  tlie  imagination  shall  re])resent  them 
80  as  they  might  be  offered  by  the  sense.  The  natural  order  is  in- 
voluntary; it  is  established  independently  of  our  concurrence.     The 

I  Ancillon,  Eisais  PhilosafkiqMts,  ii.  151.    2  Treatise  of  Human  Saturt,  book  1.  part  iv.  S  7.— Eix 


456  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIIl 

logical  order  is  a  child  of  art,  it  is  the  result  of  our  will ;  but  it  is 
conformed  to  the  laws  of  intelligence,  which  tend  always  to  recall 
the  particular  to  the  general,  or  the  general  to  the  particular.  The 
poetical  order  is  exclusively  calculated  on  effect.  Pindar  Avould  not 
be  a  lyric  poet,  if  his  thoughts  and  images  followed  each  other  in 
the  common  order,  or  in  the  logical  order.  The  state  of  mind  in 
which  thought  and  feeling  clothe  themselves  in  lyric  forms,  is  a  state 
in  which  thoughts  and  feelings  are  associated  in  an  extraordinary 
manner,  —  in  which  they  have,  in  fact,  no  other  relation  than  that 
which  groups  and  moves  them  around  the  dominant  thought  or 
feeling  which  forms  the  subject  of  the  ode." 

"Thoughts  Avhich  follow  each  other  only  in  the  natural  order,  or 

as  they  are  associated  in  the  minds  of  men  in. 

Associations  tedious,       general,  form  tedious  conversations  and  tiresome 

unpleasing,  and  agree-  rp,  w  ..v.  ^v  i         i  i 

^,j,g  books.      ihoughts,  on  the   other   hand,  whose 

connection  is  singular,  capricious,  extraordinary, 
are  unpleasing ;  whether  it  be  that  they  strike  us  as  improbable,  or 
that  the  effort  which  has  been  required  to  produce,  supposes  a  cor- 
responding effort  to  comprehend.  Thoughts  whose  association  is 
at  once  simple  and  new,  and  which,  though  not  previously  witnessed 
in  conjunction,  are  yet  apjDroximated  without  a  violent  exertion, — 
such  thoughts  please  universally,  by  affording  the  mind  the  j:)k'asures 
of  novelty  and  exercise  at  once." 

"  A  peculiar  kind  of  imagination,  determined  by  a  peculiar  order 

of  association,  is  usually  found  in  every  period 

Peculiar  kinds  of       Qf  jjfg^  j^  every  scx,  in  every  country,  in  every 

imagination  determin-  ,.    .  .    -.  ,     ,  „  .       .       ,, 

ed  by  peculiar  orders  ^'^^'S'^^'  A  knowledge  of  men  pnncipally  con- 
of  association.  sists  in  a  knowledge  of  the  principles  by  which 

their  thoughts  are  linked  and  represented.  The 
study  of  this  is  of  importance  to  the  instructor,  in  order  to  direct 
the  character  and  intellect  of  his  pupils;  to  the  statesman,  that  he 
may  exert  his  influence  on  the  public  opinion  and  manners  of  a 
people ;  to  the  poet,  that  he  may  give  truth  and  reality  to  his  dra- 
matic situations;  to  the  orator,  in  order  to  convince  and  persuade; 
to  the  man  of  the  world,  if  he  would  give  interest  to  his  conversa- 
tion." 

"Authors  who  have  made  a  successful  study  of  this  subject,  skim 

over  a  multitude  of  circumstances  under  which 
Difference  between       jjj^  occurrence  has  taken  place  ;  because  they  are 

a  cultivated  and  a  vul-  ...  .  ,  .  , 

^j.jj^jjj^  aware  that  it  is  proper  to  reject  what  is  only 

accessory  to  the  object  which  they  would  present 

in  prominence.     A  vulgar  mind  forgets  and  spares  nothing ;  he  is; 

ignorant  that  conversation  is  always  but  a  selection  ;  that  every  story 


Lect.  xxxiit.  metaphysics.  457 

is  subject  to  tlie  laws  of  dramatic  poetry,  — festinat  ad  eventum  : 
and  that  all  which  does  not  concur  to  the  effect,  destroys  or  weakens 
it.  The  involuntary  associations  of  their  thoughts  are  imperative 
on  minds  of  this  description  ;  they  are  held  in  thraldom  to  the  order 
and  circumstances  in  Avhich  their  perceptions  were  originally  ob' 
tained,"'  This  has  not,  of  course,  escai)od  the  notice  of  the  greatest 
observer  of  human  nature.  JMrs.  Quickly,  in  i-emimling  Falstaff  of 
his  promise  of  marriage,  supplies  a  good  example  of  this  peculiarity- 
"  Thou  didst  swear  to  me  upon  a  parcel-gilt  goblet,  sitting  in  mj 
Dolphin  chamber,  at  the  round  table,  by  a  sea-coal  fire,  upon  Wed- 
nesday in  "Wliitsun  week,  when  the  })rince  broke  thy  head  for  liken- 
inir  his  father  to  a  siniring  man  of  Windsor," — and  so  forth.  In 
Martinus  Scriblerus,  the  coachman  tluis  describes  a  scene  in  the 
Bear  Garden :  "  lie  saw  two  men  fight  a  prize ;  one  was  a  fiiir  man, 
a  sergeant  in  the  guards;  the  other  black,  a  butcher;  the  sergeant 
had  red  breeches,  the  butcher  blue ;  they  fought  upon  a  stage,  about 
four  o'clock,  and  the  sergeant  wounded  the  butcher  in  the  leg." 
"  Dreaming,  Somnambulism,  Reverie,  are  so  many  eiFects  of  im- 
agination, determined  by  association,  —  at  least 

Dreaming  an   effect  ^^.^^^^    ^f   j^^j,^,|    j^^    yf\^x(t\\    theSC    havC    a    decisive 

of  ima;;ination,  deter-  t^^  •  •  xi  a. 

mined  by  association.       "ifiuence.     If  an  impression  on  the  sense  often 

commences  a  dream,  it  is  by  imagination  and 
suggestion  tliat  it  is  developed  and  accomplished.  Dreams  have 
frequently  a  degree  of  vivacity  which  enables  them  to  compete 
with  the  reality ;  and  if  the  events  which  they  represent  to  us  were 
in  accordance  with  the  circumstances  of  time  and  })lace  in  which 
we  stand,  it  would  be  almost  impossible  to  distinguish  a  vivid 
dream  from  a  sensible  perception."-  "If,"  says  Pascal,''  "we  dreamt 
every  niglit  the  same  thing,  it  would  perhaps  affect  us  as  powerfully 
as  the  objects  which  we  perceive  every  day.  And  if  an  artisan 
were  certain  of  dreaming  every  night  for  twelve  hours  that  he  wa* 
king,  I  am  convinced  that  he  would  be  almost  as  happy  as  a  king, 
who  dreamt  for  twelve  liours  that  he  was  an  artisan.  If  we  dreamt 
every  night  that  we  were  pin"sue<l  by  enemies  and  harassed  by  hor- 
rible ])hantoms,  we  should  sufier  almost  as  much  as  if  that  were 
true,  and  we  should  stand  in  as  great  dread  of  sleep,  as  we  should 

of  waking,  had  we  real  cause  to  apprehend  these  niisfortunes 

It  is  only  because  dreams  are  difierent  and  inconsistent,  that  we  can 
say,  when  we  awake,  that  we  have  dreamt;  for  life  is  a  dreani  a 
little  less  inconstant."     Now  the  case  which  Pascal  here  hypotheti- 

1  Ancillon,  Ksmu  Vhilos.  ii  152— loG.  —  Ed.         •''  Penfres,  partie  i.  art.  vi.  §  20.    Vol.  ii.  p 
i  Ancillon,  Ess.  Phil.  ii.  159.  —  Ed  ll)2,  (edit.  Faugere.J—  Kd. 

58 


468  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIII. 

cally  supposes,  has   actually   happened.      In   a  very  curious  Ger- 
man  work,   hy  Abel,  entitled  A    Collection  of 
ase  o      reaming      J^emarkablc  PhcB^iomenci   from  Human  Life, 

mentioned  by  Abel.  ^  _  ''  -"V"^) 

I  find  the  following  case,  which  I  abridge  :  —  A 
young  man  had  a  cataleptic  attack,  in  consequence  of  which  a 
singular  effect  was  operated  in  his  mental  constitution.  Some  six 
minutes  after  falling  asleep,  he  began  to  speak  distinctly,  and  almost 
ahvays  of  the  same  objects  and  concatenated  events,  so  that  he 
carried  on  from  night  to  night  the  same  history,  or  rather  continued 
to  ])lay  the  same  part.  On  wakening,  he  had  no  reminiscence 
whatever  of  his  dreaming  thoughts,  —  a  circumstance,  by  the  way, 
which  distinguishes  this  as  rather  a  case  of  somnambulism  than  of 
common  dreaming.  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  he  played  a  double 
part  in  his  existence.  By  day  he  was  the  poor  apprentice  of  a  mer- 
chant; by  night  he  was  a  married  man,  the  father  of  a  family,  a 
senator,  and  in  affluent  circumstances.  If  during  his  vision  any- 
thing was  said  in  regard  to  his  waking  state,  he  declared  it  unreal 
and  a  dream.  This  case,  which  is  established  on  the  best  evidence, 
is,  as  far  as  I  am  aware,  unique. 

The  influence  of  dreams  uj^on  our  character  is  not  without  its 
mterest.  A  ])articular  tendency  may  be  strengthened  in  a  man 
solely,  by  the  repeated  action  of  dreams.  Dreams  do  not,  however, 
as  is  commonly  supposed,  aftord  any  appreciable  indication  of  the 
character  of  individuals.  It  is  not  ahvays  the  subjects  that  occupy 
ns  most,  when  awake,  that  form  the  matter  of  our  dreams ;  and  it  is 
curious  that  the  persons  the  dearest  to  us  are  precisely  those  about 
Vhom  we  dream  most  rarely. 

Somnambulism  is  a  phaenomenon  still  more  astonishing.     In  this 
singular  state,  a  person  performs  a  regular  series 

Somnambulism.  „         .         ,  . 

of  rational  actions,  and  those  frequently  of  the 
most  difficult  and  <lclicate  nature,  and,  what  is  still  more  marvellous, 
with  a  talent  to  which  he  could  make  no  pretension  when  awake.^ 
His  memory  and  reminiscence  supply  him  with  recollections  of 
words  and  things,  which  perhaps' Avere  never  at  his  disposal  in  the 
ordinary  state ;  he  speaks  more  fluently  a  more  refined  language ; 
and,  if  we  are  to  credit  what  the  evidence  on  which  it  rests  hardly 
allows  us  to  disbelieve,  he  has  not  only  perceptions  through  other 
channels  than  the  common  organs  of  sense,  but  the  sphere  of  his 
cognitions  is  amplified  to  an  extent  far  beyond  the  limits  to  which 
sensible  perception  is  confined.  This  subject  is  one  of  the  most 
X")ery)lexing  in  the  whole  compass*  of  philosophy  ;   for,  on  the  one 

1  Cf.  Aucfllon,  Kssais  Philos.  ii.  161.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XXXni.  METAPHYSICS.  459 

hand,  the  phaenomcna  are  so  marvellous  that  they  cannot  be  l)elieved, 
and  yet,  on  the  other,  they  are  of  so  unambiguous  and  palpable  a 
character,  and  the  witnesses  to  their  reality  are  so  numerous,  so 
intelligent,  and  so  high  above  every  suspicion  of  deceit,  that  it  is 
equally  impossible  to  deny  credit  to  what  is  attested  by  such  ample 
and  unexceptionable  evidence. 

"  The  third  state,  that  of  Reverie  or  Castle-building,  is  a  kind  of 
waking  di-eam,  and  does  not  diftor  from  dream- 

RcvGri€. 

ing,  except  by  the  consciousness  which  accom- 
panies it.  In  this  state,  the  mind  abandons  itself  without  a  choice 
of  subject,  without  control  over  the  mental  train,  to  the  involuntary 
associations  of  imagination.  The  mind  is  thus  occupied  without 
being  properly  active ;  it  is  active,  at  least,  without  effort.  Young 
persons,  women,  the  old,  the  unemployed,  and  the  idle,  are  all  dis- 
posed to  reverie.  There  is  a  pleasure  attached  to  its  illusions,  which 
render  it  as  seductive  as  it  is  dangerous.  The  mind,  by  indulgence 
in  this  dissipation,  becomes  enervated,  it  acquires  the  habit  of  a 
pleasing  i<lleness,  loses  its  activity,  and  at  length  even  the  power 
and  the  desire  of  action."' 

"The  happiness  and  misery  of  every  individual  of  mankind 
depends    almost   exclusively  on    the    jjarticular 

The  happiness  and  character  of  liis  habitual  associations,  and  the 
miR-o  of  «i'e  individ-       j-elative  kind  and  intensitv  of  his  imajxination. 

ual  dependent  on  the         _      .  ,  '  "- 

character  of  hi.  habit-  ^^  '«  "^"^''^  l^*«s  what  We  actually  are,  and  what 
ual  associations.  wc  actually  posscss,  than  what  we  imagine  our- 

selves to  be  and  have,  that  is  decisive  of  ou'' 
existence  and  fortune."-  Apicius  conmiitted  suicide  to  avoid  star- 
vation, when  his  fortune  was  reduced  to  somewhere,  in  English 
money,  about  £100,000.  The  Roman  e])icure  imagined  that  he 
could  not  subsist  on  what,  to  men  in  general,  would  sccni  more  than 
aftiucnce. 

"  luiagination,  by  the  attractive  or  repulsive  pictures  with  which, 
according  to  oui-  habits  and  associations,  it  fill:' 

The  i«fluenc*  of  im-  j,^^  ^-..j,^^^.  ^^  ^^^j,.    jjf      ^^.^^^^^    ^^   ,.^..,,i^^.  .,    ,„.„_,i,,.^] 

■pi**j|i(iii    on    liimian  -i      •         /.     n   •  i  '  ri-.. 

jj(y.  charm,  or  <les])OUs  it  of  all  its  pleasantness.    1  lie 

imaginary  happy  and  the  imaginary  miseralde 
art'  common  in  the  worlil,  but  their  happiness  and  misery  are  not 
the  less  real;  evervtliiiig  dept'iids  on  the  mode  in  whieh  they  feel 
and  estimate  their  condition.  Fear,  hoj)e,  the  recollection  of  jiast 
I)leasures,  the  tonnents  of  absence  and  of  desire,  the  secret  and 
almost  resistless  tendency  of  the  mind  towards  certain  oVyects,  arc 

1  Ancillon,  Rsan  Philos.  il.  1(52.  —  Kn.  '-'  Ancillon.  Essah  PhUos.  il.  163,  164.  —  Ed 


460  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXill 

the  effects  of  association  and  imagination.  At  a  distance,  things 
seem  to  lis  radiant  with  a  celestial  beauty,  or  in  the  lurid  aspect  of 
deformity.  Of  a  truth,  in  either  case  we  are  equally  wrong.  When 
the  event  which  we  dread,  or  which  we  desire,  takes  place,  when 
we  obtain,  or  when  there  is  forced  upon  us,  an  object  environed 
with  a  thousand  hopes,  or  with  a  thousand  fears,  we  soon  discover 
that  we  have  expected  too  much  or  too  little ;  we  thought  it  by 
anticipation  infinite  in  good  or  evil,  and  we  find  it  in  reality  not 
only  finite,  but  contracted.  '  With  the  exception,'  says  Rousseau, 
'of  the  self-existent  Being,  there  is  nothing  beautiful,  but  that 
Avhich  is  not.'  In  the  crisis  wliether  of  enjoyment  or  suffering, 
happiness  is  not  so  much  happiness,  nor  misery  so  much  misery,  as 
we  had  anticipated.  In  the  past,  thanks  to  a  beneficent  Creator, 
our  joys  reappear  as  purer  and  more  brilliant  than  they  had  been 
actually  experienced ;  and  sorrow  loses  not  only  its  bitterness,  but 
is  changed  even  into  a  source  of  pleasing  recollection."^  "Suavis 
laborum  est  praeteritorum  jnemoria,"  says  Cicero;-  while  "haec  olim 
meminisse  juvabit,"^  is,  in  the  words  of  Virgil,  the  consolation  of  a 
present  infliction.  "  In  early  youth,  the  present  and  the  future  are 
displayed  in  a  factitious  magnificence;  for  at  this  period  of  life 
imagination  is  in  its  spring  and  freshness,  and  a  cruel  experience 
has  not  yet  exorcised  its  brilliant  enchantments.  Hence  the  fiiir 
picture  of  a  golden  age,  which  all  nations  concur  in  placing  in  the 
past;  it  is  the  dream  of  the  youth  of  mankind."''  In  old  age,  again, 
where  the  future  is  dark  and  short,  imagination  cai'ries  us  back  to 
the  reenjoyment  of  a  past  existence.  "The  young,"  says  Aristotle,*^ 
"live  forwards  in  hope,  the  old  live  backwards  in  memory;"  as 
Martial  has  well  expressed  it. 

Hoc  est 
Vivere  bis,  vi,a  posse  piiore  frui. 

From  all  this,  however,  it  appears  that  the  present  is  the  only 
time  in  which  we  never  actually  live ;  we  live  either  in  the  future, 
or  in  the  past.  So  long  as  we  have  a  future  to  anticipate,  we  con- 
temn the  present ;  and  Avhen  we  can  no  longer  look  forward  to  a 
future,  we  revert  and  spend  our  existence  in  the  past.  In  the  words 
of  Manilius  : 

"  Victuros  aglmus  semper,  nee  vivimus  unquam."' 

1  AnciUoTi,  Ess.  Phil.  a.  16i-5.  —  F.T>.  •    3  JBreetV,  i.  203.  — Ed. 

2  De  Finibiis,  ii.  32,  translated  from  Euripi-         i  Ancillon,  Essais  Philos.  ii.  166.  — E» 
des,    (quoted   by   Macrobius,    Sat.  vii.   2): —  •■>  Rhft.n.  12  aud  13.  —  Ed. 

'ns  ^5u    To«  auSffvza  ixifivrtabai  irivoov.  —         ^  Lib.  x.  epigr.  23.  —  Ed. 
Ed,  ^  Aslronomicon,  iv.  4  — Ed. 


Lect.  XXXm.  METAPHYSICS.  >  461 

In  the  words  of  Pope : 

"  Man  never  is,  hut  always  to  be  blest."  ^ 

I  shall  terminate  the  consideration  of  Imagination  Proper  by  a 

speculation  concerning  the  organ  whicli  it  em- 

imagination     em-     t  plovs  in  tlic  representations  of  sensible  objects. 

ploys  the  organs  of       rpj^^  ^  ^^^j^j^j^  -j.  ^^^^  employs  scems  to  be 

sense  in  the  represen-  i  i  r.  <-i 

tations  of  sensible  Ob-  "«  "^^her  than  the  organs  themselves  of  Sense, 
jects.  on  which  the  original  impressions  were  made, 

and  through  Avhich  they  were  originally  per- 
ceived. Experience  has  shown,  that  Imagination  depends  on  no 
one  part  of  the  cerebral  appai-atus  exclusively.  There  is  no  portion 
of  the  brain  which  has  not  been  destroyed  by  mollification,  or  indu- 
ration, or  external  lesion,  without  the  general  faculty  of  Representa- 
tion being  injured.  But  experience  equally  proves,  that  the  intra- 
cranial portion  of  any  external  organ  of  sense  cannot  be  destroyed, 
without  a  certain  paxtial  abolition  of  the  Imagination  Proj)er.  For 
example,  there  are  many  cases  recorded  by  medical  observers,  of 
persons  losing  their  sight,  who  have  also  lost  the  faculty  of  represent- 
ing the  images  of  visible  objects.  They  no  longer  call  up  such  objects 
by  reminiscence,  they  no  longer  dream  of  them.  Now  in  these 
cases,  it  is  found  that  not  merely  the  external  instrument  of  sight, 
—  the  eye,  —  has  been  disorganized,  but  that  the  disorganization  has 
extended  to  those  parts  of  the  brain  which  constitute  the  internal 
instrument  of  this,  sense,  that  is,  the  optic  nerves  and  thalami. 
If  the  latter,  —  the  real  organ  of  vision,  —  remain  sound,  the  eye 
alone  being  destroyed,  the  imagination  of  colors  and  forms  remains 
as  vigorous  as  when  vision  was  entire.  Similar  cases  are  recorded 
in  regard  to  the  deaf  These  facts,  added  to  the  observation  of  the 
internal  jjluenomena  which  take  place  during  our  acts  of  representa- 
tion, make  it,  I  think,  more  than  probable  that  there  are  as  many 
organs  of  Imagination  as  there  are  orpins  of  Sense.  Thus  I  have 
a  distinct  consciousness,  that,  in  the  internal  representation  of  visi- 
ble ol)jects,  the  same  organs  are  at  work  which  operate  in  the  exter- 
nal perception  of  these;  and  tlie  same  holds  good  in  an  imagination 
of  the  objects  of  Hearing,  Touch,  Taste,  and  Smell. 

r>ut  not  only  sensible  perceptions,  vohuitary  motions  likewise  are 
imitated  in  and  by  the  iinagination.     I  can,  in 

Voluntary  motions       imagination,  represent  the  action  of  si)eech,  the 

imit.itpfl  in  and  by  the  i  n    i  r-    i  i 

imuginution.  V''^y  ^'  ^''^'  '"I'scles  of  tlic  Countenance,  the  move- 

ment of  the  limbs;  and,  when  I  do  this,  I  feel 
clearly  that  I  awaken  a  kind  of  tension  in  the  same  nerves  through 

1  Essay  on  Man,  i.  95.  —  Ed. 


462  METAPHYSICS.  Le€t.  XXXIII 

which,  by  an  act  of  will,  I  can  detei-mine  an  overt  and  voluntary 
motion  of  the  muscles*,  nay,  when  the  play  of  imagination  is  very 
lively,  this  external  movement  is  actually  determined.  Thus  we 
frequently  see  the  countenances  of  persons  under  the  influence  of 
imagination  undergo  various  changes;  they  gesticulate  with  their 
hands,  they  talk  to  themselves,  and  all  this  is  in  consequence  only 
of  the  imagined  activity  going  out  into  real  activity.  I  should, 
therefore,  be  disposed  to  conclude,  that,  as  in  Perception  the  living 
organs  of  sense  are  from  without  determined  to  energy,  so  in  Imagi- 
nation they  are  determined  to  a  similar  energy  by  an  influence  from 
within. 


■H 


LECTURE    XXXIV. 

•     THE    ELABORATIVE    FACULTY CLASSIFICATION. 

ABSTRACTION. 

The  faculties  with  which  we  have  been  hitherto  engaged,  mn^ 

be    regarded    as    sul)sidiary  to    that  which   we 

The  Eiaborative  Fac-       ^^.^  ^^^^^  .j^^^^^  ^^  Consider.     This,  to  which  I 

ulty, — what  and  how  n    i        -rt-i    ^  •  -n         i 

,    .  ^^^^^  gave  the  name  oi  the  ll,laborative  t  acuity,  — 

the  Faculty  of  Relations,  —  or  Comparison, — 
constitutes  what  is  properly  denominated  Thought.  It  supposes 
always  at  least  two  terms,  and  its  act  results  in  a  judgment,  that  is, 
an  affirmation  or  negation  of  one  of  these  terms  of  the  other.  You 
will  recollect  that,  when  treating  of  Consciousness  in  general,   I 

stated    to    you,    that    consciousness    necessarily 
Every  act  of  mind       i^^.^lvcs  a  judgment;  and  as  everv  act  of  mind 

involves  a  judgment.  .  „  .  *  /•        •     i 

IS  an  act  of  consciousness,  every  act  oi  mmd,. 
consequently,  involves  a  judgment.^  A  conscioiasness  is  necessarily 
the  consciousness  of  a  determinate  something ;  and  we  cannot  be 
conscious  of  anything  Avithout  virtually  affirming  its  existence,  that 
is,  judging  it  to  be.  Consciousness  is  thus  primarily  a  judgment  or 
affirmation  of  existence.  Again,  consciousness  is  not  merely  the 
affirmation  of  naked  existence,  but  the  affirmation  of  a  certain 
qualified  or  determinate  existence.  We  are  conscious  that  we  exist 
only  in  and  through  our  consciousness  that  we  exist  in  this  or  that 
particular  state,  —  that  we  arc  so  or  so  affected,  —  so  or  so  active; 
an<l  we  are  only  conscious  of  this  or  that  particular  state  of  exist- 
ence, inasmuch  as  we  discrimin.ate  it  as  different  from  some  other 
state  of  existence,  of  which  we  have  been,  previously  conscious  and 
are  now  reminiscent;  but  such  a  discrimination  supposes,  in  con- 
sciousness, the  affirmation  of  the  existence  of  one  state  of  a  specific 
character,  and  the  negation  of  another.  On  this  ground  it  was  tliat 
I  maintained,  that  consciousness  necessarily  involves,  besides  rccol- 

1  See  above,  p.  410. —  Ed.  [Cf.  Aristotle,  ii.  c.  ult.  Gatien-Amoult,  P>-ogrammf,  pp.  31, 
Df  Mntione  Animal,  c.  vi.  ['H  <pavTa<Tla  koI  1*^.  lOG-  UeW\,  Int.  Powers,  Es8.  vi.  [c.  i- 
ij  aiffdTtffiS  .   .   .   KpiTiKa.-V.D.]     Posl  An.,       H ori*,  p.  414.  —  Ed.] 


464  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIV 

lection,  or  rather  a  certain  continuity  of  representation,  also  judg- 
ment or  comparison  ;  and,  consequently,  that,  so  far  from  comparison 
or  judgment  being  a  process  always  subsequent  to  the  acquisition 
of  knowlcMlge,  tlirough  perception  and  self-consciousness,  it  is  in- 
volved as  a  condition  of  the  acquisitive  process  itself.  In  point  of 
fact,  the  various  processes  of  Acquisition  (Aj^prehension),  Repre- 
sentation, and  Comparison,  are  all  mutually  dependent.  Compari- 
son cannot  judge  without  something  to  compare;  we  cannot  origi- 
nally acquire,  —  apprehend,  we  cannot  subsequently  represent  our 
knowledge,  without  in  either  act  attributing  existence,  and  a  certain 
kind  of  existence,  both  to  the  object  known  and  to  the  subject 
knowing,  that  is,  without  enouncing  certain  judgments  and  per- 
forming cei'tain  acts  of  comparison;  I  say  without  performing 
certain  acts  of  comparison,  for  taking  the  mere  affirmation  that  a 
thing  is,  —  this  is  tantamount  to  a  negation  that  it  is  not,  and 
necessarily  supposes  a  comparison,  —  a  collation,  between  existence 
and  non-existence. 

What  I  have  now  said  may  perhaps  contribute  to  prepare  you  for 

what  I  am  hereafter  to  say  of  the  faculty  or 

Defect  in  the  anaiy-       elementary  process  of  Comparison,  —  a  faculty 

sis  of  this  faculty  by  ,.,.,  ^      •         n 

philosophers.  which,  HI  the  analysis  of  philosophers,  is  exhib- 

ited only  in  j^art ;  and  even  that  part  is  not  pre- 
served in  its  integrity.  They  take  into  account  only  a  fragment  of 
the  process,  and  that  fragment  they  again  break  down  into  a 
j)lurality  of  faculties.  In  opposition  to  the  views  hitherto  promul- 
gated in  regard  to  Compai-ison,  I  will  show  that  this  faculty  is 
at  work  in  every,  the  simplest,  act  of  mind  ;  and  that,  from  the 
primary  affirmation  of  existence  in  an  original  act  of  consciousness 
to  the  judgment  contained  in  the  conclusion  of  an  act  of  reasoning, 
every  operation  is  only  an  evolution  of  the  same  elementary  pro- 
cess, —  that  there  is  a  diiference  in  the  complexity,  none  in  the 
nature,  of  the  act;  in  short,  that  the  various  products  of  Analysis 
and  Synthesis,  of  Abstraction  and  Generalization,  are  all  merely  the 
results  of  Comparison,  and  that  the  operations  of  Conception  or 
Simple  Apprehenison,  of  Judgment,  and  of  Reasoning,  are  all  only 
acts  of  Comparison,  in  various  applications  and  degrees. 

What  I  have,  therefore,  to  prove  is,  in  the  first  place,  that  Com- 
parison is  supposed  in  every,  the  simplest,  act 

Positions  to  be  estab-  n    i  ■,    -<  •       xi,  *    i     j.i_    ^  r-    j.' 

,. ,   ,  oi    knowledge ;    m  the  second,  that  our  laeti. 

hshed.  .  .  .   , 

tiously  simple,  our  factitiously  complex,  our 
abstract,  and  our  generalized  notions,  are  all  merely  so  many  pro- 
ducts of  Comparison  ;  in  the  third,  that  Judgment,  and,  in  the 
fourth,  that  Reasoning,   is  identical  Avith  Comparison.     In  doing 


Lect.  XXXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  465 

this,  I  shall  not  formally  distribute  the  discussion  into  these  heads, 
but  shall  include  the  proof  of  what  I  have  now  advanced,  while 
tracing  Comparison  frpm  its  simplest  to  its  most  complex  opera- 
tions. 

The  first  or  most  elementary  act  of  Comparison,  or  of  that  men- 
tal jjrocess  in  which  the  relation  of  two  terras  is 
Comparison  as  deter-       rgcognizcd  and  affirmed,  is  the  judgment  vir- 

mined     by     objective  ^      x«  -r>  ^-  c 

sonditions.  tually  pronounccd,  m  an  act  of  Perception,  of 

the  non-ego,  or,  in  an  act  of  Self-consciousness, 
'^f  the  ego.  This  is  the  primary  affirmation  of  existence.  The 
notion  of  existence  is  one  native  to  the  mind.     It  is  the  primary 

condition  of  thou<?ht.     The  first  act  of  exneri- 

The  first  act.  ^       •  ?    i       r-  /.  • 

ence  awoke  it,  and  the  first  act  oi  consciousness 
w^as  a  subsumption  of  that  of  which  we  were  conscious  under,  this 
notion  ;  in  other  words,  the  first  act  of  consciousness  was  an  affirma- 
tion of  the  existence  of  something.  The  first  or  simplest  act  of 
tjomparison  is  thus  the  discrimination  of  existence  from  non-exist- 
ence;  and  the  first  or  simplest  judgment  is  the  affirmation  of  exist- 
ence, in  other  words,  the  denial  of  non-existence.^ 

But  the  something  of  which  we  are  conscious,  and  of  which  we 
predicate  existence,  in  the  primary  judgment,  is 
twofold,  —  the  ego  and  the  non-ego.  AVe  are 
conscious  of  both,  and  affirm  existence  of  both.  But  we  do  more  ; 
we  do  not  merely  affirm  the  existence  of  each  out  of  relation  to  the 
other,  but,  in  affirming  their  existence,  we  affirm  their  existence  in 
duality,  in  difference,  in  mutual  contrast ;  that  is,  we  not  only  affirm 
the  ego  to  exist,  but  deny  it  existing  as  the  non-ego  ;  we  not  only 
affirm  the  non-ego  to  exist,  but  deny  it  existing  as  tlie  ego.  The 
second  act  of  comparison  is  thus  the  discrimination  of  the  ego  and 
the  non-ego;  and  the  second  judgment  is  the  affirmation,  that  each 
is  not  the  other. 

The  third  gradation  in  the  act  of  comparison,  is  in  the  recogni- 
tion of  the  multii)licity  of  the  coexistent  or  suc- 

Third.  .  I  J 

cessive  pha^noinena,  presented  either  to  Percep- 
tion or  Self-consciousness,  and  tlie  judgment  in  regard  to  tLoir 
resemblaiu-e  or  dissimilarity. 

The  fourth  is  the  comparison  of  the  pluenomena  with  the  native 
notion  of  Substance,  and  the  iudfjment  is  the 

J^ourth.  .  '  ''       *  , 

grouping  of  these  phoenomena  into  different 
bundles,  as  the  attributes  of  different  subjects.      In  tlie  external 

i  lCf.Trox\(ir,  Logikyii.Wet  seq.  Keinhold,  VHistoire  de  la  Philosophie,  (xviii«  SirCle)  1. 
T%eorie  lUs  Men.  Erkennt.  i.  290.  lieneke.  xxiii.,  xxiv.  Gamier,  Cours  de  Psychologie,  p. 
PiycK.  SktKen,  i.  227  tt  seq.     Cousin,  Cours  de      87.] 

59 


466  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXI V. 

world,  this  relation  constitutes  the  distinction  of  things;  in  the 
internal,  the  distinction  of  powers. 

The  fifth  act  of  comparison  is  the  collation  of  successive  phae- 
nomena  under  the  native  notion  of  Causality, 
and  the  affirmation  or  negation  of  their  mutual 
relation  as  cause  and  effect. 

So  far  the  process  of  comparison  is  determined  merely  by  objec- 
tive conditions;  hitherto  it  has  followed  only  in 
Comparison  viewed       ^^^  footsteps  of  nature.     In  those,  again,  we  are 

as   determined   by  the  '■  . 

necessities  ofthethink-       "ow  to  Consider,  the  procedure  is,  in  a  certain 

ing  subject.  sort,  artificial,  and  determined  by  the  necessities 

Classification  shown       ^f  ^^in   thinking   subjcct   itself      The   mind  is 

to  be  an  act  of  Com-         ^    .        .       .  „  ,  .  .  i  i 

jg^jj  finite  in  its  powers  oi  comprehension  ;  the  ob- 

jects, on  the  contrary,  which  are  presented  to  it 
are,  in  proportion  to  its  limited  capacities,  infinite  in  number.  How 
then  is  this  disproportion  to  be  equalized  ?  IIow  can  the  infinity 
of  nature  be  brought  down  to  the  finitude  of  man  ?  This  is  done 
by  means  of  Classification.  Objects,  though  infinite  in  number,  are 
not  infinite  in  variety ;  they  are  all,  in  a  certain  sort,  repetitions  of 
the  same  common  qualities,  and  the  mind,  though  lost  in  the  multi- 
tude of  particulars,  —  individuals,  can  easily  grasp  the  classes  into 
which  their  resembling  attributes  enable  us  to  assort  these.  This 
whole  process  of  Classification  is  a  mere  act  of  Comparison,  as  the 
following  deduction  will  show. 

In  the  first  place,  this  may  be  shown  in  regard  to  the  formation 

of  Complex  notions,  with  which,  as  the  simplest 

1.  In  regard  to  Com-       gpedes  of  classification,  we  mav  commence.    By 

plex  or  Collective  no-         A  ^  /-^    n        •  •       '    t 

x\oTxs,  Complex  or  Collective  notions,  1  mean  merely 

the  notion  of  a  class  formed  by  the  repetition  of 
the  same  constituent  notion.^  Such  are  the  notions  of  an  army^  a 
forest^  a  toion,  a  number.  These  are  names  of  classes,  formed  by 
the  repetition  of  the  notion  of  a  soldier,  of  a  tree,  of  a  house,  of  a 
unit.  You  are  not  to  confound,  as  has  sometimes  been  done,  the 
notion  of  an  army,  a  forest,  a  town,  a  number,  with  the  notions  of 
army,  forest,  town,  and  number ;  the  former,  as  I  have  said,  are 
complex  or  collective,  the  latter  are  general  or  universal  notions. 

It  is  evident  that  a  collective  notion  is  the  result  of  compar- 
ison. The  repetition  of  the  same  constituent  notion  supposes  that 
these  notions  were  compared,  their  identity  or  absolute  similarity 
affirmed. 

In  the  whole  process  of  classification,  the  mind  is  in  a  great 

1  Cf.  Locke,  Essay  on  the  Human   Understanding,  h    ii.  c.  xii.  §  5.  —  Ed.     Degerando,  Ue* 
Signes,  vol.  i.  c.  vii.  p.  170.  —  Ed. 


4 


Lect.  XXXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  407 

measure  dependent  upon  language  for  its  success ;  and  in  tliis,  the 

simplest  of  the  acts  of  classification,  it  may  be 
In  this,  the  eirapici^t       pro])er  to  show  how  language  affords  to  mind 

act    of   Classificatidii,  ,i  •    ,  •.  ■  r-^  , 

.   ,  .   ,        ,  tlie   assistance  it   requires.      Our  comijlex    no- 

the  miiiu  ]s  ui'iicmk-iit  _  _  ^  ^ 

on  language.  tions    being   formed    by   the  repetition    of  the 

same  notion,  it  is  evident  that  the  difficulty  we 
can  experience  in  forming  an  adequate  conception  of  a  class  of 
identical  constituents,  will  be  determined  by  the  difficulty  we  have 
in  conceiving  a  multitude.  "  But  the  comprehension  of  the  mind 
is  feeble  and  limited;  it  can  embrace  at  once  but  a  small  number 
of  objects.  It  Avould  thus  seem  that  an  obstacle  is  raised  to  the 
extension  of  our  complex  ideas  at  the  very  outset  of  our  combina- 
tions. But  here  language  interposes,  and  supplies  the  mind  with 
the  force  of  which  it  is  naturally  destitute."^  AVe  have  formerly 
seen  that  the  mind  cannot  in  one  act  embrace  more  than  five  or 
six,  at  the  utmost  seven,  several  units.-  How  then  does  it  proceed  ? 
"  "When,  by  a  first  combination,  we  have  obtained  a  complement  of 
notions  as  complex  as  the  mind  can  embrace,  we  give  this  comple- 
ment a  name.  This  being  done,  we  regard  the  assemblage  of  units 
thus  bound  up  under  a  collective  name  as  itself  a  unit,  and  proceed, 
by  a  second  combination,  to  accumulate  these  into  a  new  comple- 
ment of  the  same  extent.  To  this  new  complement  we  give 
another  name;  and  then  again  proceed  to  j)ei-forra,  on  this  more 
complex  unit,  the  same  operation  we  had  performed  on  the  first ; 
and  so  we  may  go  on  rising  from  com])lement  to  complement  to 
an  indefinite  extent.  Thus,  a  merchant,  having  received  a  large 
unknown  sum  of  money  in  croAvns,  counts  out  the  pieces  by  fives, 
and  having  done  this  till  he  has  reached  twenty,  he  lays  them 
together  in  a  heap  ;  around  these,  he  assembles  similar  piles  of  coin, 
till  they  amount,  let  us  say,  to  twenty;  and  he  then  puts  the  wliole 
four  hundred  into  a  bag.  In  this  manner  ho  proceeds  until  he  fills 
a  number  of  bags,  and  placing  the  wholi-  in  his  coffei-s,  he  will  have 
a  complex  or  collective  notion  of  the  quantity  of  crowns  which  he 
has  received."^  It  is  on  this  i)rinciple  that  arithmetic  proceed>,  — 
tens,  hundreds,  thousands,  myriads,  hundreds  ot"  thousands,  millions, 
etc.,  are  all  so  many  factitious  units  which  enable  us  to  form  notions, 
vague  indeed,  of  what  otherwise  we  could  have  obtained  no  con- 
ception at  all.  80  much  for  complex  or  collective  notions,  formed 
without  decomposition,  —  a  process  which  I  now  go  on  to  consider. 
Our  thought,  —  that  is,  the  sum  total  of  the  perceptions  and 
representations  which  occu2)y  us  at  any  given  moment,  is  always,  as 

1  Degerando,  />»,«  ■S/>nf.5,  vol.  i.  c.  vii.  J).  165.  3  Degerando,  i><.<   Sigiui,  vol.  i.  c.  n  ij.  p 

3  See  above,  lect.  xiv.  p.  173.  — Ed.  165,  165,  [slightly  abridged.  — Ed.] 


468  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXI V. 

I  have  frequently  observed,  compound.     The  composite  objects  of 

thoughts  may  be  decomposed  in  two  ways,  and 

Decomposition  two-       for  the  suke  of  two  different  interests.     In  the 

^,  ■      ^    .  ,       first  place,  we    may  decompose    in    order  that 

1.  In  the  interest  of  ^  '  .  . 

the  Fine  Arts.  ^^'^    ^^^J    reconibine,   influenced    by   the    mere 

])leasure  which  this  plastic  operation  afibrds  us. 
This  is  poetical  analysis  and  synthesis.  On  this  process  it  is  need- 
less to  dwell.  It  is  evidently  the  w^ork  of  comparison.  For  exam- 
ple, the  minotaur,  or  chima3ra,  or  centaur,  or  gryphon  (hippogryph), 
or  any  other  poetical  combination  of  different  animals,  could  only 
have  been  effected  by  an  act  in  which  the  representations  of  these 
animals  Avere  compared,  and  in  which  certain  parts  of  one  were 
affirmed,  compatible  with  certain  i>a.rts  of  another.  How,  again,  is 
the  imagination  of  all  ideal  beauty  or  perfection  formed  ?  Simply 
by  comparing  the  various  beauties  or  excellencies  of  which  we  have 
had  actual  experience,  and  thus  being  enabled  to  pronounce  in 
regard  to  their  common  and  essential  quality. 

In  the  second  place,  we  may  decompose  in  the  interest  of  science  ; 
and  as  the  poetical  decomposition  was  princi- 

2.  In  the  interest  of  1 1  i  •  i      t    i  ^  •  j>  •    ^  i 

pally  accomplished  by  a  separation  oi  integral 
I^arts,  so  this  is  principally  accomj>lished  by  an 
abstraction  of  constituent  qualities.     On  this  process  it  is  necessary 
to  be  more  particular. 

Suppose  an  unknown  body  is  presented  to  my  senses,  and  that  it 
is  capable  of  affecting  each  of  these  in  a  eer- 
ie      ^^^^^  manner.     "  As  furnished  with  five  difl!erent 

senses. 

organs,  each  of  which  serves  to  introduce  a  cer- 
tain class  of  perceptions  and  representations  into  the  mind,  we 
naturally  distribute  all  sensible  objects  into  five  species  of  qualities. 
The  human  body,  if  we  may  so  speak,  is  thus  itself  a  kind  of 
abstractive  machine.  The  senses  cannot  but  abstract.  If  the  eye 
did  not  abstract  colors,  it  would  see  them  confounded  with  odors 
and  with  tastes,  and  odors  and  tastes  would  necessarily  become 
objects  of  sight." 

"  The  abstraction  of  the  senses  is  thus  an  operation  the  most 
natural ;  it  is  even  impossible  for  us  not  to  perform  it.  Let  us  now 
see  whether  abstraction  by  the  mind  be  more  arduous  than  that  of 
the  senses."^  We  have  formerly  found  that  the  comprehension  of 
the  mind  is  extremely  limited  ;  that  it  can  only  take  cognizance 
of  one  object  at  a  time,  if  that  be  known  with  full  intensity ;  and 

1  Laromiguiere,  [Lemons  Philosophie,  t.  ii.  p.  Fonseca.,  Isagoge  Philosophica],  [civ.  p.  7^,  B.p- 
ii.  1.  xi.  p.  340  Ed.]  Condillac,  [L'Jrrrfe  Psn-  pended  to  his  Instiiul.  Dialect,  (edit  1604)1 
«er,  p.  i.  c.  viii.  Cours,  t.  iii.  p.  295.     Ed.]    [Cf.      Ed.] 


Lect.  XXXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  469 

that  it  can  accord  a  simultaneous  attention  to  a  very  small  plurality 
of  objects,  and  even  that  imj»eifectly.      Thus  it  is  that  attention 
fixed  on  one  object  is  tantamount  to  a  withdrawal,  —  to  an  abstrac- 
tion, of  consciousness  from  every  other.     Ab- 

Abstraction,  — what.  ...  .,.  ,      />       •     i  -^ 

straction  is  thus  not  a  positive  act  ot  mind,  as  it 
is  often  erroneously  described  in  jihilosophical  treatises,  —  it  is 
merely  a  negation  to  one  or  more  objects,  in  consequence  of  its 
concentration  on  another. 

This  being  the  case.  Abstraction  is  not  only  an  easy  ami  natural, 

but  a  necessary  result.     "In  studying  an  object, 

Abstraction,— a  nat-       ^^,^  neither  excit  all  our  faculties  at  once,  nor  at 

ural  and  necessary  pro-  ,.   .  „  ,  . 

^,ggg  once  apply  them  to  all  the  qualities  oi  an  object. 

We  know  from  experience  that  the  effect  of 
such  a  mode  of  procedure  is  confusion.  On  the  contrary,  we  con- 
verge our  attention  on  one  alone  of  its  qualities,  —  nay,  contemplate 
this  quality  only  in  a  single  point  of  view,  and  retain  it  in  that 
aspect  until  we  have  obtained  a  full  and  accurate  conception  of  it. 
The  human  mind  proceeds  from  the  confused  and  complex  to  the 
distinct  and  constituent,  always  separating,  always  dividing,  always 
simplifying ;  and  this  is  the  only  mode  in  which,  from  the  weakness 
of  our  faculties,  we  are  able  to  ap^irehend  and  to  represent  with 
correctness."  * 

"  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  after  having  decomposed  everything,  we 

must,  as  it  were,  return  on  our  steps  b}'  recom- 
synthesis  necessary  ■       g.-crvthing  aiiew ;  for  uiiless  we  do  so, 

after  analysis.  '■  °  ;  ®  ' 

our  knowledge  Avould  not  be  conformable  to  the 
reality  and  relations  of  nature.  The  simple  qualities  of  body  have 
not  each  a  proper  and  independent  existence ;  the  ultimate  faculties 
of  mind  are  not  so  many  distinct  and  independent  existences.  On 
either  side,  there  is  a  being  one  and  the  same;  on  that  side,  at  once 
extended,  solid,  colored,  etc. ;  on  this,  at  once  capable  of  thought, 
feeling,  desire,  etc." 

"  But  although  all,  or  the  greater  number  of,  our  cognitions  com- 
prehend different  fasciculi  of  notions,  it  is  necessary  to  commence 
by  the  acquisition  of  these  notions  one  by  one,  through  a  successive 
application  of  our  attention  to  the  different  attributes  of  objects. 
The  abstraction  of  the  intellect  is  thus  as  natural  as  that  of  the 
senses.  It  is  even  imposed  upon  us  by  the  very  constitution  of  our 
mind."=^ 

"I  am  aware  that  the  expression,  ahsfractia/i  of  the  si'fiM'.'^,  is 
incorrect ;  for  it  is  the  mind  always  whicli  act.s,  be  it  through  the 

1  Laromigiiiure,  J^foni,  t.  ii.  p.  341.  —  Kd.  -  Luromiguiere,  Lr^ons,  t.  ii.  p.  342.  —  ED. 


470  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIV. 

medium  of  the  senses.     Tlie  impropriety  of  tlie  expression  is  not, 

liowever,  one  which  is  in  danger  of  leading  into 

The  expression,  ab-  i    •.  ,  •    ^         ^    ^i        • 

.     ..     \..^  error;  and  it  serves  to  pomt  out  the  miportant 

etraction  of  the  senses.  _  -"^  J^ 

fact,  that  abstraction  is  not  always  performed  in 
the  same  manner.  In  Perception,  —  in  the  presence  of  physical 
objects,  the  intellect  abstracts  colors  by  the  eyes,  sounds  by  the  ear, 
etc.  In  Representation,  and  when  the  external  object  is  absent,  the 
mind  operates  on  its  reproduced  cognitions,  and  looks  at  them  suc- 
cessively in  their  different  points  of  view."^ 

"  However  abstraction  be  performed,  the  result  is  notions  which 
are  simple,  or  which  approximate  to  simplicity ;  and  if  we  a])ply  it 
with  consistency  and  order  to  the  different  quahties  of  objects,  we 
shall  attain  at  length  to  a  knowledge  of  these  qualities  and  of  their 
mutual  dependencies ;  that  is,  to  a  knowledge  of  objects  as  they 
really  are.  In  this  case,  abstraction  becomes  analysis,  which  is  the 
method  to  which  we  owe  all  our  cognitions."'- 

The  process  of  abstraction  is  familiar  to  the  most  uncultivated 
minds ;  and  its  uses  are  shown  equally  in  the  mechanical  arts  as  in 
the  philosophical  sciences.  "  A  carpenter,"  says  Kaines,^  speaking 
of  the  great  utility  of  abstraction,  "  considers  a  log  of  wood  with 
regard  to  hardness,  firmness,  color,  and  texture;  a  philosopher, 
neglecting  these  properties,  makes  the  log  undergo  a  chemical 
analysis,  and  examines  its  taste,  its  smell,  and  component  principles; 
the  geometrician  confines  his  reasoning  to  the  figure,  the  length, 
breadth,  and  thickness;  in  general,  every  artist,  abstracting  from 
all  other  properties,  confines  his  observations  to  those  which  have  a 
more  immediate  connection  with  his  2>rofession." 

But  is  Abstraction,  or  rather,  is  exclusive  attention,  the  work  of 
Comparison  ?    This  is  evident.    The  application 

Abstraction  the  work  r     ^^      4.-         j.  i-       i  i  •      .  ^^.         r> 

ot  attention  to  a  particular  obiect,  or  quality  of 

of  comparison.  _  '  J        '  i  .' 

an  object,  supposes  an  act  of  will,  —  a  choice  or 
preference,  and  this  again  supposes  comparison  and  judgment.  But 
this  may  be  made  more  manifest  from  a  view  of  the  act  of  Generali- 
zation, on  which  we  are  about  to  enter. 

The  notion  of  the  figijre  of  the  desk  before  me  is  an  abstract 

idea,  —  an   idea   that  makes  part  of  the  total 

Generalization.    Idea         ^^^^-^^^   ^^  ^^.^^  ^^^^       ^^^^^   ^^  ^^.j^j^j^   j  j^^^^  ^^^_ 

abstract    and  individ- 
ual, centrated  my  attention,  in  order  to  consider  it 

exclusively.     This  idea  is  abstract,  but  it  is  at 

the  same  time  individual ;  it  represents  the  figure  of  this  particular 

1  Laromiguiere,  Lr^ems,  t.  ii.  p.  3-14,  slightly         3  Elements  of  Criticism,  Appendix,  §  4d;  vol 
abridged.  — Ed.  ii.  p.  533,  ed.  1788.  —Ed. 

2  Laromiguiere,  Lejon.i,  t.  ii.  p.  345.  —  Ed. 


I 


Lect.  XXXIV.  METAPHYSICS.  471 

desk,  ami  not  the  figure  of  any  other  body.  But  had  we  only  indi- 
vidual aV).stract  notions,  what  would  be  our  knowledge  ?  We  should 
be  cognizant  only  of"  qualities  viewed  apart  from  their  subjects; 
(and  of  separate  phaenomena  there  exists  none  in  nature)  ;  and  as 
these  qualities  are  also  separate  from  each  other,  we  should  have  no 
knowledge  of  their  mutual  relations.' 

It  is  necessary,  therefore,  that  we  should  form  Abstract  General 

notions.     This  is  done  when,  comparing  a  num- 

Abstract  General  no-       ^^^.  ^^  objects,  we  seize  on  their  resemblances; 

tions,  —  what  aud  how 

formed.  wheu   we   concentrate   our   attention  on    these 

points  of  similarity,  thus  abstracting  the  mind 
from  a  consideration  of  their  differences ;  and  when  we  give  a  name 
to  our  )iotion  of  that  circumstance  in  which  they  all  agree.  The 
general  notion  is  thus  one  which  makes  us  know  a  quality,  property, 
power,  action,  relation  ;  in  short,  any  point  of  view,  under  which 
we  recognize  a  plurality  of  objects  as  a  unity.  It  makes  us  aware 
of  a  quality,  a  ])oiut  of  view,  common  to  many  things.  It  is  a 
notion  of  resemblance ;  hence  the  reason  why  general  names  or 
terms,  the  signs  of  general  notions,  have  been  called  terms  qfresetn- 
hlwice  {termini  similitt(clinis).  In  this  process  of  generalization, 
we  do  not  stop  short  at  a  first  generalization.  By  a  first  gen- 
eralization we  have  obtained  a  number  of  classes  of  resemblinir 
individuals.  But  these  classes  we  can  compare  together,  observe 
their  similarities,  abstract  from  their  differences,  and  bestow  on 
their  common  circumstance  a  common  name.  On  these  second 
•classes  Ave  can  again  perform  the  same  operation,  and  thus  ascend- 
ing the  scale  of  general  notions,  throwing  out  of  view  always  a 
greater  number  of  differences,  and  seizing  always  on  fewer  simi- 
larities in  the  formation  of  our  classes,  we  arrive  at  length  at  the 
limit  of  our  ascent  in  the  notion  of  being  or  existence.  Thus 
placed  on  the  summit  of  the  scale  of  classes,  we  descend  by  a 
process  the  reverse  of  that  by  which  we  have  ascended ;  we  divide 
nnd  subdivide  the  classes,  by  introducing  always  more  and  more 
characters,  and  laying  always  fewer  difterences  aside ;  the  notions 
become  more  and  more  composite,  until  we  at  length  arrive  at  the 
individual. 

I  may  here  notice  that  tliere  is  a  twofold  kind  of  quantity  to 

be   consiilered   in   notions.     It   is   evident,   that 

Twofold  quantity  in       j^^   proportion   as  the  class  is  high,   it  will,  in 

notions,  —  Kxtension  i      Vc  i  .  . 

aud  c'onipreheusion.         ^''^  "'"^^  Jjlacc,  contain  Under  it  a  greater  num- 
ber of  classes,  and,  in  the  second,  will  include 
the  smallest  complement  of  attributes.      Thus  being  or  existence 

1  We  should  also  be  overwhelmed  with  their  number.  —  Jotting. 


472 


METAPHYSICS. 


lect.  xxxiv: 


Their  designations. 


contains  under  it  every  class ;  and  yet  when  we  say  that  a  thing 
exists,  we  say  the  very  least  of  it  that  is  possible.  On  the  other 
hand,  an  individual,  though  it  contain  nothing  but  itself,  involves 
the  largest  amount  of  predication.  For  example,  when  I  say, — 
this  is  Richard,  I  not  only  affirm  of  the  subject  every  class  from 
existence  down  to  man,  but  likewise  a  number  of  circumstances 
proper  to  Richard  as  an  individual.     Now,  the  former  of  these 

quantities,  the  external,  is  called  the  Extension 
of  a  notion  {qucmtitas  ambitus)  ;  the  latter,  the 
internal  quantity,  is  called  its  Cotnprehension  or  Intension  {quan- 
titas  complexus).  The  extension  of  a  notion  is,  likewise,  styled  its 
circuity  region^  domain^  or  sphere  [sphcera)^  also  its  breadth  (ttXcitos). 
On  the  other  hand,  the  comprehension  of  a  notion  is,  likewise,, 
called  its  depth  {^dSo<;).  These  names  we  owe  to  the  Greek  logi- 
cians.^ The  internal  and  external  quantities  are 
in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other.  The  gi-eater 
the  extension,  the  less  the  comprehension  ;  the  greater  the  compre- 
hension, the  less  the  extension.^ 


Their  law. 


1  [See  Ammonius,  In  Categ.,  f.  33.  Gr.  f.  29.  ovaiav  Hoi  rh  ffwfia  Kol  rh  ffiypvxov  Koi  rh 

Lat.  Brandis,   Scholia  in  Arise,  p.   45.]     ('At  Cv'"'  '^"■^  outcos  i<pe^?is,  irKaros  5e,  hrav  Sie- 

Karriyoplai  Kal  ttAotos  ex""""'   '^"-^    fidbos,  Ar/s  tV  ovffiav  (is  awjxa.  Koi  curcvixaTOv. — 

0d^os   fieu    r))v   fls    ra   fiepiKwrfpa    avrwv  2  [Cf.   Port  Royal  Logic,  p.  i.  c.   vi.   p.  74. 

irpooSov,  irKaros  Se  rijv  fls  ra  irXayia  fj.(T-  Eugenics  (AoyiKi),  b.  i.  o.  iv.  p.  194  etteq.— 

JuTTo/rip,  olov  'Iva  fiddos  (liv  \dfir)s  oiiru  t^v  ed.i 


I 


LECTURE  XXXV. 

THE  ELABORATIVE  FACULTY. —  GENERALTZATIOX.  — NOMI- 
NALISM AND  CONCEPTUALISM. 

I  ENTERED,  in  my  last  Lecture,  on  the  discussion  of  that  great, 
cofjnitive  power  which  I  called  the  Elaborative 

Recapitulation.  t-,  ^     ,  i        t-\         i  n   t-«    t      •  i        -r^- 

t  acuity,  —  the  l"  acuity  oi  Kelations,  —  the  Dis- 
cursiye  Faculty,  —  Comparison,  or  Judgment;  and  which  con-e- 
sponds  to  what  the  Greek  philosophers  understood  by  Stavoto^ 
when  opposed,  as  a  special  faculty,  to  voC  I  showed  you,  that, 
though'  a  comparison, —  a  judgment,  inyolved  the  supposition  of 
two  relative  terms,  still  it  was  an  original  operation,  in  lact  in- 
volved in  consciousness,  and  a  condition  of  every  energy  of 
thought.  But,  besides  the  primary  judgments  of  existence,  —  of 
tlie  existence  of  the  ego  and  non-ego,  and  of  their  existence  in 
contrast  to,  and  in  exclusion  of,  each  other, —  I  showed  tliat  this 
process  is  involved  in  perception,  external  and  internal ;  inasmuch 
as  the  recognitions, — that  the  objects  presented  to  us  l)y  the  Ac- 
quisitive Faculty  are  many  and  complex,  that  one  quality  is  differ- 
ent from  another,  and  that  different  bundles  of  qualities  are  the 
properties  of  different  things  or  subjects,  —  are  all  so  many  acts  of 
Comparison  or  Judgment. 

This  being  done,  I  i»ointed  out  that  a  series  of  ojieiations  were 
to  be  referred  to  this  faculty,  which,  by  ])hilosoi)hers,  had  been 
made  the  functions  of  specific  ])o\vers.  Of  these  operations  I 
enumerated: — 1°,  Composition  or  Synthesis;  2°,  Abstraction,  De- 
composition or  Analysis  ;  3°,  Generalization ;  4°,  Judgment ;  and 
5°,  Reasoning. 

The  first  of  these,  —  Composition  or  Synthesis,  —  which  is  shown 
in  the  form.ition  of  Conqilex  or  Collective  notions,  I  stated  to  you 
was  the  result  of  an  act  of  comparison,  J'or  a  complex  notion 
(I  gave  you  as  examples  an  ar>tn/,  <i  forent,  a  town)  b«.'ing  oidy 
the  repetition  ol  notions  absolutely  similar,  this  similarity  coukl 
be  ascertained  only  by  comjiarisou.      In   spciking  of  this  process,  I 


474  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXXV 

explained  the  support  afforded  in  it  to  the  mind  by  hinguage.  I 
then  recalled  to  you  what  was  meant  by  abstraction.  Abstraction 
is  no  positive  act ;  it  is  merely  the  negation  of  attention.  We  can 
fully  attend  only  to  a  single  thing  at  a  time ;  and  attention,  there- 
fore, concentrated  on  one  object  or  one  quality  of  an  object,  neces- 
sarily more  or  less  abstracts  our  consciousness  from  others.  Ab- 
straction from,  and  attention  to,  are  thus  correlative  terms,  the 
one  being  merely  the  negation  of  the  other.  I  noticed  the  im- 
proper use  of  the  term  abstraction  by  many  philoso})hers,  in  ap- 
plying it  to  that  on  which  attention  is  converged.^  This  we  may 
indeed  be  said  to  prescind^  but  not  to  abstract.  Thus  let  A,  B,  C, 
be  three  qualities  of  an  object.  We  prescind  A,  in  abstracting  it 
from  B  and  C;  but  we  cannot,  without  impropriety,  simply  say 
that  we  abstract  A.  Thus  by  attending  to  one  object  to  the  ab- 
straction from  all  others,  we,  in  a  certain  sort,  decompose  or  an- 
alyze the  complex  materials  presented  to  us  by  Perception  and 
Self-consciousness.  This  analysis  or  decomposition  is  of  two  kinds. 
In  the  first  place,  by  concentrating  attention  on  one  integrant  part 
of  an  object,  we,  as  it  were,  withdraw  or  abstract  it  from  the 
others.  For  example,  we  can  consider  the  head  of  an  animal  to 
the  exclusion  of  the  other  members.  This  may  be  called  Partial 
or  Concrete  Abstraction.  The  process  here  noticed  has,  however, 
been  overlooked  by  philosopheis,  insomuch  that  they  have  opposed 
the  terms  concrete  and  abstract  as  exclusive  contraries.  In  the  sec- 
ond place,  we  can  rivet  our  attention  on  some  ])articular  mode  of  a 
thing,  as  its  smell,  its  color,  its  figure,  its  motion,  its  size,  etc.,  and 
abstract  it  from  the  others.  This  may  be  called  Modal  Abstraction. 
The  abstraction  we  have  been  now  speaking  of  is  performed 
on  individual  objects,  and  is  consequently  particular.  There  is 
nothing  necessarily  connected  with  Generalization  in  Abstraction. 
Oeneralizntion  is  indeed  dependent  on  abstraction,  which  it  sup- 
poses; but  abstraction  does  not  involve  generalization.  I  remark 
this,  because  you  will  frequently  find  the  terms  abstract  and  gen- 
eral applied  to  notions,  used  as  convertible.  Nothing,  however,  can 
be  more  incorrect.  "A  person,"  says  Mr.  Stewart,  "who  had  never 
seen  but  one  rose,  might  yet  have  been  able  to  consider  its  color 
apart  from  its  other  qualities ;   and,  therefore,  there  may  be  such 

« 

1  [Cf.  Kant,  De  Mundi  Sensibilis  Forma  [}  6.  Biran.  [Exatnen  des  Legotis  de  M.  Lnromiguiire. 

Vermischte  Sc/iriften,  ii.   449:  "  Proprie  dicoii-  §  3,  NouvHles   Considerat.  p.  194. — Ed.]     Bil- 

duni  esset  ah  aliyuibus  abslrahere.  non  alirjuid  finger,  Dilucidationes,  {  262.] 

abstrahere Coriceptus  intellectualis  •  [On  Precision,  and  its  various  kinds,  see 

abstrahil  ab  oinni  seii.sitivo,  non  aburahitiir  a  Derodon,  Logicn,  pars  ii.  c.  vi.  }  11.     Opera, 

«ensitivis,  et  forsitan  rectius  diceretur  abstm-  p.  233,  ed.  1*368;  and  Chauvin,  Lex-  v.  Prcuisi* 

kens,    quam    abstractus."  —  Ed.]      Maine    de  {Prir.soisio).\ 


Lect.  XXXV.  METAPHYSICS.  475 

a  thing  as  an  idea  which  is  at  once  abstract  and  particular.  After 
having  perceived  this  quality  as  belonging  to  a  variety  of  individ- 
uals, we  can  consider  it  without  reference  to  any  of  them,  and  thus 
form  the  notion  ot  redness  or  whiteness  in  general,  whicli  may  be 
called  a  general  abstract  idea.  The  words  abstract  and  general^ 
therefore,  when  applied  to  ideas,  are  as  completely  distinct  from 
each  other  as  any  two  words  to  be  found  in  the  language."  ^ 

I  showed  that  abstraction  implied  comparison  and  judgment; 
for  attention  supposes  preference,  preference  is  a  judgment,  and  a 
judgment  is  the  issue  of  comparison. 

I  then  proceeded  to  the  process  of  Generalization,  which  is  still 
more  obtrusively  comparison,  and  nothing  but  comparison.  Gener- 
alization is  the  process  through  which  we  obtain  what  are  called 
general  or  universal  notions.  A  general  notion  is  nothing  but  the 
abstract  notion  of  a  circumstance  in  which  a  number  of  individual 
objects  are  found  to  agree,  that  is,  to  resemble  each  other.  In  so 
far  us  two  objects  resemble  each  other,  the  notion  we  have  of  them 
is  identical,  and,  therefore,  to  ns  the  objects  may  be  considered  as 
the  same.  Accordingly,  having  discovered  the  circumstance  in 
which  objects  agree,  we  arrange  them  by  this  common  circumstance 
into  classes,  to  which  we  also  usually  give  a  common  name. 

I  explained  how,  in  the  prosecution  of  this  operation,  com- 
mencing with  individual  objects,  we  generalized  these  into  a  lowest 
<;lass.  Having  found  a  number  of  such  lowest  classes,  we  then 
compare  these  again  together,  as  we  had  originally  compared  indi- 
viduals; we  abstract  their  points  of  resemblance,  and  by  these 
points  generalize  them  into  a  higher  class.  The  same  process  we 
pei-form  upon  these  higher  classes  ;  and  thus  proceed,  generalizing 
class  from  classes,  until  we  are  at  last  arrested  in  the  one  highest 
class,  that  of  being.  Thus  we  find  Peter,  Paul,  Timothy,  etc.,  all 
agree  in  certain  common  attributes,  and  which  distinguisli  them 
from  otlier  animated  beings.  We  accordingly  collect  tliem  into  a 
<'lass,  which  we  call  man.  In  like  maimer,  out  of  the  other  ani- 
mated beings  which  we  exclude  from  wk//j,  we  form  the  classes, 
horse.,  clog,  ox.,  etc.  These  and  man  form  so  many  lowest  classes 
or  species.  But  these  s|)ecies,  though  ditfering  in  certain  respects, 
all  agree  in  others.  Abstracting  from  their  diversities,  we  attend 
only  to  their  resemblances;  an<l  as  all  manifesting  life,  sense, 
leeling,  etc.  —  this  resemblance  gives  us  a  class,  on  which  we  be- 
stow the  name  animal.  Animal,  or  living  sentient  existences, 
we     then    compare    with    lifeless    existences,    ami    thus    going   on 

1  Elrinentx,  vol.  i.  c.  iv.  §  1.      Works,  vol.   ii.  p.  liJo.  —  Ed.]      So   Wliatcly,  [Logic,  b.  L  i  6, 
p.  49;  b.  ii.  c.  v.  »  1,  p.  122  (8th  edit).  —  Kd.) 


476  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXV. 

abstracting  from  differences,  and  attending  to  resemblances,  we 
arrive  at  naked  or  undilferenced  existence.  Having  reached  the 
pinnacle  of  generalization,  we  may  redescend  the  ladder ;  and  this 
is  done  by  reversing  the  jDrocess  through  which  we  ascended. 
Instead  of  attending  to  the  similarities,  and  abstracting  from  the 
differences,  we  now  attend  to  the  differences,  and  abstract  from  the 
similarities.  And  as  the  ascending  process  is  called  Generalization,, 
this  is  called  Division  or  Determination; — division,  because  the 
higher  or  wider  classes  are  cut  down  into  lower  or  narrower ;  — 
determination,  because  every  quality  added  on  to  a  class  limits  or 
determines  its  extent,  that  is,  approximates  it  more  to  some  indi- 
vidual, real,  or  determinate,  existence. 

Having  given  you  this  necessary  information  in  regard  to  the 
nature  of  Generalization,  I  proceed  to  consider 

Generaiization.  —       one  of  the  most  simple,  and,  at  the  same  time,. 

Can  we  fora  an  ade-         ^^^  ^^  ^j^^  ^^^^j.  jg^ed   problems   in   philoSO- 

quate  idea  of  wliat  is  i       i  i  i 

denoted  by  an  ab-  phy,  —  in  regard  to  the  object  of  the  mind,— 
stract  general  term?  the  object  of  consciousness,  when  we  employ  a 

general  term.  In  the  explanation  of  the  pro- 
cess of  generalization  all  philosophei'S  are  at  one ;  the  only  differ- 
ences that  arise  among  them  relate  to  the  point,  —  whether  we  can 
form  an  adequate  idea  of  that  which  is  denoted  by  an  abstract,  or 
abstract  and  general  term.     In  the  discussion  of  this  question,  I 

shall  pursue  the  following  order :    first  of  all,. 

Order  of  discussion.  Tin  i  /»    i       -vt        • 

1  shall  State  to  you  the  arguments  oi  the  JMomi- 
nalists,  —  of  those  who  hold,  that  we  are  unable  to  form  an  idea 
corresponding  to  the  abstract  and  general  term ;  in  the  second 
place,  I  shall  state  to  you  the  arguments  of  the  Conceptualists, — 
of  those  who  maintain  that  we  are  so  competent;  and,  in  the  last, 
I  shall  show  you  that  the  opposing  parties  are  really  at  one,  and 
that  the  whole  controversy  has  originated  in  the  imperfection  and 
ambiguity  of  our  philosophical  nomenclature.  In  this  discussion  I 
avoid  all  mention  of  the  ancient  doctrine  of  Realism.  This  is 
curious  only  in  an  historical  point  of  view ;  and  is  wholly  irrele- 
vant to  the  question  at  issue  among  modern  philosophers. 

This  controversy  has  been  principally  agitated  in  this  country,, 
and  in  France,  for  a  reason  that  I  shall  hereafter 

Tiiis    controversy       gxplain  ;    and,  to  limit  ourselves  to  Great  Brit- 

principally  agitated  in  •  ■,         t^  •  p-kt-t 

Britain  and  France.  ^^"5  ^.hc   Doctnue   of   Nominalism   has,  among 

others,  been  embraced  by  Hobbes,  Berkeley, 
Hume,  Principal  Campbell,  and  Mr.  "Stewart ;  while  Conceptualism 
has  found  favor  with  Locke,  Reid,  and  Brown.^ 

1  See  below,  pp.  477,  301.  —Ed. 


I 


Lect.  XXXV.  METAPHYSICS.  477 

Throwing  out  of  view  the  antiquities  of  the  question  (and  this 

question  is  perhaps  more  memorable  tlian  any 

Two  opinions  which       ^^j^^^  jj^  ^|^^3  history  of  philosophy),  —  laying,  I 

still     divide     philoso-  ,        o  ^  •     •  i  •    i     i         '    ^ 

say,  out  oi   account  opmions  winch  have   been 

phers.  •' '  * 

long  exploded,  there  are  two  which  still  divide 
philosophers.  Some  maintain  that  every  act  and  every  object  of 
mind  is  necessarily  singular,  and  that  the  name  is  that  alone  which 
can  pretend  to  generality.  Others  again  hold  that  the  mind  is 
capable  of  forming  notions  representations,  correspondent  in  uni- 
versality to  the  classes  contained  under,  or  expressed  by,  the  gen- 
eral terra. 

The  former  of  these  opinions, — the  doctrine  as  it  is  called  of 

Nominalism, —  maintains  that  every  notion,  con- 

Nominalism.  .,  -..,^..  ,,  , 

sidered  yi  itseli,  is  singular,  but  becomes,  as  it 
were,  general,  through  the  intention  of  the  mind  to  make  it  rep- 
resent every  resembling  notion,  or  notion  of  the  same  class.  Take, 
for  example,  the  term  man.  Here  we  can  call  up  no  notion,  no 
idea,  corresponding  to  the  universality  of  the  class  or  term.  This 
is  manifestly  impossible.  For  as  man  involves  contradictory  attri- 
butes, and  as  contradictions  cannot  coexist  in  one  representation, 
an  idea  or  notion  adequate  to  man  cannot  be  realized  in  thought. 
The  class  man  includes  individuals,  male  and  female,  white  and 
black  and  copper-colored,  tall  and  short,  fat  and  thin,  straight  and 
crooked,  whole  and  mutilated,  etc.,  etc. ;  and  the  notion  of  the 
•class  must,  therefore,  at  once  represent  all  and  none  of  these.  It 
is,  therefore,  evident,  though  the  absurdity  was  maintained  by 
Locke,'  that  we  cannot  accomplish  this ;  and,  this  being  impossible, 
we  cannot  rei)resent  to  ourselves  the  class  man  by  any  equivalent 
notion  or  idea.  All  that  we  can  do  is  to  call  up  some  indiviilual 
image,  and  consider  it  as  representing,  though  inadequately  rep- 
resenting, the  generality.  This  we  easily  do,  for  as  we  can  call 
into  imagination  any  indiviilual,  so  we  can  make  that  individual 
image  stand  for  any  or  for  every  other  which  it  resembles,  in  those 
essential  points  which  constitute  the  identity  of  the  class.  This 
opinion,  which,  after  TTobbes,  has  been  in  this  country  maintained, 
among  others,  by  Berkeley,"  Hume,'  Adam  Smith, ^  C'anipltell,'  and 
Stewart,"  appears  to  me  not  only  true  but  self-evident. 

•1  Essay  on  Human  Understanding,  i.  b.  iv.  C.  •*  Dissertation  concerning  the  Jirst  Formation  of 

«.  vii.  4  9.  —  El).  iMn^iiagrs.  —  Ed. 

2  Principles  of  Human  Knowledge,  Iiitrod.  4  .  „,  ■■         i       ^  m        •     i       i    ••        -        c-^ 
.- "  '                    '           ■>  Philosophy  of  Rhetoric,  hook  n.  0.  I.  — F.D. 

3  Treatise  of  Human  Xature,  part  i.  sect.  vii.  "J  Elements,  part  ii.  0.  Iv.     Works,  rol.  ii.  p 
Works,  i.  p.  34.     Essay  on  the  Academical  PhUos-       173.  —  Ed. 

fpAy,  Works,  iv.  p.  184.  — Ed. 


478  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXV 

No  one  has  stated  tlie  case  of  the  nominalists  more  clearly  than 

Bishop  Berkeley,  and  as  his  whole  argument  is, 

The   doctrine   of       ^^  f^^  .^^  j^.  irrefragable,  I  beg  your  atten- 

Nominalism  as  stated  .  i       ^^1        ■ 

by  Berkeley.  ^^^^  *^  "16  following  extract  from  his  Introduc- 

tion to  the  Pi'inciples  of  Human  Knowledge.^ 
"  It  is  agreed,  on  all  hands,  that  the  qualities  or  modes  of  things 
do   never  really  exist   each  of  them  apart  by 

Berkeley  quoted.  •.      i^  i  ^     ^     r  i,  i  , 

itseli,  and  separated  from  all  others,  but  are 
mixed,  as  it  were,  and  blended  together,  several  in  the  same  object. 
But  we  are  told,  the  mind,  being  able  to  consider  each  quality 
singly,  or  abstracted  from  those  other  qualities  with  which  it  is 
united,  does  by  that  means  frame  to  itself  abstract  ideas.  For 
example,  there  is  perceived  by  sight  an  object  extended,  colored, 
and  moved  :  this  mixed  or  compound  idea  the  mind  resolving  into 
its  simple,  constituent  parts,  and  viewing  each  by  itself,  exclusive 
of  the  rest,  does  frame  the  abstract  ideas  of  extension,  color,  and 
motion.  Not  that  it  is  possible  for  color  or  motion  to  exist  with- 
out extension  ;  but  only  that  the  mind  can  frame  to  itself  by  ab- 
straction the  idea  of  color  exclusive  of  extension,  and  of  motion 
exclusive  of  both  color  and  extension. 

"  Again,  the  mind  having  observed  that  in  the  particular  exten- 
sions perceived  by  sense,  there  is  something  common  and  alike  in 
all,  and  some  other  things  peculiar,  as  this  or  that  figure  or  magni- 
tude, Avhich  distinguish  them  one  from  another ;  it  considers  apart 
or  singles  out  by  itself  that  which  is  common,  making  thereof  a 
most  abstract  idea  of  extension,  which  is  neither  line,  surface,  nor 
solid,  nor  has  any  figure  or  magnitude,  but  is  an  idea  entirely 
prescinded  from  all  these.  So  likewise  the  mind,  by  leaving  out 
of  the  particular  colors  perceived  by  sense,  that  which  distin- 
guishes them  one  from  another,  and  retaining  that  only  which  is 
common  to  all,  makes  an  idea  of  color  in  abstract  which  is  neither 
red,  nor  blue,  nor  white,  nor  any  other  determinate  color.  And 
in  like  manner,  by  considering  motion  abstractedly  not  only  from 
the  body  moved,  but  likewise  from  the  figure  it  describes,  and  all 
particular  directions  and  velocities,  the  abstract  idea  of  motion  is 
framed ;  which  equally  corresponds  to  all  particular  motions  what- 
soever that  may  be  perceived  by  sense. 

"Whether  others  have  this  wonderful  faculty  of  abstracting 
their  ideas,  they  best  can  tell :  for  myself  I  find,  indeed,  I  have 
a  faculty  of  imagining,  or  representing  to  myself  the  ideas  of  those 
particular  things  I  have  perceived,  and  of  Anriously  compounding 

1  Sections   vii.  viii.  x.      Workx,   i.   5   et  seq.,  4to  edit.     Cf.   Encyclopedia  Britannioa,  art 
Metaphysics,  vol.  xiv.  p.  622,  7th  edit.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XXXV.  METAPHYSICS.  479 

and  dividing  them.  I  can  imagine  a  man  with  two  heads,  or  the 
upper  parts  of  a  man  joined  to  the  body  of  a  horse.  I  can  con- 
sider the  liand,  the  eye,  tlie  nose,  each  by  itself  abstracted  or  sepa- 
rated from  the  rest  of  the  body.  But  then  whatever  liand  or  eye  I 
imagine,  it  must  have  some  particuhir  shape  and  color.  Likewise 
the  idea  of  man  that  I  frame  to  myself,  must  be  either  of  a  wliite, 
or  a  black,  or  a  tawny,  a  straight  or  a  crooked,  a  tall,  or  a  low,  or  a 
middle-sized  man.  I  cannot  by  any  effort  of  thought  conceive  the 
abstract  idea  above  described.  And  it  is  equally  impossible  for 
me  to  form  the  abstract  idea  of  motion  distinct  from  the  body 
moving,  and  which  is  neither  swift  nor  slow,  curvilinear  nor  recti- 
linear; and  the  like  may  be  said  of  all  other  abstract  general  ideas 
whatsoever.  ^  To  be  plain,  I  own  myself  able  to  abstract  in  one 
sense,  as  when  I  consider  some  particular  parts  or  qualities  sep- 
arated from  others,  with  which  though  they  are  united  in  some 
object,  yet  it  is  possible  they  may  really  exist  without  them.  But 
I  deny  that  I  can  abstract  one  from  another,  or  conceive  separately, 
those  qualities  which  it  is  impossible  should  exist  so  separated  : 
or  that  I  can  frame  a  general  notion  by  abstracting  from  particulars 
in  the  manner  aforesaid.  Which  two  last  are  the  proper  accep- 
tations of  abstraction.  And  there  are  grounds  to  think  most  men 
will  acknowledge  themselves  to  be  in  my  case.  The  generality  of 
men,  which  are  simple  and  illiterate,  never  pretend  to  abstract 
notions.  It  is  said  thev  are  difficult,  and  not  to  be  attained  with- 
out  pains  and  study.  We  may  therefore  reasonably  conclude  that^ 
if  such  there  be,  they  are  confined  only  to  the  learned." 

Such  is  the  doctrine  of  Nominalism,  as  asserted  by  Berkeley,  and 
as  subsequently  acquiesced  in  by  the  principal  philosophers  of  this 
country.  Reid  himself  is,  indeed,  liardly  an  exception,  for  his 
opinion  on  this  point  is,  to  say  the  least  of  it,  extremely  vague.'' 

The  counter-opinion,  that  of  Conceptualism,  as  it  is  called,  has, 

however,  been    supported   by  several    ]»hiloso- 

conceptuaiism.  ,^^^.^   ^^    distiniruished    ability.      Locke   main- 

Locke.  '  "  1   •  1 

tains  the  doctrine  in  its  most  revolting  ab- 
surdity, boldly  admitting  that  the  general  notion  must  he  realized, 
in  si)ite  of  tlie  principle  of  Contradiction.  ''Does  it  not  require,'* 
he  says,  "some  pains  and  skill  to  form  the  general  idea  of  a  tri- 
angle (which  is  yet  none  of  the  most  abstract,  comprehensive,  and 
difficult),  for  it  must  be  neither  obliijue  or  rectangle,  neither  equi- 
lateral, equicrural,  nor  scalenon  ;  but  all  and  none  of  these  .it  once. 

1  This  ur-uni(Mitation  is  employed  by  Dero-  2  For  Rcid's  opiuiou,  see  iMdUctual  Potmert, 

don,  Logico  [pars  ii.  c.  vi.  §  IC.     Opera,  p  236.      essay  v.,  chap.  ii.  and  vi.  -  Ed- 
~-Ed.],  and  others. 


480  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXV. 

In  effect,  it  is  something  imperfect,  that  cannot  exist ;  an  idea 
wherein  some  parts  of  several  different  and  inconsistent  ideas  are 
put  together."^ 

This  doctrine  was,  however,  too  palpably  absurd  to  obtain  any 
advocates ;  and  conceptualism,  could  it  not  find  a  firmer  basis,  be- 
hoved to  be  abandoned.  Passing  over  Dr.  Reid's  speculations  on 
the  question,  which  are,  as  I  have  said,  wavering  and  ambiguous,  I 
solicit  your  attention  to  the  principal  statement  and  defence  of 
<jonceptualism  by  Dr.  Brown,  in  whom  the  doctrine  has  obtained 
a  strenuous  advocate.     "If,  then,  the  generalizing  process  be,  first, 

the  percei>tion  or  conception  of   two  or  more 

Brown  quoted.  n  i  i      •  /»     t  n      i      • 

objects ;  secondly,  the  relative  leeling  oi  their 
resemblance  in  certain  respects ;  thirdly,  the  designation  of  these 
circumstances  of  resemblance,  by  an  appropriate  name,  —  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Nominalists,  which  includes  only  two  of  these  stages, 
—  the  perception  of  particular  objects,  and  the  invention  of 
general  terms,  must  be  false,  as  excluding  that  relative  suggestion 
of  resemblance  in  certain  respects,  which  is  the  second  and  most 
important  step  of  the  process ;  since  it  is  this  intermediate  feeling 
alone  that  leads  to  the  use  of  the  term,  which  otherwise  it  would 
be  impossible  to  limit  to  any  set  of  objects.  Accordingly,  we 
found  that,  in  their  impossibility  of  accounting,  on  their  own  prin- 
■ciples,  for  this  limitation,  which  it  is  yet  absolutely  necessary  to 
explain  in  some  manner  or  other,  —  the  Nominalists,  to  explain  it, 
uniformly  take  for  granted  the  existence  of  those  very  general 
notions,  which  they  at  the  same  time  jJi'ofess  to  deny, —  that,  while 
they  affirm  that  we  have  no  notion  of  a  kind,  species,  or  sort,  inde- 
pendently of  the  general  terms  which  denote  them,  they  speak  of 
our  application  of  such  terms  only  to  objects  of  the  same  kind, 
species,  or  sort ;  as  if  we  truly  had  some  notions  of  these  general 
circumstances  of  agreement  to  direct  us, —  and  that  they  are  thus 
very  far  from  being  Nominalists  in  tlie  spirit  of  their  argument,  at 
the  very  moment  when  they  are  Nominalists  in  assertion,  —  strenu- 
ous opposers  of  those  very  general  feelings,  of  the  truth  of  which 
they  avail  themselves,  in  their  very  endeavor  to  dis^^rove  them. 

"  If,  indeed,  it  were  the  name  which  formed  the  class,  and  not 
that  previous  relative  feeling,  or  general  notion  of  resemblance  of 
some  sort,  which  the  name  denotes,  then  might  anything  be  classed 
with  anything,  and  classed  with  equal  propriety.  All  which  would 
be  necessary,  would  be  merely  to  apply  the  same  name  uniformly 
to  the  same  objects;  and,  if  we  were  careful  to  do  this,  John  and  a 
triangle  might  as  well  be  classed   together,  under  the  name  man, 

1  See  above,  p.  477,  note  1 —  Ed. 


Lect.  XXXV.  METAPHYSICS.  481 

as  John  and  William.  Why  does  the  one  of  those  arrangements 
appear  to  us  more  philosophic  than  the  other?  It  is  because  some- 
thing more  is  felt  by  us  to  be  necessary  in  classification,  than  the 
mere  giving  of  a  name  at  random.  There  is,  in  the  relative  suo-- 
gestion  that  arises  on  our  very  perception  or  conception  of  objects, 
when  we  consider  them  together,  a  reason  for  giving  the  generic 
name  to  one  set  of  objects  rather  than  to  another,  —  the  name  of 
man,  for  instance,  to  John  and  William,  rather  than  to  John  and 
a  triangle.  This  reason  is  the  feeling  of  the  resemblance  of  the 
objects  which  we  class, — that  general  notion  of  the  relation  of 
similarity  in  certain  respects,  which  is  signified  by  the  general 
term, —  and  without  which  relative  suggestion,  as  a  previous  state 
of  the  mind,  the  general  term  would  as  little  have  been  invented, 
as  the  names  of  John  and  William  would  have  been  invented,  if 
there  had  been  no  perception  of  any  individual  being  whatever 
to  be  denoted  by  them."^ 

This  part  of  Dr.  Brown's  philosophy  has  obtained  the  most 
unmeasured  encomium;  it  has  been  lauded  as  the  most  important 
step  ever  made  in  the  philosophy  of  mind ;  and  as  far  as  I  am 
aware,  no  one  has  as  yet  made  any  attempt  at  refutation.  I  regret 
that  in  this,  as  in  many  other  principal  points  of  his  doctrine,  I  find 
it  imjiossible  not  to  dissent  from  Dr.  Brown.  An  adequate  refu- 
tation of  his  views  would,  indeed,  require  a  more  elaborate  criti- 
cism than  I  am  at  present  able  to  afford  them  ;  but  I  trust  that 
the  following  hasty  observations  will  be  sufficient  to  evince,  that 
the  doctrine  of  Nominalism  is  not  yet  overthrown. 

Dr.  Brown  has  taken  especial  care  that  his  theory  of  general, 
ization   should  not  be  misunderstood ;   for  the 

lirown'8     doctrine  ^  ^^        •  •      ,i  ^i  ^       r>      •  •      i 

.,.  .    ,  lollowmcr  is  the  seventh,  out  oi  nine  recapitula> 

criticized.  '^  '  ' 

tions,  he  has  given  us  of  it  in  his  forty-sixth 
and  forty-seventh  Lectures.  "  If  then  the  generalizing  process  be, 
first,  the  perception  or  conception  of  two  or  more  objects ;  secv 
ondly,  the  relative  feeling  of  their  resemblance  in  certain  respects ; 
thirdly,  the  designation  of  these  circumstances  of  resemblance  by 
an  appropriate  name,  the  doctrine  of  the  Nominalists,  which  in- 
cludes only  two  of  these  sfages,  —  the  perception  of  j)articu]ar 
objects,  and  the  invention  of  general  terms, —  must  be  false,  as 
excludinir  that  relative  su<re:estion  of  resemblance  in  certain  re- 
spects,  which  is  the  second  and  most  important  step  of  the  pro- 
cess; since  it  is  this  intermediate  feeling  alone  that  leads  to  the 
use  of  the  term,  which,  otherwise,  it  would  be  impossible  to  liimt 
to  any  set  of  objects." 

1  Philosophy  of  the  Human  MinJ,  lecture  xlvii.  p.  303.  —  Ed. 

61 


482  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXX\' 

This  contains,  in  fact,  both  the  whole  of  his  own  doctrine,  and 
the  whole  ground  of  his  rejection  of  that  of  the  Nominalists. 
Now,  upon  this,  I  would,  first  of  all,  say,  in  general,  that  what  in 
it  is  true  is  not  new.  But  I  hold  it  idle  to  prove,  that  his  doctrine 
is  old  and  common,  and  to  trace  it  to  authors  with  whom  Brown 
has  shown  his  acquaintance,  by  repeatedly  quoting  them  in  his 
Lectures;  it  is  enough  to  show  th.at  it  is  erroneous. 

The  first  point  I  shall  consider  is  his  confutation  of  the  Nt)mi- 
nalists.     In   the  passage   I  have  just  adduced, 

IS  con  u  a  ion  o        ^^^  .^  ^^^^  otliers,  lie  chargcs  the  Nominalists 

Noramalism.  '  /^ 

with  excluding  "the  relative  suggestion  of  re- 
semblance in  certain  respects,  which  is  the  second  and  most  im- 
portant step  in  the  process."  This,  I  admit,  is  a  weighty  accusa- 
tion, and  I  admit  at  once  that  if  it  do  not  prove  that  his  own 
doctrine  is  right,  it  would  at  least  demonstrate  theirs  to  be  sub- 
limely wrong.  But  is  the  charge  well  founded?  Dr.  Brown,  in  a 
passage  which  I  once  read  to  you,^  and  with  which  he  concludes 
his  supposed  exposition  of  what  he  calls  "  the  series  of  Reid's  won- 
derful misconceptions,"  wisely  warns  his  pupils  against  according 
credit  to  all  second-hand  statements.  "  I  trust,"  he  says,  "  it  will 
impress  you  with  one  important  lesson,  which  could  not  be  taught 
more  forcibly  than  by  the  errors  of  so  great  a  mind,  that  it  will 
always  be  necessary  for  you  to  consult  the  opinions  of  authors, 
when  their  opinions  are  of  sufiicient  importance  to  deserve  to  be 
accurately  studied,  in  their  own  works,  and  not  in  the  works  of 
those  who  profess  to  give  a  faithful  account  of  them.  From  my 
own  experience,  I  can  most  truly  assui-e  you,  that  there  is  scarcely 
an  instance  in  which,  on  examining  the  works  of  those  authors 
whom  it  is  the  custom  more  to  cite  than  to  read,  I  have  found 
the  view  which  I  had  received  of  them  faithful."  No  advice  as- 
suredly can  be  more  sound,  and  I  shall  accordingly  follow  it  now, 
as  I  have  heretofore  done,  in  application  to  his  own  reports.     Let 

us  see  whether  the  nominalists,  as  he  assures  us, 

I.  That  the  Nomi-       do  really  exclude  the   apprehension   of  resem- 

naiists  allow  the  ap-       blance  in  certain  respects,  as  one  step  in  their 

prehension  of  resem-       j^^^^^^g    ^f   generalization.       I    tum    first    to 

blance,  proved  against  o         ,  ^     ,  .  .    . 

Brown  by  reference       Hobbes  as  the  real  father  of  this  opmion,  —  to 
to  Hobbes.  him,  as  Leibnitz  truly  says,  "  noniinalibus  ipsis 

nominalioremr  The  classical  place  of  this  phi- 
losopher on  the  subject  is  the  fourth  chapter  of  the  Lev%athan\ 
and  there  we  have  the  following  passage  —  "One  universal  name 
is  imposed  on  many  things  for  their  similitude  in  some  quality  or 

1  See  above,  lect.  xxiii.  p.  312.— Ed. 


1 
I 

J 


Lbct.  XXXV.  METAPHYSICS.  483 

other  accident ;  and  whereas  a  proper  name  bringeth  to  mind  one 

thing  only,  universals  recall  any  one  of  those  many."     There  art 

other  passages  to  the  same  effect  in  Hobbes,  but  I  look  no  further. 

The  second  great  noniinalist  is  Berkeley;  and  to  him  the  doc^ 

trine  chiefly  owes  the  acceptation  it  latterly  ob- 

Berkeley.  .  .  .  .  . 

tained.  His  doctrine  on  the  subject  is  chiefly 
contained  in  the  Introduction  to  the  l^rinclples  of  Human  Knov:U 
edge,  sect.  7,  etc.,  and  in  the  seventh  Dialogue  of  the  Minute  Pld- 
losojiher,  sect.  5,  etc.  Out  of  many  similar  passages,  I  select  the 
two  following.  In  both  he  is  stating  his  own  doctrine  of  nominal- 
ism. In  the  Introduction,  sect.  22  :  "To  discern  the  agreements  or 
disagreements  that  are  between  my  ideas,  to  see  what  ideas  are  in- 
cluded in  any  compound  idea,  etc."  In  the  Minute  Philosop]t,er, 
sect.  7 :  "  But  may  not  words  become  general  by  being  made  to 
stand  indiscriminately  for  all  particular  ideas,  which,  from  a  mutual 
resemblance,  belong  to  the  same  kind,  without  the  intervention 
of  any  abstract  general  idea  ?  " 

I  next  take  down  Hume.     His  doctrine   on  the  point  at  Issue 
is  found  in  book  i.  part  i.  sect.  7  of  the  Treatise 

llumc. 

of  Human  JVciture,  entitled,  On  Abstract  Ideas. 
This  section  opens  with  the  following  sentence:  "A  great  ])hilos- 
opher  has  disputed  the  received  o])inion  in  this  particular,  and  has 
asserted  that  all  general  ideas  are  nothing  but  particular  ones  an- 
nexed to  a  certain  term,  which  gives  them  a  more  extensive  signifl- 
cation,  and  makes  them  recall  u]»on  occasion  other  individuals 
which  are  similar  to  them.  As  I  look  upon  this  to  be  one  of 
the  greatest  and  most  valuable  discoveries  that  has  been  made 
of  late  years  in  the  republic  of  letters,  I  shall  here  endeavor  to  con- 
firm it  by  some  arguments,  which  I  hope  Avill  put  it  beyond  all 
doubt  and  controversy."  In  glancing  over  the  subsequent  exposi- 
tion of  the  doctrine,  I  see  tlie  following  :  —  "  When  we  have  found 
a  resemblance  among  several  objects,  we  apply  the  same  name  to 
all  of  them,"  etc.  Again  :  —  "As  individuals  are  collected  together 
and  j)laced  imder  a  general  term,  with  a  view  to  that  resemblance 
which  they  bear  to  each  otlier,"  etc.  In  the  last  page  and  a  half  of 
the  section,  it  is  stated,  no  less  than  four  times  that  perceived  re- 
semblance is  the  foundation  of  classification. 

Adam  Smith's  doctrine  is  to  the  same  eflxjct  as  his  jjredecessor's. 
It  is  contained  in  his  Dissertation  concerning  the  F'irst  Formation 

of    J^anquaaes    (ai)i»endeil     lo    his     Tlirnru    of 

Adam   Smith.  '  c/       ./  V    I  I  •        '  . 

Moral  /Sentiments),  which  literally  is  lull  of 
statements  to  the  purport  of  the  following,  which  alone  I  adduce: 
"It  is  this  application  of  the  mmic  of  an  individual  to  a  great  num 


484  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXV 

ber  of  objects,  whose  reseinhlance  naturally  recalls  the  idea  of  that 
individual,  and  of  the  name  which  expresses  it,  that  seems  originally 
to  have  given  occasion  to  the  formation  of  these  classes  and  assort- 
ments, which  in  the  schools  are  called  genera  and  species^  and  of 
which  the  ingenious  and  eloquent  Rousseau  finds  himself  so  much 
at  a  loss  to  account  for  the  origin.  What  constitutes  a  species  is 
merely  a  number  of  objects,  bearing  a  certain  degree  of  resemblance 
to  one  another,  and  on  that  account  denominated  by  a  single  appel- 
lation, which  may  be  applied  to  express  any  one  of  them." 

The  assertion,  that  perceived  resemblance  is  the  principle  of  clas- 
sification, is  repeated  ad  nauseam  by  Principal 

Campbell.    Stewart.  ^  ,     „  ,    ,,      „  ^ 

Campbell  and  Mr.  Stewart.  I  shall  quote  only 
from  the  latter,  and  I  take  the  first  passage  that  strikes  my  eye : 
"According  to  this  view  of  the  process  of  the  mind,  in  carrying  on 
general  speculations,  that  idea  which  the  ancient  philosophers  con- 
sidered as  the  essence  of  an  individual,  is  nothing  more  than  the 
particular  quality  or  qualities  in  which  it  resembles  other  individuals 
of  the  same  class ;  and  in  consequence  of  which  a  generic  name  is 
applied  to  it."  ^ 

From  the  evidence  I  have  already  quoted,  you  will  see  how  mar- 
vellously wrong  is  Brown's  assertion,  that  the  nominalists  not  only 
took  no  account  of,  but  absolutely  excluded  from  their  statement  of 
the  process  of  generalization,  the  apprehension  of  the  mutual  simi- 
larity of  objects.  You  will,  therefore,  not  be  surprised  when  I 
assure  you,  that  not  only  no  nominalist  ever  overlooked,  ever 
excluded,  the  manifested  resemblance  of  objects  to  each  other,  but 
that  every  nominalist  explicitly  founded  his  doctrine  of  classification 
on  this  resemblance,  and  on  this  resemblance  alone.  "  Xo  nomi- 
nalist ever  dreamt  of  disallowing  the  notion  of  relativity,  —  the 
conception  of  similarity  between  things,  —  this  they  maintain  not 
less  strenuously  than  the  conceptionalist ;  they  only  deny  that  this 
could  ever  constitute  a  general  notion. 

But  perhaps  it  may  be  admitted,  that  Brown  is  wrong  in  asserting 

that  the  nominalist  excludes  resemblance  as  an 

rown       element  of  cjeneralization,  and   yet  maintained, 

•wrong  in  holding  that  ^  '  ^ 

the  feeling  (notion)  of  that  he  is  right  in  holding,  against  the  nomi- 
simiiitude  is  general,  nalists,  that  the  uotion,  Or,  as  he  has  it,  the  feel- 
and    constitutes    the       j^^g  ^f  ^j^^  similitude  of  objects   in  certain   re- 

ffeneral  notion, —  .  ,  -  .  i  •  n     i 

proved  by  the  follow-  sp^cts,  IS  general,  and  constitutes  what  is  called 
ing  axioms.  the  general  notion.     I  am  afraid,  however,  that 

the  misconception  in  regard  to- this  point  will  be 
found  not  inferior  to  that  in  regard  to  the  other. 

1  'EUmint!..  vol.  i.  c.  iv.  sect.  ii.     Worki^  vol.  2  [See  Tellez,  Summa  Phil.  Vniverteg,  [vol.  i 

ii.  p.  176.  p.  i.  disp.  iv.  sect.  i.  subs.  8 — 16,  p.  49,  et  »<j« 


J.KCT.  XXXV.  METAPHYSICS.  485 

In  the  first  place,  then,  resemblance  is  a  relation  ;  and  a  relation 

necessarily  supposes  certain  objects  as  related 
1.  Notion  of  similar-       ^^^^^^g^     f,^^.|.^^  ^^^  ^j^^^^  y^^  ^^  relation  of  resem- 

ity  supposes  notion  of        .  ,  .  . 

certain  similar  objects.       blance  conceived,  apart  from  certain  resembhng 

objects.  This  is  so  manifest,  that  a  formal  enu- 
meration of  the  principle  seems  almost  puerile.  Let  it,  however, 
be  laid  down  as  a  first  axiom,  that  the  notion  of  similarity  su[)poseB 
the  notion  of  certain  similar  objects. 

In   the  second  place,  objects  cannot  be    similar  without    being 
similar  in  some  particular  mode  or  accident, — 

2  Similar  objects  are  -^^    ^^|^,,.^    j^^     ^^^^^^.^^    j^^     ^-^^^^    j^^    Weiirht,    in 

similar  in  some  partic-  ,,    •      ,,    •  ,•         .     ',.,.  mi-     •     "  n 

uiarmode.  Smell,  in  tiuKlity,  111  lite,  etc.,  etc.     Ihis  is  equally 

evident,  and  this  I  lay  down  as  a  second  axiom. 

In  the  third  place,  I  assume,  as  a  third  axiom,  that  a  resemblance 

is  not  necessarily  and  of  itself  universal.     On  the 

3.    A    resemblance  ,  ii  ■,     ,  ^  -t-ii 

contrary,  a  resemblance  between  two  individual 

not    necessarily    uni-  .  . 

versai.  objccts  in  a  determinate  quality,  is  as  individual 

and  determinate  as  the  objects  and  their  resem- 
bling qualities  themselves.  Who,  for  example,  will  maintain  that 
my  actual  notion  of  the  likeness  of  a  particular  snowball  and  a  par- 
ticular egg,  is  more  general  than  the  representations  of  the  several 
objects  and  their  resembling  accidents  of  color? 

Now  let  us  try  Dr.  Brown's  theory  on  these  grounds.     In  refer- 
ence to  the  first,  he  does  not  pretend  that  what 

Brown's  theory  test-         ,  n     ...i.  i    ^     i-  ^  i  i 

. .    ,.  .  he  calls  the  general  leeling  oi  resemblance,  can 

ed  by  these  axioms.  _  ... 

exist  except  between  individual  objects  and  indi- 
vidual representations.  The  universality,  which  he  arrogates  to  this 
feeling,  cannot  accrue  to  it  from  any  universality  in  the  relative  or 
resembling  ideas.  This  neither  he  nor  any  other  philosopher  ever 
did  or  could  pretend.  They  are  supposed,  ex  hypothesis  to  be 
individual,  —  singular. 

Neither,  in  reference  to  the  second  axiom,  does  he  pretend  to 
derive  the  universality  which  he  asserts  to  his  feeling  of  resemblance 
from  the  universality  of  the  notion  of  the  common  quality,  in  wliioh 
this  resemblance  is  realized.  He  does  not,  with  Locke  and  others, 
maintain  this;  on  the  contrary,  it  is  on  the  adniitte<l  absurdity  of 
such  a  foundation  that  he  attempts  to  establish  the  doctrine  of  con- 
ceptualism  on  another  ground. 

But  if  the  universality,  assumed  by  Dr.  Brown  for  his  "feeling  of 

(edit.  1644).    Cf  sect.  ii.  subs.  i.  ft  sk/.,  p.  65.  Ed.]    Moiidoza,  Oi.v-  l^s  ['!■  ili.  »  1.  Dhp.  <t 

—  Ed]     Dero<ion,    iMeifa,  [p.  ii.  c.  v.  art.  2,  Summuli.i   ail    Mrtnphyskam,   vol.    i.    p.    24S.] 

♦  5,  p.  211.      Cf.  art.  4,  p.  224  tt  scq.  —  Kd.]  Fran.    Bona;   .Spei,   Logica,   [De   Porphyrtanu 

Arriaga,  Logica,  (disp.  vi.  sect.  i.  subs.  i.  et  Univtrsalibus,   di.«p.    i.,    Commentarii  im  ■AriM 

seq.,  Cur,u3  P/iilosoi>hicu.t.  p.  110  (edit.  1G32)  —  Phil,  p  53.  (edit.  Itw2  )  — Eb] 


486  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXV. 

resemblance,"  be  found  neither  in  the  resembling  objects,  nor  in  the 
qualities  through  which  they  are  similar,  we  must  look  for  it  in  the 
feeling  of  resemblance  itself,  apart  from  its  actual  realization;  and 
this  in  opposition  to  the  third  axiom  we  laid  down  as  self-evident. 
In  these  circumstances,  we  have  certainly  a  right  to  expect  that  Dr. 
BroAvn  should  have  brought  us  cogent  proof  for  an  assertion  so  con- 
trary to  all  apparent  evidence,  that  although  this  be  the  question 
which  perhaps  has  been  more  ably,  keenly,  and  universally  agitated 
than  any  other,  still  no  philosopher  before  himself  was  found  even 
to  imagine  such  a  possibility.  But  in  proof  of  this  new  paradox. 
Dr.  Brown  has  not  only  brought  no  evidence ;  he  does  not  even 
attempt  to  bring  any.  He  assumes  and  he  asserts,  but  he  hazards 
no  argument.  In  this  state  of  matters,  it  is  perhaps  sujierfluous  to 
do  more  than  to  rebut  assertion  by  assertion ;  and  as  Dr.  Brown  is 
not  in  possessorio,  and  as  his  opinion  is  even  opposed  to  the  uni- 
versal consent  of  philosophers,  the  counter  assertion,  if  not  over- 
turned by  reasoning,  must  prevail. 

But  let  us  endeavor  to  conceive  on  what  grounds  it  could  jiossibly 

be  supposed  by  Dr.  Brown,  that  the  feeling  of 

Possible  grounds  of      resemblance   between    certain    objects,  through 

Brown's     supposition  ,•  ■,  ■,.  ,.^.        ,         ...  ,.  ^ 

that  the  feeling  of  re-  ^ertam  reseuiblmg  qualities,  has  in  it  anything  of 
semblance  is  universal.  Universal,  or  Can,  as  he  says,  constitute  the  gen- 
eral notion.  This  to  me  is  indeed  not  easy;  and 
every  hypothesis  I  can  make  is  so  absurd,  that  it  appears  almost  a 
libel  to  attribute  it,  even  by  conjecture,  to  so  ingenious  and  acute  a 
thinker. 

In  the  first  place,  can  it  be  supposed  that  Dr.  Brown  believed  that 

a  feeling  of  resemblance  between  objects  in  a 
First.  ...  '' 

certain  quality  or  respect  was  general  because  it 

was  a  relation  ?     Then  must  every  notion  of  a  relation  be  a  general 

notioq  ;  which  neither  he  nor  any  other  philosopher  ever  asserts. 

In  the  second  place,  does  he  suppose  that  there  is  anything  in  the 

feeling  or  notion  of  the  particular  relation  called 

Second.  .         '-    .  ,  .   ,    . 

srm.i/ariti/,  which  is  more  general  than  the  feel- 
ing or  notion  of  any  other  relation  V  This  can  hardly  be  conceived. 
What  is  a  feeling  or  notion  of  resemblance  ?  Merely  this ;  two 
objects  affect  us  in  a  certain  manner,  and  we  are  conscious  that  they 
affect  us  in  the  same  way  that  a  single  object  does,  when  presented 
at  different  times  to  our  perception.  In  either  case,  we  judge  that 
the  affections  of  which  we  are  conscious  are  similar  or  the'  same. 
There  is  nothing  general  in  this  consciousness,  or  in  this  judgment. 
At  all  events,  the  relation  recognized  between  the  consciousness  of 
similarity  produced  on  us  by  two  different  eggs,  is  not  more  general 


Lect.  XXXV.  METAPHYSICS.  487 

than  the  feeling  of  similarity  produced  on  us  by  the  successive  pre- 
sentation of  the  same  e^s:.  If  the  one  is  to  be  called  jjeneral,  so  is 
the  other.  Again,  if  the  feeling  or  notion  of  resemblance  be  made 
general,  so  must  the  feeling  or  notion  of  difference.  They  are 
absolutely  the  same  notion,  only  in  different  a])plications.  You 
know  the  logical  axiom,  —  the  science  of  contraries  is  one.  Wo 
know  the  like  only  as  we  know  tlie  unlike.  Every  aihrmation  of 
similarity  is  virtually  an  affirmation  that  difference  does  not  exist; 
every  affirmation  of  difference  is  virtually  an  affirmation  that  sim- 
ilarity is  not  to  be  found.  But  neither  Brown  nor  any  other  ])hi- 
losopher  has  pretended,  that  the  apprehension  of  difference  is  either 
general,  or  a  ground  of  generalization.  On  the  contrary,  the  appre- 
hension of  difference  is  the  negation  of  generalization,  and  a  descent 
from  the  universal  to  the  particular.  But  if  the  notion  or  feeling 
of  the  dissimilarity  is  not  general,  neither  is  the  feeling  or  notion 
of  the  similarity. 

In  the  tliird  place,  can  it  be  that  Dr.  Brown  supposes  the  partic- 
ular feeling  or  consciousness  of  similarity  be- 
tween  certain  objects  in  certani  respects  to  be 
genera],  because  we  have,  in  general,  a  capacity  of  feeling  or  being 
conscious  of  similarity  ?  This  conjecture  is  equally  improbable.  On 
this  ground  every  act  of  every  power  would  be  general ;  and  we 
should  not  be  obliged  to  leave  Imatrination,  in  order  to  seek  for  the 
universality  which  we  cannot  discover  in  the  light  and  definitude 
of  that  faculty,  in  the  obscurity  and  vagueness  of  another. 

In  the  fourth  i)lace,  only  one  other  supposition  remains ;  and  this 
may  perhaps  enable  us  to  explain  the  possibility 
of  Dr.  Brown's  hallucination.  A  relation  cannot 
be  represented  in  Imagination.  The  two  terms,  the  two  relative 
objects,  can  be  severally  imaged  in  the  sensible  phantasy,  but  not 
the  relation  itself  This  is  the  object  of  the  Comj^arative  F^^culty, 
or  of  Intelligence  Proper.  To  objects  so  different  as  the  images  of 
sense  and  the  unpicturable  notions  of  intelligence,  different  names 
ought  to  be  given  ;  an<l  accordingly  this  has  been  done  wherever  a 
philosophical  nrjfnenclature  of  the  slightest  pretensions  to  perfection 
has  been  formed.  In  the  German  language,  which  is  now  the  ridiest 
in  metaphysical  ex])ressions  of  any  living  tongue,  the  two  kinds  of 
objects  are  carefully  distinguished.'  In  our  language,  on  the  con- 
trary, the  idea.,  coficepfion,  iiotion,  are  used  almost  as  convertible 
for  either;  and  the  vagueness  and  confusion  which  is  thus  produced, 
even  within  the  narrow  sphere  of  speculation  to  whicli  the  want  of 

1  See  Reitrs  Works,  p.  407,  nolo  X.  and  412,  note.  —  Ed. 


488  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXV. 

the  distinction  also  confines  us,  can  be  best  appreciatetl  by  those 
who  are  conversant  with  tlie  philosophy  of  the  different  countries. 

Dr.  Brown  seems  to  have  had  some  faint  perception  of  the  differ- 
ence between  intellectual  notions  and  sensible  representations ;  and 
if  he  had  endeavored  to  signalize  their  contrast  by  a  distinction  of 
terms,  he  would  have  deserved  well  of  English  philosophy.  But  he 
mistook  the  nature  of  the  intellectual  notion,  which  connects  two 
pai-ticular  qualities  by  the  bond  of  similarity,  and  imagined  that 
there  lurked  under  this  intangible  relation  the  universality  which, 
he  clearly  saw,  could  not  be  found  in  a  representation  of  the  related 
objects,  or  of  their  resembling  qualities.  At  least,  if  this  do  not 
assist  us  in  accounting  for  his  misconception,  I  do  not  know  in  what 
way  we  otherwise  can. 

What  I  have  now  said  is,  I  think,  suflScient  in  regard  to  the  nature 

of  Generalization.     It  is  notoriously  a  mere  act 

Summary  of  the  Au-       ^f  Comparison.     We  com.pare  objects;  we  find 

thor's  doctrine  of  Gen-  ,  .      .,        .  J  ' 

eraiization.  them  Similar  m  certain  respects,  that  is,  in  cer- 

tain respects  they  affect  us  in  the  same  manner ;, 
we  consider  the  qualities  in  them,  that  thus  affect  us  in  the  same 
manner,  as  the  same  ;  and  to  this  common  quality  we  give  a  name  ; 
and  as  we  can  predicate  this  name  of  all  and  each  of  the  resembling 
objects,  it  constitutes  them  into  a  class.  Aristotle  has  truly  said 
that  general  names  are  only  abbreviated  definitions,  ^  and  definitions, 
you  know,  are  judgments.  For  example,  animal  is  only  a  compen- 
dious expression  for  organized  and  animated  body ;  man^  only  a 
summary  of  rational  animal^  etc. 

1  Kktt.  iii.  6.  -  Ed 


I 


LECTURE     XXXVI. 

THE  ELABORATIVE   FACULTY.— GENERALIZATION.— THE 

PRIMUM  COGNITUM. 

We  were  principally  employed,  in  onr  last  Lecture,  in  considering 
Dr.  Brown's  doctrine  of  Generalization ;  and,  in 
doing  this,  I  first  discussed  his  refutation  of 
Nominalism,  and,  secondly,  his  own  theory  of  Conceptualism.  In 
reference  to  the  former,  I  showed  you  that  the  ground  on  which  he 
attempts  to  refute  the  Nominalists,  is  only  an  inconceivable  mistake 
of  his  own.  He  rejects  their  doctrine  as  incomplete,  because,  he  says, 
they  take  no  account  of  the  mutual  resemblance  of  the  classified 
objects.  But  so  far  are  the  nominalists  from  taking  no  account  of 
the  mutual  resemblance  of  the  classified  objects,  that  their  doctrine 
is  notoriously  founded  on  the  apprehension  of  this  similarity,  and 
on  the  apprehension  of  this  similarity  alone.  How  Dr.  Brown  could 
have  run  into  this  radical  misrepresentation  of  so  celebrated  an 
opinion,  is,  I  repeat,  wholly  inconceivable.  Having  ])roved  to  you 
by  the  authentic  testimony  of  the  British  nominalists  of  principal 
celebrity,  that  Dr.  Brown  had  in  his  statement  of  their  doctrine 
simply  reversed  it,  I  proceeded,  in  the  second  place,  to  test  th« 
accuracy  of  his  own.  Dr.  Brown  repudiates  the  doctrine  of  Con- 
'•eptualism  as  held  by  Locke  and  others.  He  admits  that  we  can 
'epresent  to  ourselves  no  general  notion  of  the  common  attribute 
')r  attributes  which  constitute  a  class ;  but  he  asserts  that  the  gen- 
erality, which  cannot  be  realized  in  a  notion  of  the  resembling 
•ittribute,  is  realized  in  a  notion  of  the  resemblance  itself  Tliis 
theory,  I  emleavored  to  make  it  evident,  was  altogether  groundless. 
In  the  first  place,  the  doctrine  sujtposes  that  the  notion,  or,  as  he 
calls  it,  the  feeling,  of  the  mutual  resemblance  of  particular  objects 
in  particular  res]>ects,  is  general.  This,  tlie  very  foundation  of  hitf 
theory,  is  not  self-cvidently  true ;  —  on  the  contrary,  it  stands  ob- 
trusively, sclf-evidently,  false.  It  was  |iriiiiarily  iiuMunbent  on  Dr. 
Brown  to  )»rove  the  reality  of  tliis  li:isis.  I5ul  he  makes  not  even 
an  attempt  at  this.      He   assumes   all   that  is  in   <.juestioii.     To  the 

t;2 


490  METAPHYSICS  Lect.  XXXVl 

noun-substantive,  "feeling  of  resemblance,"  he  prefixes  the  adjeC' 
tive,  "general;"  but  he  does  not  condescend  to  evince  that  the 
verbal  collocations  have  any  real  connection. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  as  it  is  not  proved  by  Dr.  Brown,  that 
our  notion  of  the  similarity  of  certain  things  in  certain  respects  is 
general,  so  it  can  easily  be  shown  against  him  that  it  is  not. 

The  generality  cannot  be  found  in  the  relation  of  resemblance, 
apart  from  all  resembling  objects,  and  all  circumstances  of  resem- 
blance; for  a  resemblance  only  exists,  and  is  only  conceived,  as 
between  determinate  objects,  and  in  determinate  attributes.^  This 
is  not  denied  by  Dr.  Brown.  On  the  contrary,  he  arrogates  gen- 
■erality  to  what  he  calls  the  "feeling  of  similarity  of  certain  objects 
in  certain  respects."  These  are  the  expressions  he  usually  employs. 
So  far,  therefore,  all  is  manifest,  all  is  admitted ;  a  resemblance  is 
only  conceived,  is  only  conceivable,  as  between  particular  objects, 
in  particular  qualities.  Apart  from  these,  resemblance  is  not  as- 
serted to  be  thinkable.  This  being  understood,  it  is  apparent,  that 
the  notion  of  the  resemblance  of  certain  objects  in  a  certain  attri- 
bute, is  just  the  notion  of  that  attribute  itself;  and  if  it  be  impossi- 
ble, as  Brown  admits,  to  conceive  that  attribute  generally,  in  other 
words,  to  have  a  general  notion  of  it,  it  is  impossible  to  have  a  gen- 
eral notion  of  the  resemblance  Avhich  it  constitutes.  For  example, 
we  have  a  perception  oi-  imagination  of  two  figures  resembling  each 
other,  in  having  three  angles.  Xow  here  it  is  admitted,  that  if  either 
the  figures  themselves  be  removed,  or  the  attribute  belonging  to 
each  (of  three  angles)  be  thrown  out  of  account,  the  notion  of  any 
resemblance  is  annihilated.  It  is  also  admitted,  that  the  notion  of  re- 
semblance is  realized  through  the  notion  of  triangularity.  In  this 
all  philosophers  are  at  one.  All  likewise  agree  that  the  notion  of 
similarity,  and  the  notion  of  generality,  are  the  same  ;  though 
Brown,  as  we  have  seen,  has  misrepresented  the  doctrine  of  Nom- 
inalism on  this  point.  But  though  all  maintain  that  things  are 
conceived  similar  only  as  conceived  similar  in  some  quality,  and 
that  their  similarity  in  this  quality  alone  constitutes  them  into 
a  class,  they  diifer  in  regard  to  their  ulterior  explanation.  Let  us 
suppose  that,  of  our  two  figures,  the  one  is  a  rectangled,  and  the 
other  an  equilateral,  triangle  ;  and  let  us  hear,  on  this  simple  ex- 
ample, how  the  different  theorists  explain  themselves.  The  nom- 
inalists say,  —  you  can  imagine  a  rectangular  triangle  alone,  and  an 
equilateral  triangle  alone,  or  you  can  imagine  both  at  once ;  and, 
«n  this  case,  in  the  consciousness  of  their  similarity,  you  may  view 

1  If  generality  in  relation  of  resemblance      then  only  one  general  notion  at  all.  —  Mar' 
•part  from  particular  objects  and  qualities,     ginai  Jotting. 


Lect.  XXXVI.  METAPHYSICS.  491 

either  as  the  inadequate  representative  of  both.  But  you  c:annot 
imagine  a  figure  which  shall  adequately  represent  botli  qua  tri- 
angle ;  that  is,  you  cannot  imagine  a  triangle  which  is  neither 
an  equilateral  nor  a  rectangjed  triangle,  and  yet  both  at  once. 
And  as  on  our  (the  nominalist)  doctrine,  the  similarity  is  only 
embodied  in  an  individual  notion,  having  relation  to  another,  there 
is  no  general  notion  properly  speaking  at  all. 

The  older  Conceptualists,  on  the  other  hand,  assert  that  it  i.* 
possible  to  conceive  a  triangle  neither  equilateral  nor  rectangular, 
—  but  both  at  once.  Dr.  Brown  diiFers  from  nominalists  and  older 
conceptualists  ;  he  coincides  with  the  nominalists  in  rejecting  as 
absurd  the  hypothesis  of  the  conceptualists,  but  he  coincides  with 
the  conceptualists  in  holding,  that  there  is  a  general  notion  ade- 
quate to  the  term  triangle.  This  general  notion  he  does  not, 
however,  jilace,  with  the  conce])tualist,  in  any  general  represen- 
tation of  the  attribute  triangle,  but  in  the  notion  or  feeling  of  re- 
semblance between  the  individual  representations  of  an  equilateral 
and  of  a  rectangled  triangle.  This  opinion  is,  however,  untenable. 
In  the  first  place,  there  is  here  no  generalization  ;  for  Avhat  is  called 
the  common  notion  can  only  be  realized  in  thought  through  notions 
of  all  the  several  objects  which  are  to  be  classified.  Thus,  in  our 
example,  the  notion  of  the  similarity  of  the  two  figures,  in  be- 
ing each  triangular,  suj>]»oses  the  actual  perception  or  imagina- 
tion of  both  together.  Take  out  of  actual  perception,  or  actual 
representation,  one  or  both  of  the.  triangles,  and  no  similarity,  that  is, 
no  general  notion  remains.  Thus,  u]»on  Dr.  Brown's  doctrine,  the 
general  notion  onlv  exists  in  so  far  as  the  individual  notions,  from 
Avhich  it  is  generalized,  are  ])resent,  that  is,  in  so  far  as  there  is  no 
generalization  at  all.  This  is  because  resemblance  is  a  relation  ;  but 
a  relation  suj>poses  two  particular  objects;  and  a  relation  between 
])arti(nilar  olijects  is  just  as  particular  as  the  objects  themselves. 

But  let  us  consider  his  doctrine  in  anotlicr  ])oint  of  view.     In  the 

example  we  have  taken  of  the  equilateral  and 

i-.nm-,,-.  .i,.ctrim- of       rectangular    tiiimgles,  triangularity  is  an    attri- 

ppi.enil  notions,  — lui-  \  '    .  ... 

tlRT  considered.  ''"^*'  "^   .'acli,  and    III   each   tlu'   conceived   trian- 

gularity is  a  particular,  not  a  general,  notion. 
Now  the  reseml>lanc(>  between  these  figures  lies  in  their  trian- 
gularity, and  the  notion  or  feeling  of  resemblance  in  wliich  Dr. 
Brown  places  the  geneiality,  must  be  a  notion  or  feeling  of  tri- 
angularity.—  triangularity  must  constitute  tlieir  resenibl.inee.  This 
is  manifest.  For  if  it  Ix'  not  a  TU)tion  of  triangularity,  it  must 
be  a  notion  of  something  el.se,  and  if  a  notion  of  something  else, 
it   cannot  be  a  general   notion    of  two   figures   as   triangles.      The 


492  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXX YI. 

notion  of  resemblance  between  the  figures  in  question  must,  there- 
fore, be  a  notion  of  triangularity.  Now  the  triangularity  thus  con- 
ceived must  be  one  notion,  —  one  triangularity;  for  otherwise  it 
could  not  be  (what  is  sup})osed)  one  common  or  general  notion,  but 
a  l)Iurality  of  notions.  Again,  this  one  triangularity  must  not  be  the 
triangularity,  either  of  the  equilateral  triangle,  or  of  the  rectangular 
triangle  alone ;  for,  in  that  case,  it  would  not  be  a  general  notion, 
—  a  notion  common  to  both.  But  if  it  cannot  be  the  triangularity 
of  either,  it  must  be  the  triangularity  of  both.  Of  such  a  triangu- 
larity, hoAvever,  it  is  impossible  to  form  a  notion,  as  Dr.  Bro-svn 
admits  ;  for  triangularity  must  be  either  rectangular  or  not  rec- 
tangular ;  but  as  these  are  contradictory  or  exclusive  attributes, 
Ave  cannot  conceive  them  together  in  the  same  notion,  nor  can 
we  form  a  notion  of  triangularity  except  as  the  one  or  the  other. 

This  being  the  case,  the  notion  or  feeling  of  similarity  between 
the  two  triangles  cannot  be  a  notion  or  feeling  of  triangularity  at 
all.  But  if  it  be  not  this,  what  can  it  otherwise  possibly  be  ?  There 
is  only  one  conceivable  alternative.  As  a  general  notion,  contain- 
ing under  it  particular  notions,  it  must  be  given  up,  but  it  may 
be  regarded  as  a  particular  relation  between  the  particular  figures,, 
and  which  supposes  them  to  be  represented,  as  the  condition  of 
being  itself  not  represented,  but  conceived.  And  thus,  by  a  dif- 
ferent route,  Ave  arrive  again  at  the  same  conclusion,  —  that  Dr. 
BroAvn  has  mistaken  a  j^articular,  an  individual,  relation  for  a  gen- 
eral notion.  He  clearly  saAV  that  all  that  is  picturable  in  imagi- 
nation, is  determinate  and  individual;  he,  therefoi-e,  avoided  the 
absurdity  involved  in  the  doctrine  of  the  old  conceptualists ;  but 
he  was  not  warranted  (if  this  were,  indeed,  the  ground  of  his  as- 
sumption) in  assuming,  that  because  a  notion  cannot  be  jaictured 
in  imagination,  it  is,  therefore,  general. 

Instead  of  recapitulating  Avhat  I  stated  in  opposition  to  Dr. 
Bi-oAvn's  vicAvs  in  my  last  Lecture,  I  have  been  led  into  a  new  line 
of  argument;  for,  in  fict,  his  doctrine  is  open  to  so  many  objec- 
tions that,  on  what  side  soever  Ave  regard  it,  ai-gument  Avill  not  be 
Avanting  for  its  refutation.  So  far,  thei'efore,  from  Nominalism  be- 
ing confuted  by  BroAvn,  it  is  i)lain  that,  apart  from  the  miscon- 
ception he  has  committed,  he  is  himself  a  nominalist. 

„,  ,.  I    proceed    noAv  to  a  A'ery  curious    question, 

Ine      question, —  _    '  _  .  •'      ^  i  _ 

Does  Language  origi-  Avhich  has  likcAvisc  divided  philosophers.  It  is 
nate  in  General  Appei-  this,  —  Docs  Language  Originate  in  General  Ap- 
latives  or  by  Proper       peHativcs,  or  by  Proper  Names?     Did  mankind 

Names,  —  considered.  ;  .      •      ^  ,  •■  i 

in  the  formation  of  language,  and  do  children 
in  their  first  applications  of  it,  commence  Avith  the  one  kind  of  words 


Lect.  XXXVI.  METAPHYSICS.  493 

or  with  tlie  other?  The  determination  of  this  question,. —  the 
question  of  the  Primum  CognUum,  as  it  was  called  in  the  schools, 
is  not  involved  in  the  doctrine  of  Nominalism.  Many  illustrious 
philosophers  have  maintained  that  all  terms,  as  at  first  employed, 
are  expressive  of  individual  objects,  and  that  these  only  subse- 
quently obtain  a  general  accei>tation. 

This  opinion  I  find  maintained  by  Vives,^  Locke,^  Rousseau,'  Con 
dillac,''  Adam  Smith,''  Strinbart,*'  Tittel,^  Brown,^ 

1.  That  all  terms,       and  others.^     "The  order  of  learning"  (I  trans- 
fts  first  employed,  ex-       ^^Xe   from  Vivcs)  "  is   from   the  senses  to   the 

pressive  of  individual  .  .  .  ,     „  ^^i-       .       ^i         •     .    n       ^ 

\^.   .  ■  ^  .    A       imaerination,  and  irom  this  to  the   intellect, — 

objects,  —  maintaiued  *  '  J 

fcy  Vives  and  others.         such  is  the  order  of  life   and   of  nature.     We 

thus  proceed  from  the  simple  to  the  complex, 
from  the  singular  to  the  universal.  This  is  to  be  observed  in  chil- 
dren who  first  of  all  express  the  several  parts  of  diflEerent  things,  and 
then  conjoin  them.  Things  general  they  call  by  a  singular  name  ; 
for  instance,  they  call  all  smiths  by  the  name  of  that  individual 
smith  whom  they  have  first  known,  and  all  meats,  heef  or  2^ork^  as 
they  have  happened  to  have  heard  the  one  or  the  other  first,  when 
they  begin  to  speak.  Thereafter  the  mind  collects  universals  from 
])articulars,  and  then  again  reverts  to  particulars  from  universals." 
The  same  doctrine,  without  j^robably  any  knowledge  of  Vives,  is 

maintained  by  Locke.^"  "  There  is  nothing  more 
evident  than  that  the  ideas  of  the  persons  chil- 
dren converse  with  (to  instance  in  them  alone),  are  like  the  persons 
themselves,  only  particular.  The  ideas  of  the  nurse  and  the  mother 
ar.'  well  framed  in  their  minds;  and,  like  pictures  of  them  there, 
represent  only  those  individuals.  The  names  they  first  gave  to 
them  are  confineil  to  these  individuals;  and  the  names  of  nurse  and 
nuimma,  the  child  uses,  determine  themselves  to  those  persons. 
Afterwards,  when  time  and  a  larger  acquaintance  have  made  them 
observe  that  there  are  a  great  many  other  things  in  the  world,  that 
in  some  common  agreements  of  shape,  and  several  other  qualities, 
resemble  their  father  and  mother,  and  those  persons  they  have  been 
Tised  to,  tlicy  fi-ame  an  idea  which  they  find  those  many  ]iarticulai-s 
do  partake  in ;  and  to  that  they  give,  with  others,  the  name  >;<«», 


1  De    Anima,   lib.   ii.      De   Dixcenrh    tinlione,  <' [Anlfituiu; clfS  Versian/les,  ^  45.   Cf.  }  P3-80.; 
Op€ra,  vol.  ii   p.  530,  Kasilea",  1556. —  Ed.  7  [Erlduterungeri  der  Philo.iophie.]    [Logilc,  y. 

2  See  below,  p.  494.  —  Ed.  214,  et  seq.  (edit.  179.3).  —  Ed.] 

3  [.See  Toussuint,  Dc  la  Pensef,  c.  x.  p.  278—  «  See  below,  p.  494.  — Ed. 

79.]     Dhcours  sur  rOrie;ine  rie  VInegalild  parmi-  9  Cf.  Toletus,  7;i  Phy^i.  Arint.Mh.  i.e.  i.  t.  .'*. 

ks  Hnmmc.f,  (Eitvrfs,  t.i.  j).  268,  ed.  1826.  —  Ed.  q.  5,  f  106.     Couimbricense.-*,  Ibid.  lib.  i.  c. 

4  See  below,  p.  494.  —  Ed.  q.  3,  art  2,  p.  79;  and  q.  4,  art.  2,  p.  89.  — Ei» 
fi  See  below,  \).  494.  —  Ed  W  Esiay.  iii.  3,  7.  —  Ed 


494  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVI 

for  example.  And  thus  they  come  to  have  a  general  name,  and  a 
general  idea." 

The  same  doctrine  is  advanced  in  mariy  places  of  his  works  by 

Condillac.^      Adam    Smith    has,   however,   the 

°  '  **'■  merit  of  havine  applied  this  theory  to  the  for- 

Adam  Smith.  .  r>      i  i  ./ 

raation  of  language ;  and  his  doctrine,  which  Dr. 
Brown,^   absolutely,   and    Mr.    Stewart,^   with    some    qualification, 

adopts,  is  too  important  not  to  be  fully  stated. 

Brown.     Stewart.  ,      .        ,  .  ^  r.  ,     -,  rr,, 

and    in    his   own    poweriui    language:  — "  Ihe 

assignation,"  says  Smith,"*  "  of  particular  names,  to  denote  particular 

objects,  —  that  is,  the  institution  of  nouns  sub- 
Smith  quoted.  .  ,     i  i     i  n   ■,      n 

stantive,  would  probably  be  one  of  the  first  steps 

towards  the  formation  of  language.  Two  savages,  who  had  never 
been  taught  to  speak,  but  had  been  bred  up  remote  from  the  socie- 
ties of  men,  would  naturally  begin  to  form  that  language  by  which 
they  would  endeavor  to  make  their  mutual  wants  intelligible  to 
each  other,  by  uttering  certain  sounds  whenever  they  meant  to  de- 
note certain  objects.  Those  objects  only  which  were  most  familiar 
to  them,  and  which  they  had  most  frequent  occasion  to  mention, 
would  have  particular  names  assigned  to  them.  The  particular 
cave  whose  covering  sheltered  them  from  the  weather,  the  particular 
tree  whose  fruit  relieved  their  hunger,  the  particular  fountain  whose 
water  allayed  their  thirst,  would  first  be  denominated  by  the  words, 
cave,  tree,  fountain,  or  by  whatever  other  appellations  they  might 
think  proper,  in  that  primitive  jargon,  to  mark  them.  Afterwards, 
when  the  more  enlarged  experience  of  these  savages  had  led  them 
to  observe,  and  their  necessary  occasions  obliged  them  to  make 
mention  of  other  caves,  and  other  trees,  and  other  fountains,  they 
would  naturally  bestow  upon  each  of  those  new  objects  the  same 
name  by  which  they  had  been  accustomed  to  express  the  similar 
object  they  were  first  acquainted  with.  The  new  objects  had  none 
of  them  any  name  of  its  own,  but  each  of  them  exactly  resembled 
another  object,  which  had  such  an  appellation.  It  was  impossible 
that  those  savages  could  behold  the  new  objects,  without  recol- 
lecting the  old  ones;  and  the  name  of  the  old  ones,  to  which  the 
new  bore  so  close  a  resemblance.  When  they  had  occasion,  there- 
fore, to  mention  or  to  ]ioint  out  to  each  other  any  of  the  new  ob- 
jects, they  would  naturally  utter  the  name  of  the  correspondent  old 
one,  of  wdiich  the  idea  could  not  fail,  at  that  instant,  to  present 

1  See   Origine  des   Connoissances  Humaines,      ii.  p.  159.     Cf.  Elements,  vol.  ii.  part.  ii.  c.  ii. 
part  i.  sect.  iv.  c.  i  sect,  v.;  part  ii.  sect.  ii.  c.      $  4.     Works,  p.  173.  —  Ed. 

ix. —  Ed.  4  Considerations  cancer   .ng  the  First  FoTfa- 

2  Lecture  xlvii.  p.  306  (edit.  1830).  tion  of  Languages,  appended  to  Theory  of  Mord 
S  i^kments,  vol.  i.  part  ii.  C.  iv.     Works,  vol.      Sentiments.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XXXVI.  METAPHYSICS.  495 

itself  to  their  memory  in  tlic  strongest  and  liveliest  manner.     And 
thus  those  words,  which  were  originally  the  proj^er  names  of  indi- 
viduals, would  each  of  them  insensibly  become  the  common  name 
of  a  multitude.     A  child  that  is  just  learning  to  speak,  calls  every 
person  who  comes  to  the  house  its  papa,  or  its  mamma ;  and  thus 
bestows  upon  the  whole   species  those  names  which  it  had  been 
taught  to  ap})ly  to  two  individuals.     I  have  known  a  clown  who  did 
not  know  the  proper  name  of  the  river  which  ran  by  his  own  door. 
It  was  the  river,  he  said,  and  he  never  heard  any  other  name  for  it. 
His  experience,  it  seems,  had  not  led  him  to  observe  any  other  river. 
The  general  word  ricer,  therefore,  was,  it  is  evident,  in  his  accept- 
ance of  it,  a  proper  name  signifying  an  individual  object.     If  this 
person  had  been  carried  to  another  river,  would  he  not  readily  have 
called  it  a  river?     Could  we  suppose  a  person  living  on  the  banks 
of  the  Thames  so  ignorant  as  not  to  know  the  general  word  rivery 
but  to  be  acquainted  only  with  the  particular  word   Thames^  if  he 
was  brought  to  any  other  river,  would  he  not   readily  call  it  a 
Thames?     This,  in  reality,  is  no  more  than  what  they  wlio  are  well 
acquainted  with  the  general  word  are  very  apt  to  do.     An  English- 
man, describing  any  great  river  which  he  may  have  seen  in  some 
foreign  country,  naturally  says,  that  it  is  another  Thames.     The 
Spaniards,  when  they  first  arrived  upon  the  coast  of  iNIexico,  and 
observed   the  wealth,  ])opulousness,  and  habitations  of  tliat  fine 
country,  so  much  superior  to  the  savage  nations  Avhich  they  had 
been  visiting  for  some  time  before,  cried  out  that  it  was  another 
Spain.     Hence,  it  was  called  New  Spain ;  and  this  name  has  stuck 
to  that  unfortunate  country  ever  since.    We  say,  in  the  same  manner, 
of  a  hero,  that  he  is  an  Alexander;  of  an  orator,  that  he  is  a  Cicero; 
of  a  philost)pIier,  that  he  is  a  Newton.     This  way  of  speaking,  which 
the  grammarians  call  :m  .Vntonomasia,  and  which  is  still  extremely 
comuKin,  tliongli  now  not  at  all  necessary,  demonstrates  how  much 
all  mankind  aii'  naturally  disposed  to  give  to  one  object  the  name 
of  any  other  which  nearly  resembles  it;  and  thus,  to  denominate  a 
multitude  bv  what  originallv  was  intended  to  exiiress  an  imlividual. 

"  It  is  this  ajiplicatiou  of  the  name  of  an  individual  to  a  great  mul- 
titude of  objects,  whose  resemblance  naturally  recalls  the  idea  of 
tliat  individual,  ami  of  the  name  which  expresses  it,  that  seems  orig- 
inally to  have  given  occasion  to  the  formation  of  those  classes  and 
assortments  which,  in  the  schools,  are  called  genera  and  specks!''' 

On  the  other  hand,  an  opposite  doctrine  is  -maintained  by  many 
profound  philosophers.    A  large  section  of  the  schoolmen  '  embraced 

1  Cf  Conimbriceiisi's,  In  Phys.  Arisi.  1   1.  c      Toletus,  Ibid.,  1.  1,  c  1,  text  3  et  uq.  i.  10a. 
J.  <i.  3.  nrt.  1,  p.  78;  and  q    4,   art.  1,  p    37.       Ed. 


496  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXXVl. 

it,  and,  among   more  modern  thinkers,  it  is   adopted  by  Campa- 

nella.  ^     Campanella  was  an  author  profoundly 

2.  An  opposite  doc-       Studied  by  Leibnitz,  who  even  places  him  on  a 

trine   maintained  by       jj^e  with,  if  not  above,  Bacon ;  and  from  him 

.many  of  the  Scliool-         .      .  .  t     ■>  ^         ■,  -r     •^      • 

mg^  It  IS  not   miprobable  that   Leibnitz   may  have 

Campanella.  taken  a  hint  of  his  own  doctrine  on  the  subject. 

Leibnitz.  j^  his  great  work,  the  JVbuveaux  Essais,  of  which 

Stewart  was  not  till  very  latterly  aware,  he  says,  ^ 

that,  "  general  terms  serve  not  only  for  the  perfection  of  languages, 

^  .^  .  ,  but  are  even  necessary  for  their  essential  con- 

Leibnitz  quoted.  .        ,  . 

stitution.  For  if  by  particulars  be  understood 
things  individual,  it  would  be  impossible  to  speak,  if  there  were 
only  proper  names,  and  no  appellatives,  that  is  to  say,  if  there  were 
only  names  for  things  individual,  since,  at  every  moment  we  are 
met  by  new  ones,  when  we  treat  of  persons,  of  accidents,  and  espec- 
ially of  actions,  which  are  tnose  that  we  describe  the  most ;  but  if 
by  particulars  be  meant  the  lowest  species  {sjyecies  infimas),  besides 
that  it  is  frequently  very  difficult  to  determine  them,  it  is  manifest 
that  these  are  already  universals,  founded  on  similarity.  Now,  as 
the  only  difference  o^  species  and  genera  lies  in  a  similarity  of  greater 
or  less  extent,  it  is  natural  to  note  every  kind  of  similarity  or  agree- 
ment, and,  consequently,  to  employ  general  terms  of  every  degree ; 
nay,  the  most  general  being  less  complex  with  regard  to  the  essences 
which  they  comprehend,  although  more  extensive  in  relation  to  the 
things  individual  to  which  they  aj^ply,  are  frequently  the  easiest  to 
form,  and  are  the  most  useful.  It  is  likewise  seen  that  children, 
and  those  who  know  but  little  of  the  language  which  they  attempt 
to  speak,  or  little  of  the  subject  on  which  they  would  employ  it, 
make  use  of  general  terms,  as  thing,  plant,  animal,  instead  of  using 
proper  names,  of  which  they  are  destitute.  And  it  is  certain  that 
all  projyer  or  individual  names  have  been  originally  appellative  or 
general."  In  illustration  of  this  latter  most  important  doctrine,  he, 
in  a  subsequent  part  of  the  work,  says :  ^  "  I  Avould  add,  in  conform- 
ity to  what  I  have  previously  observed,  that  proper  names  have 
been  originally  appellative,  that  is  to  say,  general  in  their  origin,  as 
Brutus,  Cffisar,  Augustus,  Capito,  Lentulus,  Piso,  Cicero,  Elbe, 
Rhine,  Rhur,  Leine,  Ocker,  Bucephalus,  Alps,  Pyrenees,  etc.,"  and, 
after  illustrating  this  in  detail,  he  concludes  :  — "  Thus  I  would 
make  bold  to  affirm  that  almost  all  words  have  been  originally  gen- 
eral terms,  because  it  would  happen  very  rarely  that  men  would 
invent  a  name,  expressly  and  without  a  reason,  to  denote  this  or 

1  [SeeTennemann,  Geschichteder  Philosophie,         2  Lib.  iii.  c.  i.  p.  297  (Erdmann).  —  Ed. 
vol  )x.  p.  334.]  3  Lib.  iii.  c.  iii.  p.  303  (Erdmann).  — Ed. 


II 


Lect.  xxxvl  metaphysics.  497 

thiit  individual.  We  may,  tlierefore,  assert  that  the  names  of  indi, 
vidual  things  were  names  of  species,  which  were  given  par  excellence^ 
or  otherwise,  to  some  individual,  as  the  name  Great  Head  to  hira 
of  the  whole  town  who  had  the  largest,  or  who  was  the  man  of 
most  consideration,  of  the  Great  Pleads  known.  It  is  thus  likewise 
that  men  give  the  names  of  genera  to  species,  that  is  to  say,  that 
they  content  themselves  with  a  term  more  general  or  vague  to 
denote  more  particular  classes,  when  they  do  not  care  about  the 
differences.  As,  for  example,  we  content  ourselves  with  the  gen- 
eral name  absinthium  (wormwood),  although  there  are  so  many 
species  of  the  plant  that  one  of  the  Bauhins  has  filled  a  whole  book 
with  them." 

That  this  was  likewise  the  opinion  of  the  great  Turgot,  we  learn 
from  his  biographer.  "M.  Turgot,"  says  Con- 
dorcet,  ^  "  believed  that  the  opinion  was  wrong, 
which  held  that  in  general  the  mind  only  acquired  general  or  ab- 
stract ideas  by  the  comparison  of  more  particular  ideas.  On  the 
contrary,  our  first  ideas  are  very  general,  for,  seeing  at  first  only  a 
small  number  of  qualities,  our  idea  includes  all  the  existences  to 
which  these  qualities  are  common.  As  we  acquire  knowledge,  our 
ideas  become  more  particular,  without  ever  reaching  the  last  limit; 
and,  what  might  have  deceived  the  metaphysicians,  it  is  precisely 
by  this  process  that  we  learn  that  these  ideas  are  more  general  than 
we  had  at  first  supposed." 

Here  are  two  opposite  opinions,  each  having  nearly  equal  author- 
ity in  its  favor,  maintained  on  both  sides  with  equal  ability  and 
apparent  evidence.  Either  doctrine  would  be  held  established  were 
we  unacquainted  with  the  arguments  in  favor  of  the  other. 

But  I  have  now  to  state  to  you  a  third  opinion,  intermediate  be- 
tween these,  which  conciliates  both,  and  seems, 
3.  A  third  or  inter-       moreover,  to  carry  a  superior  probability  in  its 
mediate  opinion  main-       statement.     This  Opinion  maintains,  that  as  our 
tained,-ti.at  language       k^o^ie.isre  proceeds  from  the  confused  to  the 

ftt  first  expresses  only  o      i  i         i  • 

the  vague  and  con-       distinct,  —  from  the  vague  to  the  determinate, 
fused.  — so,  in  the  mouths  of  chiMren,  language  at  first 

expresses  neither  the  precisely  general  nor  the 
determinately  individual,  but  the  vague  and  confused ;  and  that, 
out  of  this  the  universal  is  elaborated  by  generification,  the  partic- 
ular  and  singular  by  specification  and  individualization. 

I  formerly  explained  why  I  view  the  doctrine  held  by  Mr.  Stewart 
and  others  in  regard  to  perception  in  general  and  vision  in  partio- 

i  {Vie  lie  M.  Turgot,  Londres,  ITSU.  p.  2U.] 

63 


498  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVI 

ular,  as  erroneous ;  inasmuch  as  they  conceive  that  our  sensible  cog- 
nitions are  formed  by  the  addition  of  an  ahnost 
That  perception  com-       infinite    number   of   separate    and    consecutive 

mences  with    masses,  ^  .  ■  i  i     • 

already  shown.  ^^^^  ^^  attentive  perception,  each  act  being  cog- 

nizant of  a  certain  minimum  sensibile.  ^  On  the 
contrary,  I  showed  that,  instead  of  commencing  with  minima,  per- 
ception commences  with  masses ;  that,  though  our  capacity  of  atten- 
tion be  very  limited  in  regard  to  the  number  of  objects  on  which  a 
faculty  can  be  simultaneously  directed,  yet  that  these  objects  may 
be  large  or  small.  We  may  make,  for  example,  a  single  object  of 
attention  either  of  a  whole  man,  or  of  his  face,  or  of  his  eye,  or  of 
the  ]>upil  of  his  eye,  or  of  a  speck  upon  the  pupil.  To  each  of 
these  objects  there  can  only  be  a  certain  amount  of  attentive 
perception  apj^lied,  and  Ave  can  concentrate  it  all  on  any  one.  In 
proportion  as  the  object  is  larger  and  more  comjjlex,  our  attention 
can  of  course  be  less  applied  to  any  part  of  it,  and  consequently, 
our  knowledge  of  it  in  detail  Avill  be  vaguer  and  more  imperfect. 
But  having  first  acquired  a  com2:)rehensive  knowledge  of  it  as  a 
whole,  we  can  descend  to  its  several  parts,  consider  these  both  in 
themselves,  and  in  relation  to  each  other,  and  to  the  whole  of  which 
they  are  constituents,  and  thus  attain  to  a  complete  and  articulate 
knowledge  of  the  object.  We  decompose,  and  then  Ave  recompose. 
But  in  this  we  always  proceed  first  by  decomposition  or  analysis. 
All  analysis  indeed  supposes  a  foregone  composi- 
The  mind  in  eiabo-  tion  or  syiitliesis,  becausc  we  cannot  decompose 
rating  its  knowledge,       ^^.j^.^^.  j^  ^^^  alrcadv  couiposite.     But  in  our  ac- 

proceeds  by  analysis,  .  " 

from  the  whole  to  the  quisition  of  knowledge,  the  objects  are  presented 
parts.  to  US  Compounded  ;  and  they  obtain  a  unity  only 

in  the  unity  of  our  consciousness.  The  unity 
of  consciousness  is,  as  it  were,  the  frame  in  which  objects  are  seen. 
I  say,  then,  that  the  first  procedure  of  mind  in  the  elaboration  of 
its  knowledge  is  always  analytical.  It  descends  from  the  whole  to 
the  parts,  —  from  the  vague  to  the  definite.  Definitude,  that  is, 
a  knowledge  of  minute  differences,  is  not,  as  the  opposite  theory 

supposes,  the  first,  but  the  last,  term  of  our  cog- 

lllustrated.  ••-!-,  i  t 

nitions.  Between  two  sheej)  an  ordinary  spec- 
tator can  probably  apprehend  no  difference,  and  if  they  were  twice 
presented  to  him,  he  would  be  unable  to  discriminate  the  one  from, 
the  other.  But  a  shepherd  can  distinguish  every  individual  sheep ; 
and  why?  Because  he  has  descended  from  the  vague  knowledge 
which  we  all  have  of  sheep,  —  from  the  vague  knowledge  whicb 

1  See  above,  lect.  xiii.  p.  168.  —  Ed. 


Lect.   XXXVI.  METAPHYSICS.  499 

makes  every  sheep,  as  it  were,  only  a  repetition  of  the  same  undif- 
ferenced  unit,  —  to  a  definite  knowledge  of  qualities  by  which  each 
is  contrasted  from  its  neighbor.  Now,  in  this  example,  we  appre- 
hend the  sheep  by  marks  not  less  individual  than  those  by  which 
the  shepherd  discriminates  them  ;  but  the  whole  of  each  sheep  being 
made  an  object,  the  marks  by  which  we  know  it  are  the  same  in 
each  and  all,  and  cannot,  therefore,  afford  the  principle  by  which 
we  can  discriminate  them  from  each  other.  Now  this  is  what 
appears  to  me  to  take  [dace  with  children.  They  first  know, — 
they  first  cognize,  the  things  and  persons  presented  to  them  as 
wholes.  liut  wholes  of  the  same  kind,  if  we  do  not  descend  to 
their  parts,  afford  us  no  difference,  —  no  mark  by  which  we  can  dis- 
criminate the  one  from  the  other.  Children,  thus,  originally  per- 
ceiving similar  objects,  —  persons,  for  example,  —  only  as  wholes, 
do  at  first  hardly  distinguish  them.  They  apprehend  first  the  more 
obtrusive  marks  that  separate  species  from  species,  and,  in  conse- 
quence of  the  notorious  contrast,  of  dress,  men  from  women ;  but 
they  do  not  as  yet  recognize  the  finer  traits  that  discriminate  indi- 
vidual from  individual.  But,  though  thus  apprehending  individuals 
only  by  what  we  now  call  their  specific  or  their  generic  qualities,  it 
is  not  to  be  supposed  that  children  know  them  by  any  al)stract 
general  attributes,  that  is,  by  attributes  formed  by  comparison  and 
attention.  On  the  other  hand,  because  their  knowledge  is  not  gen- 
eral, it  is  not  to  be  supposed  to  be  particular  or  individual,  if  by 
particular  be  meant  a  separation  of  species  from  species,  and  by 
individual  the  separation  of  individual  from  individual;  for  children 
are  at  first  apt  to  confound  individuals  together,  not  only  in  name 
but  in  reality.  "  A  child  who  has  been  taught  to  say  papa,  in  jioint- 
ing  to  his  father,  will  give  at  first,  as  Locke  [and  Aristotle  befove 
him]  had  remarked,  the  name  of  p( (pa  to  all  the  men  whom  he 
sees.'  As  he  only  at  first  seizes  on  the  more  striking  appearances 
of  objects,  they  would  appear  to  him  all  similar,  and  he  denotes 
them  by  the  same  names.  But  when  it  luis  been  pointed  out  to 
liim  that  he  is  mistaken,  or  when  he  has  discovered  this  by  the  con- 
sequences of  his  language,  he  studies  to  discriminate  the  objects 
which  he  had  confounded,  and  he  takes  hold  of  their  diftl-rences. 
The  child  commences,  like  the  savage,  by  employing  only  isolated 
words  in  place  of  j^hrases ;  he  commences  by  taking  verbs  and  nouns 
only  in  their  absolute  state.  But  as  these  imperfect  attempts  at 
speech  express  at  once  many  and  very  different  things,  an<I  produce, 

1  Aristotle,   Phys.  Ause.  i.   1.      Cf.   Locke,      who  adduces  the  came  instance,  but  not  quit« 
Etaay  on  the  Human  Untlerstanding,  iii.  3,  7,      for  the  same  purpose. —  Ed. 


500  METAPHYSICS  Lect.  XXXVl 

in  conseqxience,  manifold  ambiguities,  he  soon  discovers  the  necessity 
of  determining  them  with  greater  exactitude ;  he  endeavors  to  make 
it  understood  in  what  respects  the  tiling  which  he  wishes  to  denote, 
is  distinguished  from  those  with  which  it  is  confounded ;  and,  to 
succeed  in  this  endeavor,  he  tries  to  distinguish  them  himself.  Thus 
when,  at  this  age,  the  child  seems  to  us  as  yet  unoccupied,  he  is  in 
reality  very  busy ;  he  is  devoted  to  a  study  which  differs  not  in  its 
nature  from  that  to  which  the  philosopher  applies  himself;  the  child, 
like  the  philosopher,  observes,  compares,  and  analyzes."^ 

In  support  of  this  doctrine  I  can  appeal  to  high  authority ;  it  is 
that  maintained  by  Aristotle.     Speaking  of  the 

This  doctrine  main-  i  /•  i  •         i        •      i        •  i 

A  •  t  ti  order  oi  procedixre  m  physical  science,  he  says, 

"  We  ought  to  proceed  from  the  better  known 
to  the  less  known,  and  from  what  is  clearer  to  us  to  that  which 
is  clearer  in  nature.  But  those  things  are  first  known  and  clearer, 
which  are  more  complex  and  confused  ;  for  it  is  only  by  subsequent 
analysis  that  we  attain  to  a  knowledge  of  the  parts  and  elements 
of  which  they  are  composed.  We  ought,  therefore,  to  proceed 
from  universals  to  singulars ;  for  the  whole  is  better  known  to  sense 
than  its  parts ;  and  the  universal  is  a  kind  of  whole,  as  the  universal 
comprehends  many  things  as  its  parts.  Thus  it  is  that  names  are 
at  first  better  known  to  us  than  definitions ;  for  the  name  denotes 
a  whole,  and  that  indeterminately ;  whereas  the  definition  divides 
and  explicates  its  parts.  Children,  likewise,  at  first  call  all  men 
fathers  and  all  women  mothers ;  but  thereafter  they  learn  to  dis- 
criminate each  individual  from  another."  ^ 

The  subtle   Scaliger  teaches  the  same  doctrine ;   and  he  states 
it    better    perhaps    than    any    other    philoso- 

J.  C.  Scaliger.  ,  J  I 

pher : 
"Universalia  magis,  ac  prius  esse  nota  nobis.  Sic  enim  patres 
a  pueris  omnes  homines  appellari.  Quia  aequivocationibus  nomina 
communicantur  ab  ignaris  etiam  rebus  differentibus  definitione. 
Sic  enim  chirothecam  meam,  puerulus  quidam  manum  appella- 
bat.  An  ei  pro  chirothecjB  specie  manus  species  sese  representa- 
bat  ?  Nequaquam.  Sed  judicium  aberat,  quod  distingueret 
differentias.  An  vero  summa  fjenera  nobis  notiora?  Non.  Com- 
posita  enim  notiora  nobis.  Genera  vero  partes  sunt  specierum : 
quas  in  partes  ipsae  species  multa  resolvuntur  arte.  Itaque  eandem 
ob  rationem  ipsa  genera,  sub  notione  comprehensionis  et  praedica- 
bilitatis,  sunt  notiora  quam  ipsae  species.  Cognoscitur  animal. 
Animalium  species  quot  ignorantur  ?      Sunt  enim   species  partes 

1  Degerando,  Des  Signes,  i.  156.  Fhiloponus,  Themistius,  Averroes,  SimpUciaa» 

2  Phys.  Aitsc.  i.  1.  —  Ed.     [Cf.  in  loc.  cit.     Pacius,  Conimbricenses,  Tolet.] 


Lect.  xxxvi.  metaphysics.  501 

praedicabiles.  Sic  totum  integrum  nobis  notius,  quam  partes  e 
quibus  constat.  Omne  igitur  quodcunque  sub  totius  notione  sese 
ofTert,  prius  cognoscitur,  quam  ejus  partes.  'Sic  species  constituta, 
prius  quam  constituentia :  ut  equus,  prius  quam  animal  domabile 
ad  trahendum,  et  vehendum.  Hoc  enim  postea  scimus  per  resolu- 
tionem.  Sic  genus  praedicabile,  prius  quam  suae  species.  Sic  to- 
tum integrum,  prius  quam  partes.  Contrarius  huic  ordo  Naturae 
est."^ 

1  De  SubtUitate,  Ex.  cccvii.  }  21.    [Cf.  Zaba-  tiones,  lib.  i.  q.  1,  p.  1  (edit.  1571).    Herbart, 

rella,  De  Ordine  InteUigendi,  o.  i.    (De  Rebus  Lehrbuch    zur    Psychologie,    §    194.       CroustLC, 

Naturalihus,  p.  1042),  and  In  Phys.  Arist.  i.  1,  Logiqut,  t.  iii.  p.  1.  §  iii.  C.  iv.  p.  141.] 
text.  5.  Andres  Caesalpiui,  Perifotetica  Qu<zj- 


LECTURE    XXXVII. 

THE  ELABORATIVE  FACULTY.  —  JUDGMENT  AND  REASONING. 

In  our  last  Lecture,  I  tenninated  the  consideration  of  the  fac- 
ulty of  Comparison  in  its   process  of  Generali- 
Judgment  and  Kea-       nation.      I  am   to-day  to  consider   it    in   those 
of   its    operations,   which    have    obtained    the 
special  names  of  Judgment  and  Reasoning. 

In  these  processes  the  act  of  Comparison  is  a  judgment  of  some- 
thing more  than  a  mere  affirmation  of  the  ex- 
Acts  of  Comparison.       .       ^         ^         1  ^,  . 

istence   or   a   phaenomenon,  —  somethmg    more 

than  a  mere  discrimination  of  one  phsenoraenon  from  another; 
and,  accordingly,  while  it  has  happened,  that  the  intervention  of 
judgment  in  every,  even  the  simplest,  act  of  primary  cognition,  as 
monotonous  and  rapid,  has  been  overlooked,  the  name  has  been 
exclusively  limited  to  the  more  varied  and  elaborate  comparison 
of  one  notion  with  another,  and  the  enouncement  of  their  agree- 
ment or  disagreement.  It  is  in  the  discharge  of  this,  its  more 
obtrusive,  function,  that  we  are  now  about  to  consider  the  Elab- 
orative  Faculty. 

Considering  the  Elaborative  Faculty  as  a  mean  of  discovering 

truth,  by  a  comparison  of  the  notions  we  have 

Judgment  and  Rea-       obtained  from  the  Acquisitive  Powers,  it  is  evi- 

Z'um»rfionTfTh"^       ^'lent  that,  though  this  faculty  be  the  attribute 

human  mind.  by  which  a  man  is  distinguished  as  a  creation 

higher  than  the  animals,  it  is  equally  the  quality 
which  marks  his  inferiority  to  superior  intelligences.  Judgment 
and  Reasoning  are  rendered  necessary  by  the  imperfection  of  our 
nature.  Were  we  capable  of  a  knowledge  of  things  and  their  rela- 
tions at  a  single  view,  by  an  intuitive  glance,  discursive  thought 
would  be  a  superfluous  act.  It  is  by  such  an  intuition  that  we 
must  suppose  that  the  Supreme  Intelligence  knows  all  things  at 
once.  • 

I  have  already  noticed  that  our  knowledge  does  not  commence 
with  the  individual  and  the  most  particular,  objects  of  knowledge, 


Lect.  XXXVII.  METAPHYSICS.  503 

—  that  we  do  not  rise  in  any  regular  progress  from  the   less  to 

the  more  general,  first  considering  the  qualities 
Our  knowledge  com-       which  characterize  individuals,  then  those  which 

meiices  witli  the  vaj^ue         i     i  -  •  i  •  i 

belons;  to  species  and  s;enera,  in  resrular  ascent. 

and  cou fused.  o  i  o  '  o 

On  the  contrary,  our  knowledge  commences 
with  the  vague  and  confused,  in  the  way  which  Aristotle  has  so 
well  illustrated  in  the  passage  alleged  to  you.^     This  I  may  further 

explain   by  another  analogy.     We  perceive  an 

object    approaching   from  a  distance.     At  first 

we  do  not  know  whether  it  be  a  living  or  an  inanimate  thing.     By 

(lesirees  we  become  aware  that  it  is  an  animal,  but  of  what  kind, 

—  whether  man  or  beast,  —  we  are  not  as  yet  able  to  determine. 
Jt  continues  to  advance,  we  discover  it  to  be  a  quadruped,  but  of 
what  species  we  cannot  yet  say.  At  length,  we  perceive  that  it  is 
a  horse,  and  again,  after  a  season,  we  find  that  it  is  Bucephalus. 
Thus,  as  I  formerly  observed,  children,  first  of  all,  take  note  of  the 
generic  difl:erences,  and  they  can  distinguish  species  long  before 
tliey  are  able  to  discriminate  individuals.  In  all  this,  however,  I 
must  again  remark,  that  our  knowledge  does  not  properly  com- 
mence with  the  general,  but  with  the  vague  and  confused.  Out  of 
this  the  general  and  the  individual  are  both  equally  evolved. 

"  In  consequence  of  this  genealogy  of  our  knowledge  we  usually 
commence  by  bestowing  a  name  upon  a  whole 
Act  of  judgment,-       ^^^ct,  ov  cougerics  of  objects,  of  which,  how- 
ever, we  possess  only  a  partial  and  indefinite  con- 
ception.    In  tlie  sequel,  this  vague  notion  becomes  somewhat  more 
determinate ;    the    partial    idea   which   we   had   becomes   enlarged 
by  new  accessions  ;    by  degrees,  our  concejition  waxes  fuller,  and 
represents  a  greater  number  of  attributes.     With  this  conception, 
thus  am^jlified  and  improved,  we  compare  tlie  last  notion  which  has 
been  acfjuired,  that  is  to  say,  we  compare  a  part  with  its  whole, 
or  with  the  other  parts  of  this  whole,  and  finding  that  it  is  harmo- 
nious, —  that  it  dovetails  and  naturally  assorts  with  other  parts,  we 
acquiesce  in  this  union  ;  and  this  we  denominate  an  act  of  Judg- 
ment. 

"In   learning  Arithmetic,  I  form  the  notion  of  the  number  si.r, 
as  surpassing  ^p'm  by  a  single  unit,  and  as  sur- 

Illustrated.  t   •        i       *  .-         i  rpi 

passed  in  the  same  proportion  by  seven,  l  lien 
I  find  that  it  can  be  divided  into  two  equal  halves,  of  which  cadi 
contains  three  units.  By  this  procedure,  the  notion  of  the  number 
six  becomes  more  comj)lex  ;  the  notion  of  an  even  number  is  one 

I  See  above,  p  500.  —  Ed. 


504  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVIL 

of  its  parts.  Comparing  this  new  notion  with  that  of  the  number,, 
six  becomes  fuller  by  its  addition.  I  recognize  that  the  two  no- 
tions suit,  —  in  other  woi'ds,  I  judge  tluit  six  is  an  even  number. 

"  I  have  the  conception  of  a  triangle,  and  this  conception  is  com- 
posed in  my  mind  of  several  others.  Among  these  partial  notions^ 
I  select  that  of  two  sides  greater  than  the  third,  and  this  notion, 
which  I  had  at  first,  as  it  were,  taken  apart,  I  reunite  with  the 
others  from  which  it  had  been  separat,ed,  saying  the  triangle  con- 
tains always  two  sides,  which  together  are  greater  than  the  third. 

"When  I  say,  body  is  divisible;  among  the  notions  which  con- 
cur in  forming  my  conception  of  body,  I  particularly  attend  to  that 
of  divisible,  and  finding  that  it  really  agrees  with  the  others,  I 
judge  accordingly  that  body  is  divisible. 

"Every  time  we  judge,  we  compare  a  total  conception  with  a 
partial,  and  we  recognize  that  the  latter  really 

u  jec  .      re  ica  e.       constitutes  a  part  of  the  former.     One  of  these 

Copula.  .  '■ 

conceptions  has  received  the  name  of  subject,. 
the  other  that  oi  attribute  or  predicate.''''  ^  The  verb  which  connects 
these  two  parts  is  called  the  copula.  The  quadrangle  is  a  double 
triangle;  nine  is  an  odd  number  ;  body  is  divisible.  Here  quadrangle., 
nine.,  body.,  are  subjects  ;  a  double  triangle,  an  odd  number,  divisible, 

are  predicates.      The  whole  mental  iudgment. 

Proposition.  n  i    i  ,  ,  •  t  n  ,        . 

lormed  by  the  subject,  predicate,  and  copula,  is 
called,  when  enounced  in  words,  2>'>'oposition. 

"In  discourse,  the  parts  of  a  proposition  are  not  always  found 

placed  in  logical  order ;  but  to  discover  and  dis- 

ow     e  pa  s  o  a       criminate   them,  it  is  only  requisite  to  ask  — 

proposition  are  to  be  .  .  .  . 

discriminated.  What  is  the  thing  of  whicli  something  else  i» 

affirmed  or  denied  ?  The  answer  to  this  ques- 
tion will  point  out  the  subject  ;  and  we  shall  find  the  pi-edicate 
if  we  inquire,  — What  is  affirmed  or  denied  of  the  matter  of  which 
we  speak  ? 

"  A  proposition  is  sometimes  so  enounced  that  each  of  its  teima 
may  be  considered  as  subject  and  as  ])redicate.  Thus,  when  we 
say,  —  Death  is  the  wages  of  sin  ;  we  may  regard  sin  as  the  subject 
of  which  we  predicate  death,  as  one  of  its  consequences,  and  we 
may  likewise  view  death  as  the  subject  of  which  we  predicate  sin, 
as  the  origin.  In  these  cases,  we  must  consider  the  general  tenor 
of  the  discourse,  and  determine  from  the  context  what  is  the  matter 
of  which  it  principally  treats." 

"In  fine,  when  we  judge  we  must  have,  in  the  first  place,  at  least 

1  Crousaz,  [Logiqut,  torn.  iii.  part  ii.  c.  i.  pp.  178, 181  — Ed.] 


Lect.  XXXVII.  METAPHYSICS.  505 

two  notions ;  in  the  second  place,  we  compare  these ;  in  the  third, 

we  recognize  that  the  one  contains  or  excludes 
What  Judgment  in-       ^^e  Other ;  and,  in  the  fourth,  we  acquiesce  in 

vol  V6S> 

this  recognition."^ 
Simple  Comparison  or  Judgment  is  conversant  with  two  notions, 

the  one  of  which  is  contained  in  the  other.    But 

easoning,— w  a  .       .^  ^ften  happens  that  one  notion  is  contained  in 

another  not  immediately,  but  mediately,  and  we  may  be  able  to 

recognize  the  relation  of  these  to  each  other  only  through  a  third,. 

which,  as  it  immediately  contains  the  one,  is  immediately  contained 

in  the  other.      Take  the  notions,  A,  B,  C.  —  A 

contains  B ;  B  contains  C  ;  — A,  therefore,  also 
contains  C.  But  as,  ex  Jiypothesi,  we  do  not  at  once  and  directly 
know  C  as  contained  in  A,  we  cannot  immediately  compare  them 
together,  and  judge  of  their  relation.  We,  therefore,  perform  a 
double  or  complex  process  of  comparison ;  we  compare  B  with  A> 
and  C  with  B,  and  then  C  Avith  A,  through  B.  We  say  B  is  a  part 
of  A ;  C  is  a  part  of  B ;  therefore,  C  is  a  part  of  A.  This  double 
act  of  comparison  has  obtained  the  name  of  Reasoning ;  the  term 
Judgment  being  left  to  express  the  simple  act  of  comparison,  or 
rather  its  result. 

If  this  distinction  between  Judgment  and  Reasoning  were  merely 
a  verbal  ditference  to  discriminate  the  simpler  and  more  complex 
act  of  comparison,  no  objection  could  be  raised  to  it  on  the  score 
of  propriety,  and  its  convenience  would  fully  warrant  its  establish- 
ment. But  this  distinction  has  not  always  been  meant  to  express 
nothing  more.  It  has,  in  fact,  been  generally  supposed  to  mark  out 
two  distinct  liiculties. 

Reasoning  is  either  froni  the  whole  to  its  parts ;  or  from  all  the 

parts,  discretively,  to  the  whole  they  constitute,, 
Keasoning.-Dcduc-       ^.^Hectivcly.     The  former  of  these  is  Deductive ; 

live  and  Inductive.  '  •      t     t        •         t-»  •  mi 

tlie  latter  is  Inductive  Keasonmg.  1  he  state- 
ment you  will  find,  in  all  logical  books,  of  reasonings  from  certain 

parts  to  the  whole,  or  fn^n  certain  parts  to  cer- 

Deductive  Reason-       tain  parts,  is  erroiioous.    I  shall  tirst  sjieak  of  the 

ing,  — its  axiom.  Two       reasoning  from  till'  \vlu)le  to  its  parts,  —  or  of  the 

pha..es    of  Deductive         D^.J^^.ti;,.  InlbrcncC. 

ed  by  two  kinds  oi  1°'  ^^  IS  self-evident,  that  whatever  is  the  part 

whole  and  parts.  of  a  part,  is  a  part  of  the  whole.     This  one  ax- 

iom is  the  foundation  of  all  reasoning  from  the 
whole  to  the  parts.     There  are,  however,  two  kinds  of  whole  and 

J  Crousaz,  [Logit/ur  t.  iii.  v-  "■  c   i.  pp.  181,  IRiI  —  Ed  ] 


506  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVU 

parts ;  and  these  constitute  two  varieties,  or  rather  two  phases,  of 
deductive  reasoning.  This  distinction,  which  is  of  the  most  impor- 
tant kind,  has  nevertheless  been  wholly  overlooked  by  logicians,  in 
consequence  of  which  the  utmost  perplexity  and  confusion  have 
been  introduced  into  the  science. 

I  have  foiTOerly  stated  that  a  proposition  consists  of  two  terms, 

—  the  one   called  subject,  the  other  predicate; 

Subject  or  predicate       the  subject  being  that  of  which  some  attribute 

may    be    considered       -^  ^^^^^^  ^^^  predicate  being  the  attribute  so  said. 

severally  as  whole  and  .  t^  . 

as  part.  Now,  m  different  relations,  we  may  regard  the 

subject  as  the  whole,  and  the  predicate  as  its 
part,  or  the  predicate  as  the  whole  and  the  subject  as  its  part. 

Let  us  take  the  proposition,  —  milk  is  xohite.     Now,  here  we  may 
either  consider  the  predicate  vTdte  as  one  of  a 

Illustrated.  ,  ^  -i  ,  , 

number  or  attributes,  the  whole  complement  of 
which  constitutes  the  subject  w^^7X^•.  In  this  point  of  view,  the 
predicate  is  a  part  of  the  subject.  Oi-,  again,  we  may  consider  the 
predicate  xohite  as  the  name  of  a  class  of  objects,  of  which  the  sub- 
ject is  one.  In  this  point  of  view,  the  subject  is  a  part  of  the 
predicate. 

You  will  remember  the  distinction,  which  I  formerly  stated,  of 

the  twofold  quantity  of  notions  or  terms.     The 

Comprehension.  Breadth  or  Extension  of  a  notion  or  term  con-e- 

Extension  of  notions,  -\      ^       ,^  .  ■,  ^        •.  . 

as  applied  to  Reason-  ^P.*'"^^^  *«  ^^^^  greater  number  of  subjects  con- 
ing, tained  under  a  predicate ;  the  DejDth,  Intension, 

or  Comprehension  of  a  notion  or  term,  to  the 
greater  number  of  predicates  contained  in  a  subject.  These  quan- 
tities or  Avholes  are  always  in  the  inverse  ratio  of  each  other.  Now, 
it  is  singular,  that  logicians  should  have  taken  this  distinction  be- 
tween notions,  and  yet  not  have  thought  of  applying  it  to  reasoning. 
Biit  so  it  is,  and  this  is  not  the  only  oversight  they  have  committed 
in  the  application  of  the  very  primary  principles  of  their  science. 
The  great  distinction  we  have  established  between  the  subject  and 
predicate  considered  severally,  as,  in  different  relations,  Avhole  and 
as  part,  constitutes  the  primary  and  principal  division  of  Syllogisms, 
both  Deductive  and  Inductive  ;  and  its  introduction  wipes  off  a 
complex  mass  of  rules  and  qualifications,  which  the  want  of  it 
rendered  necessary.  I  can  of  course,  at  present,  only  explain  in 
general  the  nature  of  this  distinction  ;  its  details  belong  to  the 
science  of  the  Laws  of  Thought,  or  Logic,  of  which  we  are  not  here 
to  treat. 

I  shall  first  consider  the  process  of  that  Deductive  Inference  in 
which  the  subject  is  viewed  as  the  whole,  the  predicate  as  the  pan. 


Lect.  xxxyii.  metaphysics.  507 

In  this  reasoning,  the  whole  is  determined  by  the  Comprehension,  and 

is,  again,  either  a  Physical  or  Essential  whole,  or 

1.  Deductive  Rea-       an  Integral  or  Mathematical  whole,  ^     A  Phys- 

.oning  in  the  whole  of      ^^^^  ^j.  Essential  whole  is  that  which  consists  of 

Comprehension,  —  in  .     , 

which  the  subject  is  "^^  ^'^^^^Y  Separable  parts,  of  or  pertaming  to 
viewc-.]  as  tiie  whole,  its  substunce.  Tlius,  man  is  made  up  of  two 
tiie  predicate  as  the       substantial   parts,  —  a   mind   and    a  body ;   and 

part.     This  whole  ei-  ^        i^  ^i  ^  •  •  ^•  ^-  i  •    i, 

\     , .    .    ,     „   ,         each  01  these  has  again  various  quauties,  which; 

ttier  Physical  or  Matli-  ^  ^  _ 

ematicai.  '   though   separable   only  by  mental   abstraction, 

are  considered  as  so  many  parts  of  an  essential 
Avhole.  Thus  the  attributes  of  i-espiration,  of  digestion,  of  locomo- 
tion, of  color,  are  so  many  parts  of  the  whole  notion  we  have  of 
the  human  body ;  cognition,  feeling,  desire,  virtue,  vice,  etc.,  so 
many  parts  of  the  whole  notion  we  have  of  the  human  mind ;  and 
all  these  together,  so  many  parts  of  the  whole  notion  we  have 
of  man.  A  Mathematical,  or  Integral,  or  Quantitative  whole,  is 
that  which  has  part  out  of  part,  and  which,  therefore,  can  be  really 
partitioned.  The  Integral  or,  as  it  ought  to  be  called.  Integrate 
whole  {totum  integratum)^  is  composed  of  integrant  parts  {partem 
integrantes)^  which  are  either  homogeneous,  or  heterogeneous.  An 
example  of  the  former  is  given  in  the  division  of  a  square  into 
two  triangles ;  of  the  latter,  of  the  animal  body  into  head,  trunk, 
extremities,  etc. 

These  wholes  (and  there  are  others  of  less  importance  which  I 
omit)  are  varieties  of  that  whole  which  we  may  call  a  Comprehen- 
sive, or  Meta]»hysical ;  it  might  be  called  a  Natural  whole. 

Tills  being  understood,  let  us  consider  how  we  proceed  when 

we  reason  from  the  i-elation  between  a  compre- 

Canon  of  Deductive       hciisive  Avholc  and  its  parts.      Here,  as  I  have 

reasoning  in  the  whole  ^^.     ^^^^    subicct    is    the  whok',  the    predicate    itS 

of  I'oniprehension.  ''  t  i     i 

part ;  in  other  words,  the  predicate  belongs  to 
tlu'  subject.  Now,  here  it  is  evident,  that  all  the  parts  of  the 
predicate  must  also  be  parts  of  the  subject;  in  other  terms,  all  that 
belongs  to  the  predicate  must  also  belong  to  the  subject.  In  the 
Avords  of  the  scholastic  adage,  —  Nota  notai  eat  nota  rei  ipKias  ; 
PredicMtnm  prccUcati  est  precUcatutn  subjecti.  An  example  of  this 
reasoning : 

Europe  contains  England ; 

EnalaiKl  contains  3liddlesex  ; 

Therefore,  Europe  contains  ^Middlesex. 

1  See  Engeniofi,  [\oyiK\\,  c.  iv.  pp.  IW,  stltnt.  I.ngir.rr.,  1.  i.  c.  xir.  i>.  53  tt  sef.  edit 
»8    (1740).  — Kl>  ]       [Cf.     IJurt'ersdyck,     In-       Vm.\ 


508  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVIL 

In  other  words,  England  is  an  integrant  part  of  Europe ;  Middlesex 
IS  an  integrant  part  of  England ;  therefore,  Middlesex  is  an  inte- 
grant part  of  Europe.  This  is  an  example  from  a  mathematical 
whole  and  parts.     Again  : 

Socrates  is  Just  (thnt  is,  Socrates  contains  justice  as  a  quality)  ; 

Justice  is  a  A^irtue  (that  is,  justice  contains  virtue  as  a  constituent 
part)  ; 

Therefore,  Socrates  is  virtuous. 
In  other  words; — justice  is  an  attribute  or  essential  part  of  Socra- 
tes; virtue  is  an   attribute  or  essential   part  of  justice;  therefore, 
virtue   is  an    attribute  or   essential  part  of  Socrates.     This  is  an 
example  from  a  physical  or  essential  whole  and  parts. 

What  I  have  now  said  Avill  be  enough  to  show,  in  general,  what 
I  mean  by  a  deductive  reasoning,  in  which  the  subject  is  the  whole, 
the  predicate  the  part. 

I  2iroceed,  in  the  second  place,  to  the  other  kind  of  Deductive 
Reasoning, —  that  in    which   the  subject  is    the 

2.  Deductive     Kea-  it  ■       -,  ,     ,         r.,,  . 

soning  in  the  wi.oie  of  V^^'^^  the  predicate  IS  tlie  whole.    This  reasoning 

Extension— in  which  proceeds  Under  that  species  of  whole  which  has 

the  subject  is  viewed  been  called  the  Logical  or  Potential  or  Univer- 

a^     e  par ,    le  pre  i-  ^^^j^     Tlus  wliole  is  determined  bv  the  Extension 

cate  as  the  whole  _  ♦' 

of  a  notion ;  the  genern  having  species,  and  the 
species  individuals,  as  their  ])arts.  Thus  animal  is  a  universal 
whole,  of  which  bird  and  beast,  are  immediate,  ea(/le  and  sparrowy 
dog  and  horse,  mediate,  parts ;  while  man,  which,  in  relation  to  ani- 
mal, is  a  part,  is  a  whole  in  relation  to  Peter,  Paul,  Socrates,  etc. 
The  parts  of  a  logical  or  universal  whole,  I  should  notice,  are  called 
the  subject  parts. 

From  what  you  now  know  of  the  nature  of  generalization,  vou 
are  aware  that  general  terms  are  terms  expressive  of  attributes 
which  may  be  predicated  of  many  dijfferent  objects;  and  inasmuch 
as  these  objects  resemble  each  other  in  the  common  attribute,  they 
are  considered  by  us  as  constituting  a  class.  Thus,  when  I  say,  that 
a  horse  is  a  quadru])ed  ;  Bucephalus  is  a  horse  ;  therefore,  Bucepha- 
lus is  a  quadruped; — I  viitually  say,  —  horse  the  subject  is  a  part 
of  the  predicate  quadruped,  Buceplialus  the  subject  is  part  of  the 
predicate  horse;  therefore,  JBucej)halus  the  subject,  is  part  of  the 
predicate  quadruped.  In  the  reasoning  under  this  whole,  you  avIU 
observe  that  the  same  word,  as  it  is  whole  or  part,  changes  from 
predicate  to  subject ;  horse,  when  viewed  as  a  part  of  quadrujjed, 
being  the  subject  of  the  proposition  ;  whereas  when  viewed  as  a 
whole,  containing  Jiucephalus,  it  becomes  the  })redicate. 

Such  is  a  general  view  of  the  process  of  Deductive  Reasoning 


Lkct.  XXXVII.  METAPHYSICS.  509 

under  the  two  great  varieties  determined  by  the  two  different  kinds 

of  whole  and  parts.    I  now  proceed  to  the  coun- 

inductive  Reasoning,       ter-process,  —  that  of  Inductive  Reasoning.    The 

deductive  is  founded  on  the  axiom,  that  what  is 

part  of  the  part,  is  also  })art  of  the  containing  whole  ;  the  inductive 

on  the  principle,  that  what  is  true  of  every  constituent  ])art  belongs, 

or  does  not  belong,  to  the  constituted  whole. 

Induction,  like  deduction,  may  be  divided  into  two  kinds,  accord- 
ing as  the  whole  and   parts    about  which  it  is 
Of  two  kinds,  as  it       conversant,  are  a  Comprehensive  or  Physical  oi 
proceeds  in  the  whole       ^,^^^^^^^^    ^j.    ^^   Extcnsivc    or   Logical,   whole. 

of  Coiniirehension  or 

of  Extension.  Thus,  m  the  former  : 

Gold   is  a   metal,  yellow,   ductile,  fusible   in 

uqua  reffia,  of  a  certain  specific  gravity,  and  so  on ; 
These  qualities  constitute  this  body  (are  all  its  parts)  ; 
Therefore,  this  body  is  gold. 
In  the  latter;  —  Ox,  horse,  dog,  etc.,  are  animals,  —  that  is,  are 

contained  under  the  class  animal ; 

Ox,  horse,  dog,  etc.,  constitute  (are  all  the  constituents  of)  the 

class  quadruped ; 

Therefore,  quadruped  is  contained  under  ar.imal. 
Both  in  the  deductive  and  inductive  processes  the  inference  must 
be  of  an  absolute  necessity,  in  so  far  as  the  men- 
Deductive  and  In-       ^.j    iHatioii   is  concerned  ;  that  is,  every  conse- 

tiuctive  illation  must       ^^^^^^  proposition  must  bc  evolvcd  out  of  every 

be  of  an  absolute  ne-  ^  t.  .   .  .....  ., 

antecedent  proposition  with  intuitive  evidence. 

I  do  not  mean  by  this,  that  the  antecedent 
should  be  necessarily  true,  or  that  the  consequent  be  really  contained 
in  it ;  it  is  sufficient  that  the  antecedent  be  assumed  as  true,  and  tliat 
the  consequent  be,  in  conformity  to  the  laws  of  thought,  evolved 
out  of  it  as  its  part  or  its  equation.  This  last  is  called  Logical  or 
F'ormal  or  Subjective  trutli  ;  and  an  inference  may  be  subjectively 
or  formally  true,  which  is  objectively  or  really  false. 

The  account  given  of  induction  in  all  works 
Account  of  in.iuc-       ^^^  Lofjic  is  Utterly  erroneous.     Sometimes  we 

tion  by  Logicians,  er-  ^i,"^./.  i-ii  •  » 

find  this  inference  described  as  a  precarious,  not 


roufous. 


a  necessary  reasoning.  It  is  called  an  iUation 
from  some  to  all.  But  here  the  some,  as  it  neitlier  contains  nor 
constitutes  the  all,  determines  no  necessary  movement,  and  a  con- 
clusion drawn  under  these  circumstances  is  logically  vicious.  Others 
again  describe  the  inductive  process  thus : 

What  belongs  to  some  objects  of  a  class  belongs  to  tlie  whole 
class ; 


510  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVII. 

This  property  belongs  to  some  objects  of  the  class ; 

Therefore,  it  belongs  to  the  whole  class. 

This  account  of  induction,  which  is  the  one  you  will  find  in  all 
the  English  works  on  Logic,  is  not  an  inductive  reasoning  at  all. 
It  is,  logically  considered,  a  deductive  syllogism  ;  and,  logically  con- 
sidered, a  syllogism  radically  vicious.  It  is  logically  vicious  to  say, 
that,  because  some  individuals  of  a  class  have  certain  common 
qualities  apart  from  that  property  which  constitutes  the  class  itself, 
therefore  the  whole  individuals  of  the  class  should  partake  in  these 
qualities.  For  this  there  is  no  logical  reason,  —  no  necessity  of 
thought.  The  jirobability  of  this  inference,  and  it  is  only  probable, 
is  founded  on  the  observation  of  the  analogy  of  nature,  and,  there- 
fore, not  upon  the  laws  of  thought,  by  which  alone  reasoning,  con- 
sidered as  a  logical  process,  is  exclusively  governed.  To  become  a 
formally  legitimate  induction,  the  objective  probability  must  be 
clothed  with  a  subjective  necessity,  and  the  some  must  be  translated 
into  the  all  which  it  is  supposed  to  represent. 

In  the  deductive  syllogism  we  proceed  by  analysis,  —  that  is,  by 
decomposing  a  whole  into  its  parts ;  but  as  the 

In  Extension    and       ^^^q  wholes  with  which  reasoning  is  conversant 

Comprehension,      the  •       xi        •  a-         ^  i         ^i 

are  m  the  inverse  i-atio  of  each   other,  so  our 

analysis    of   the    one 

corresponds    to    the       analysis  in  the  one  will  correspond  to.  our  syn- 
synthesis  of  the  other.       thcsis  in  the  Other.    For  example,  when  I  divide 

a  whole  of  extension  into  its  parts, —  when  I 
divide  a  genus  into  the  species,  a  species  into  the  individuals,  it 
contains, —  I  do  so  by  adding  new  differences,  and  thus  go  on  accu- 
mulating in  the  parts  a  complement  of  qualities  which  did  not 
belong  to  the  wholes.  This,  therefore,  wliich,  in  point  of  extension, 
is  an  analysis,  is,  in  point  of  comprehension,  a  synthesis.  In  like 
manner,  when  I  decompose  a  whole  of  comprehension,  that  is,  de- 
compose a  complex  predicate  into  its  constituent  attributes,  I  obtain 
by  this  process  a  simpler  and  more  general  quality,  and  thus  this, 
which,  in  relation  to  a  comprehensive  whole,  is  an  analysis,  is,  ia 
relation  to  an  extensive  whole,  a  synthesis. 

As  the  deductive  inference  is  Analytic,  the  inductive  is  Syn- 
thetic. But  as  induction,  equally  as  deduction,  is  conversant  with 
both  wholes,  so  the  Synthesis  of  induction  on  the  comprehensive 
whole  is  a  reversed  process  to  its  synthesis  on  the  extensive  whole.. 

From  what  I  have  now  stated,  you  will,  there- 

confnsion   among       f        ^^  ^^^        ^-^^^  ^^^  ^^^^^  analysis  and  syn- 

philosophers  from  not  i      •  ^  • 

baving  observed  this.       thesis,  when  used  without  qualification,  may  be 

employed,  at  cross  purposes,  to  denote  opera- 
tions precisely  the  converse  of  each  other.    And  so  it  has  happened* 


Lect.  XXXVn.  METAPHYSICS.  511 

Analysis,  in  the  mouth  of  one  set  of  philosophers,  means  precisely 
what  synthesis  denotes  in  the  mouth  of  another;  nay,  what  is  even 
still  more  frequent,  these  words  are  perpetually  converted  with  each 
other  by  the  same  philosopher.  I  may  notice,  what  has  rarely, 
if  ever,  been  remarked,  that  si/nt/iesis  in  the  writings  of  the  Greek 
logicians  is  equivalent  to  the  analysis  of  modern  philosophers :  the 
former,  regarding  the  extensive  whole  as  the  principal,  applied 
analysis,  Kar  i$oxr)v,  to  its  division;^  the  latter,  viewing  the  compre- 
hensive whole  as  the  principal,  in  general  limit  analysis  to  its 
decomposition.  This,  however,  has  been  overlooked,  and  a  con- 
fusion the  most  inextricable  prevails  in  regard  to  the  use  of  these 
words,  if  the  thread  to  the  labyrinth  is  not  obtained. 

1  Thus  the  Platonic  method  of  Division  is      In  Post  Analyt.  1.  ii.  c.  xii.  t.  70,  Opera  Logxm, 
•ailed  Analytical.    See  Laertius,  ii.  24     Com-      p.  1190,  and  t.  81,  p.  1212.] 
pare  Discussions,  p  178.  —  £d.    [C&  Zabarella, 


LECTURE     XXXVIII. 

THE   REGULATIVE   FACULTY. 

I  NOW  enter  upon  the  last  of  the   Cognitive  Faculties,  —  the 

faculty  which    I   denominated  the  Regulative. 

The  Regulative  Fac-       Here   the   term  faculty^   you   will   observe,   is 

*^^'    ,.    .      ,  employed  in  a  somewhat  peculiar  signification, 

Peculiarity  of  sense  ^■••11 

in  which  the  term  Fac-  lor  it  IS  employed  not  to  denote  the  proximate 
uity  is  here  employed.       causc  of  any  definite  energy,  but  the  power  the 

mind  has  of  being  the  native  source  of  certain 
necessary  or  a  priori  cognitions;  which  cognitions,  as  they  are  the 
conditions,  the  forms,  under  which  our  knowledge  in  general  is  pos- 
sible, constitute  so  many  fundamental  laws  of  intellectual  nature. 
It  is  in  this  sense  that  I  call  the  power  which  the  mind  possesses  of 
modifying  the  knowledge  it  receives,  in  conformity  to  its  proper 
nature,  its  Regulative  Faculty.  The  Regulative  Faculty  is,  how- 
ever, in  fact,  nothing  more  than  the  complement  of  such  laws, — 
it  is  the  locus  principiorum.     It  thus  corresponds  to  what  was 

known  in  the  Greek  philosophy  under  the  name 

Designations  of  the       of  voCs,  when  that  term  was  rigorously  used.   To 

Eeguiative  Faculty.-       ^^jg  foculty  has  been  latterly  applied  the  name 

NoCs,  Reason.  _  ^  ^  •  •'      1  1 

Common  Sense, -its       -Heason ;  but  this  term  IS  so  vague  and  ambigu- 
Tarious  meanings.  ous,  that  it  is  aliiiost  Unfitted  to  convey  any 

definite  meaning.  The  term  Common  Sense 
has  hkewise  been  applied  to  designate  the  place  of  principles.  This 
■word  is  also  ambiguous.  In  the  first  place,  it  was  the  expression 
used  in  the  Aristotelic  philosophy  to  denote  the  Central  or  Com- 
mon Sensory,  in  which  the  different  external  senses  met  and  were 
united.^  In  the  second  place,  it  was  employed  to  signify  a  sound 
understanding  applied  to  vulgar  objects,  in  contrast  to  a  scientific 
or  speculative  intelligence,  and  it  is  in  this  signification  that  it  has 
been  taken  by  those  who  have  derided  the  principle  on  which  the 
philosophy,  which  has  been  distinctively  denominated  the  Scottish, 

1  Se«  De  Anima,  iii.  2,  7.    Cf.  in  he.  eit.    Conimbricenses,  pp.  373,  407  —Ed. 


Lkct.  XXXVm.  METAPHYSICS.  513 

professes  to  be  established.  This  is  not,  liowever,  the  meaning 
which  has  always  or  even  principally  been  attached  to  it ;  and  an 
incomparably  stronger  case  might  be  made  out  in  defence  of  this 

expression  than  has  been  done  by  Reid,  or  even 
Authorities  for  the       y^y  ]\£j._  Stcwart.     It  is  in  fact  a  term  of  high 

Use  of  the  term  Com-  ^-       -^  -i  i  ^    ^-  inr 

antiquity,  and  very  general  acceptation.      We 

Uion   flense  as  eqiiiva-  i        .' '  jo  i 

lenttoNoCs.  find  it  in  Cicero/  in  several  passages  not  hith- 

erto observed.  It  is  found  in  the  meaning  in 
question  in  Phsedrns,^  and  not  in  the  signification  of  community  of 
sentiment,  which  it  expresses  in  Horace^  and  Juvenal.''  "Natura," 
says  Tertullian,^  speaking  of  the  universal  consent  of  mankind  to 
the  immortality  of  the  soul,  —  "Natura  pleracpie  suggeruntur  quasi 
de  jxiblico  tiensti,  quo  animam  Deus  dotare  dignatus  est."  And 
in  the  same  meaning  the  term  /Sensus  Communis  is  employed  by 
St.  Augustin.®  In  modern  times  it  is  to  be  found  in  the  philosophi- 
cal writings  of  every  country  of  Europe.  In  Latin  it  is  used  by 
the  German  Melanchthon,'^  Victorinus,^  Keckermannus,*  Christian 
Thomasius,'^  Leibnitz,"  Wolf,'^  and  the  Dutch  De  Raei,**  —  by  the 
Gallo-Portuguese  Antonius  Goveanus,"  the  Spanish  Nunnesius,'* 
the  Italian  Genovesi,'"  and  Yico,''  and  by  the  Scottish  Aber- 
cromby;'"  in  P^-ench  by  Balzac,'*  Chanet,^  Pascal,^'  Malebranche," 
Bouhours,  Barbcyrac;®  in  English  by  Sir  Thomas  Browne,^*  To. 
land,^  Charleton.^  These  are  only  a  few  of  the  testimonies  I  coukl 
adduce  in  support  of  the  term  Common  Sense  for  the  faculty  in 
question  ;  in  fact,  so  far  as  use  and  wont  may  be  allowed  to  weigli, 
there  is  perhaps  no  philosophical  expression  in  su]>port  of  which 
a  more  numermis  array  of  authorities  may  be  alleged.     The  expres- 


1  See  Reid's  Works,  p.  774.  —Ed.  "  See  Reid's  Works,  p.  779. 

2  L.  i.  f.  7.  —  Ed.  15  P>id.  —  Ed. 

3  Sir.  i.  3,  66.     15ut  see  Reid^s  Works,  p.  774.  IC  Ihid..  p  790.—  Ed. 
—  Ed.  1"  /6i(/.  —  Ed. 

4  Sal.  viii.  73.—  Ed.  18  Ibid.,  p.  78.0.  —Ed. 
«  See  ReitVs  Works,  p.  776.  —  Ed.  19  Ibid.,  p.  782.  —  Ed. 
6  Ibid  ,  p.  776  —Ed.  20  Ibid.  —  V.v. 

'  Ibid.,  p.  778.  — Ed.  21  p,id.,  p.  783.  — Ed. 

8  [Victoriiii  Strigclii,  Hijpomnemata  in  Dia-  5!2  Ibid.,  p   784.  —  Ed. 

Uct.     Mflnnchtlwnis,  pp.  798,  1040,  ed.  1566.]  23  Dts  Droits  de  la  Puissance  Souveraine,  Re. 

9  See  Raid's  Works,  p.  780.  —  Ed.  eveil  de  Di.'!cours,  t.  i.  pp  36,  37.  A  translation 
Ki  Ptid.,  p.  785.  —  Ed.  from  the  Latin  of  Noodt,  in  wliich  wens  snna 
11  See  Rfids  Works,  p  785.  —  Ed.  and  smsus  couitininis  are  both  rendered  by  /« 
1-  Ibid.,  p   790.  —  Ed.  sens  couniiiin.  —  Ed. 

13  SeeC/rtfM  Philosopliirt  Nnturalis  Aristotelico-  2*  See  Rcirf's  Works,  p.  782.  — E». 

Carttsiann,  Dissert,  i.   Tte  Cnanitione  Vuleari  et  25  Ibid.,  p.  745. —  Ed. 

Philosnp/iica.  p.  7      "  Communis  facultas   om-  -''•  Cliarleton   use.s  the  term  in  its  Aristote. 

nium  hominum."     Dis.scrt.   ii.     De  Prirmsni-  Han  sijinifioation,  as  denotiiic  the  central  or 

tt,^  in  GoiT/-,  H  iv.  V.  pp.  34.  .^^.     "Communes  common  sensory  and   its  function.    Soe  his 

Notiones ;  "  }  x.  p.  41.     "  Communis  Sensus."  Immorlalitt/  of  the  Human  Soul  demonstrated  by 

_  Ed.                        •  »«'  Light  of  Nature  ( 1657),  pp.  32,  98,  158.  —  Ep-. 

65 


514  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVIII. 

sion,  liowever,  is  certainly  exceptionable,  and  it  can  only  claiin 
toleration  in  the  absence  of  a  better. 

I  may  notice  that  Pascal  and  Ilemsterhuis^  have  applied  Intui- 
tion and  Sentiment  in  this  sense;  and  Jacobi^  originally  employed 
Glaube  {Helief  or  Faith).,  in  the  same  way,  though  ho  latterly 
superseded  this  expression  by  that  of  Yernunft  {lieason). 

Were  it  allowed  in  metaphysical  philosophy,  as  in  physical,  to 
discriminate    scientific   differences  by  scientific 

Noetic    and    Diano-  .  -^  i  i  i  .  i  i  ,  •  t 

,       ,    ,  terms,  1  would  employ  the  word  noetic^  as  de- 

etic,  —  now  to  be  em-  '  -^      •'  _   _ 

ployed.  rived  from  vous,  to  express  all  those  cognitions 

Nomenclature  of  the       that  originate  in  the  mind  itself,  dianoetic  to 

cognitions  due  to  the        -^^^^^^  ^j^^  operations  of  the  Discursive,  Elabo- 

Regulative  Faculty.  ^  •  t^         i  ci 

rative,  or  Comparative  t  acuity.  So  much  for 
the  nomenclature  of  the  faculty  itself. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  cognitions  themselves,  of  which  it  is 
the  source,  have  obtained  various  appellations.      They  have  been 

denominated  Koivat  7rpoAT^i//€t5,  Kowal  IwoLat,  (f>vcnKai  eWoiai,  Trpoirai 
fvvoiaL,  Trpwra  vorjixara ;  nctturce  Judicia,  Judicia  coinmunibus  homi- 
nuni  se7isihus  injixa^  notiones  or  notitica  connatm  or  innatoe.,  semina 
scientice,  semina  om^nimn  cognitionum,  semina  ceternitatis,  zopyra 
{living  sparks),  prcecognita  necessaria,  anticipationes  ;  first  princi- 
ples, common  anticipations,  principles  of  common  sense,  self -evident 
or  intuitive  truths,  primitive  notions,  native  notions,  innate  cog- 
nitions, natural  hnoicledges  (^cognitions),  fundamental  reasons,, 
metaphysiccd  or  transcendentcd  truths,  ultimate  or  elemental  laics 
of  thought,  primary  or  fundamental  laws  of  human  belief,  ov pri- 
mary  laics  of  human  7-eason,  pure  or  transcendentcd  or  a  priori 
cognitions,  categories  of  thought,  natural  beliefs,  rationed  instincts, 
etc.,  etc.® 

The  history  of  opinions  touching  the  acceptation,  or  rejection,  of 

such  native  notions,  is,  in  a  manner,  the  history 

Importance  of  the  dis-       ^f  philosophy:  for  as  the  one  alternative,  or  Ihe 

tiuction  of  native  and  .,  .         i       ^    j    •      ^.i  •  x*  ii  i  *„_ 

other,  is  adopted  in  this  question,  the  character 

adventitious      knowl-  '  ^  '■ 

edge.  of  a  system  is  determined.     At  present  I  con- 

tent myself  with  stating  that,  though  from  the 
earliest  period  of  philosophy,  the  doctrine  was  always  common,  if 
not  always  predominant,  that  our  knowledge  originated,  in  part 
at  least,  in  the  mind,  yet  it  was  only  at  a  very  recent  date  that  the 
criterion  was  explicitly  enounced,  by  which  the  native  may  be  dis- 
criminated from  the  adventitious  elements  of  knowledge.  Without 
touching  on  some  ambiguous  expressions  in  more  ancient  philoso- 

1  See  Reid's  Works,  p.  792.  —  Ed.  3  See  RdiVs  Works,  note  A,  §  v.  p.  755  et  stq 

3  Rid.,  p.  793.  —  Ed.  —  Ed. 


Lkct.   XXXVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  515 

pters,  it  is  sufficient  to  say  tluit  the  character  of  universality  and 

necessity,   as   the    quality   by   which    the   two 

Criterion  of  neces-       classes  of  knowledge  are  distinguished,  was  first 

city  Hi-st  enounced  by       explicitly  proclaimed  by  Leibnitz.     It  is  true, 

^i'!r"tny  anticipated       indeed,  that,  previously  to  him,  Descartes  all 

by  Descartes.  but  cnounccd  it.     In  the  notes  of  Descartes  on 

the  Programma  of  1647  (which  you  will  find 
under  Letter  XCIX.  of  the  First  Part  of  his  J^pistolce),  in  arguing 
against  the  author  who  would  derive  all  our  knowledge  from  obser- 
vation or  tradition,  he  has  the  following  sentence :  "  I  wish  that  our 
author  would  inform  me  what  is  that  corporeal  motion  which  is 
able  to  form  in  our  intellect  any  common  notion, — for  example, 
things  that  are  equal  to  the  same  thing  are  equal  to  each  other, 
or  any  other  of  the  same  kind  ;  for  all  those  motions  are  particular, 
but  these  notions  are  universal,  having  no  affinity  with  motions,  and 
holding  no  relation  to  them."  Now,  had  he  only  added  the  term 
necessary  to  universal,  he  would  have  completely  anticipated  Leib- 
nitz. I  have  already  frequently  had  occasion  incidentally  to  notice, 
that  we  should  carefully  distinguish  between  those  notions  or 
cognitions  which  are  pi'imitive  facts,  and  those  notions  or  cognitions 
which  are  generalized  or  derivative  facts.  The  former  are  given  us ; 
they  are  not,  indeed,  obtrusive, —  they  are  not  even  cognizal>le  of 
themselves.  They  lie  hid  in  the  profundities  of  the  mind,  until 
drawn  from  their  obscurity  by  the  mental  activity  itself  employed 
upon  the  materials  of  experience.  Hence  it  is,  that  our  knowledge 
has  its  commencement  in  sense,  external  or  internal,  but  its  origin 
in  intellect.  ".Cotrnitio  omnis  a  sensibus  exordium,  a  mente  urigi- 
neiu  liabet  primum."''''  Tlie  latter,  the  derivative  cognitions,  are  of 
oui-  own  fabrication  ;  wc  form  them  after  certain  rules  ;  they  are  the 
tardy  result  of  Perception  and  Memory,  of  Attention,  Reflection, 
Abstraction.  The  jirimitive  cognitions,  on  the  contrary,  seem  to 
leap  ready  armed  from  the  womb  of  reason,  like  Pallas  from  the 
head  of  Jupiter;  sometimes  the  mind  places  them  at  the  commence- 
ment of  its  operations,  in  order  to  have  a  point  of  support  and 
a  fixed  basis,  without  which  the  operations  would  bo  im|i<)ssil)k' ; 
sometimes  they  form,  in  a  certain  sort,  tlie  crowning,  —  ihc  consum- 
mation, of  all  the  intellectual  operations.  The  derivative  or  gener- 
alized notions  are  an  artifice  of  intellect,  —  an  ingenious  mean  of 
giving  order  and  compactness  to  the  materials  of  our  knowledge. 
The  primitive  and  general  notions  are  the  root  of  all  principles.  — 
the  foundation  of  the  whole  edifice  of  human  science.  But  how 
diflferent  soever  be  the  two  classes  of  our  cognitions,  and  however 

y  See  above,  lect.  xxi.  p.  286.  — Ed. 


''^16  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVIIT. 

distinctly  separated  they  may  be  by  the  circumstance,  —  that  we 
cannot  but  think  the  one,  and  can  easily  annihilate  the  other  in 
thought,  —  this  discriminative  quality  was  not  explicitly  signalized 
till  done  by  Leibnitz.  The  older  philosophers  are  at  best  unde- 
veloped. Descartes  made  the  first  step  towards  a  more  perspicuous 
and  definite  discrimination.  He  frequently  enounces  that  our  primi- 
tive notions  (besides  being  clear  and  distinct)  are  universal.  But 
this  universality  is  only  a  derived  circumstance; — a  notion  is 
universal  (meaning  thereby  that  a  notion  is  common  to  all  man- 
kind), because  it  is  necessary  to  the  thinking  mind,  —  because  the 

mind  cannot  but  think  it.     Spinoza,  in  one  pas- 

And  by  Spinoza.  .        _,      _,  J^     ,  t       „  , 

sage  ot  his  treatise  JJe  Ji,mendati07ie  Intellectus^ 
says:  "The  ideas  which  we  fiarm  clear  and  distinct,  appear  so  to 
follow  from  the  sole  necessity  of  our  nature,  that  they  seem  abso- 
lutely to  depend  from  our  sole  power  [of  thought] ;  the  confused 
ideas  on  the  contrary,"  etc.  This  is  anything  but  explicit ;  and,  as 
I  said,  Leibnitz  is  the  first  by  whom  the  criterion  of  necessity,  —  of 
the  impossibility  not  to  think  so  and  so,  — was  established  as  a  dis- 
criminative type  of  our  native  notions,  in  contrast  to  those  which 
we  educe  from  experience,  and  build  up  through  generalization. 
The  enouncement  of  this  criterion  was,  in  fact,  a  great  discovery 

in  the  science  of  mind;  and  the  fact  that  a  truth 

The  enouncemeut  of      so  manifest,  when  once  proclaimed,  could  have 

this  criterion,  a  great       j^^j^^   ^^   j^^^   unnoticed   bv  philosophers,  may 

step  in  the  science  of  \      .        .  "      i  i  >  . 

jnind.  warrant  us  in  hoping  that  other  discoveries  of 

equal  importance  may  still  be  awaiting  the 
advent  of  another  Leibnitz.  Leibnitz  has,  in  several  parts  of  his 
works,  laid  down  the  distinction  in  question ;  and,  wliat  is  curious, 
almost  always  in  relation  to  Locke.  In  the  fifth  volume  of  his 
works  by  Dutens,  ^  in  an  Epistle  to  Bierling  of  1710,  he  says, 
(I  translate  from  the  Latin)  :  —  "In  Locke  there  are  some  particu- 
lars not  ill  expounded,  but  upon  the  whole  he 
has  wandered  far  from  the  gate,  ^  nor  has  he 
understood  the  nature  of  the  intellect  (natura  mentis).  Had  he 
sufficiently  considered  the  dilFerence  between  necessary  truths  or 
those  apprehended  by  demonstration,  and  those  which  become 
known  to  us  by  induction  alone,  —  he  would  have  seen  that  those 
which  are  necessary,  could  only  be  approved  to  us  by  principles 
native  to  the  mind  (menti  insitis)  ;  seeing  that  the  senses  indeed 
inform  us  what  may  take  place,  but  not  what  necessarily  takes 
place.     Locke  has  not  observed,  that  the  notions  of  being,  of  sub- 

1  Opera  Posthuma,  p.  391.  3  This  refers  to  Aristotle's  Metaphysics  [A 

2  P.  a58.  minor,  c.  i.  —Ed.] 


Lect.  XXXVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  517 

stance,  of  one  and  the  same,  of  the  true,  of  the  good,  and  many 
others,  are  innate  to  our  mind,  because  our  mind  is  innate  to  itself, 
and  finds  all  these  in  its  own  furniture.  It  is  true,  indeed,  that  there 
is  nothing  in  the  intellect  which  was  not  previously  in  the  sense, — 
except  the  intellect  itself "  lie  makes  a  similar  observation  in 
reference  to  Locke,  in  Letter  XL,  to  his  friend  Mr.  Burnet  of  Kern- 
nay.  ^  And  in  his  JVouveaiix  J^ssais  (a  detailed  refutation  of 
Locke's  Essay,  and  not  contained  in  the  collected  edition  of  his 
works  by  Dutens),  he  repeatedly  enforces  the  same  doctrine.    In  one 

place  he  says,-  —  "Hence   there  arises  another 

Leibnitz      further  .  .  •  n     ,       ,i  i  ^ 

question,  viz. :  Are  all  trutlis  dependent  on 
experience,  that  is  to  say,  on  induction  and  ex- 
amples? Or  are  there  some  which  have  another  foundation?  For 
if  some  events  can  be  foreseen  before  all  trial  has  been  made,  it  is 
manifest  that  we  contribute  something  on  our  part.  The  senses, 
although  necessary  for  all  our  actual  cognitions,  are  not,  however, 
competent  to  afford  us  all  that  cognitions  involve  ;  for  the  senses 
never  give  us  more  than  examples,  that  is  to  say,  particular  or  indi- 
vidual truths.  Now  all  the  examples,  which  confirm  a  general 
truth,  how  numerous  soever  they  may  be,  are  insufficient  to  estab- 
lish the  universal  necessity  of  this  same  truth ;  for  it  does  not  fol- 
low, that  what  has  happened  will  hai)j)en  always  in  like  manner. 
For  example :  the  Greeks  and  Romans  and  other  nations  have 
always  observed  that  during  the  course  of  twenty-four  hours,  day 
is  changed  into  night,  and  night  into  day.  But  we  should  be  wrong, 
were  we  to  believe  that  the  same  rule  holds  everywhere,  as  the 
contrary  has  been  observed  during  a  residence  in  Nova  Zembla. 
And  he  again  would  deceive  himself,  who  should  believe  that,  in 
our  latitudes  at  least,  this  was  a  truth  necessary  and  eternal ;  for  we 
ought  to  consider,  that  the  earth  and  the  sun  themselves  have  no 
necessary  existence,  and  that  there  will  perhaps  a  time  arrive  when 
this  fair  star  will,  with  its  whole  system,  have  no  longer  a  j)]ace  in 
creation,  —  at  least  under  its  present  form.  Hence  it  appears,  that 
the  necessary  truths,  such  as  we  find  them  in  Pure  Mathematics, 
and  particularly  in  Arithmetic  and  Geometry,  behoove  to  have  prin- 
ciples the  proof  of  which  does  not  depend  u])on  examples,  and, 
consequently,  not  on  the  evidence  of  sense ;  howbeit,  that  without 
the  senses,  we  should  never  have  found  occasion  to  call  them  into 
consciousness.  This  is  what  it  is  necessary  to  distinguish  accurately, 
and  it  is  what  Euclid  has  so  Avell  understood,  in  demonstrating  by 
reason   what   is   sufficiently  ai)j)arent   by  experience    and    sensible 

1  Optra,  vol.  vi.  p.  274  (edit.  Duteni).  2  Avant-propos,  p.  5  (edit.  Raspe). 


518  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVIIL 

images.  Logic,  likewise,  with  Metaphysics  and  Morals,  tlic  one  of 
which  constitutes  Natural  Theology,  the  other  Natural  Jurispru- 
dence, are  full  of  such  trutiis ;  and,  consequently,  their  proof  can 
only  be  derived  from  internal  principles,  which  we  call  innate.  It 
is  true,  that  we  ought  not  to  imagine  that  we  can  read  in  the  soul, 
these  eternal  laws  of  reason,  ad  aperturam  Hbri,  as  we  can  read  the 
edict  of  the  Prastor  without  trouble  or  research  ;  but  it  is  enousrh, 
that  we  can  discover  them  in  ourselves  by  dint  of  attention,  when 
the  occasions  are  presented  to  us  by  the  senses.  The  success  of  the 
observation  serves  to  confirm  reason,  in  the  same  way  as  proofs  serve 
in  Arithmetic  to  obviate  erroneous  calculations,  when  the  computa- 
tion is  long.  It  is  hereby,  also,  that  the  cognitions  of  men  differ 
from  those  of  beasts.  The  beasts  are  purely  empirical,  and  only 
regulate  themselves  by  examples;  for  as  far  as  we  can  judge,  they 
never  attain  to  the  formation  of  necessary  judgments,  whereas,  men 
are  capable  of  demonstrative  sciences,  and  herein  the  faculty  Avhich 
brutes  possess  of  drawing  inferences  is  inferior  to  the  reason  which 
is  in  men."  And,  after  some  other  observations,  he  jiroceeds: 
"Perhaps  our  able  autlior"  (he  refers  to  Locke)  "will  not  be  wholly 
alien  from  my  opinion.  For  after  having  employed  the  whole  of 
his  first  book  to  refute  innate  cognitions,  taken  in  a  certain  sense, 
he,  however,  avoAvs  at  the  commencement  of  the  second  and  after- 
wards, that  ideas  which  have  not  their  origin  in  Sensation,  come 
from  Reflection.  Now  reflection  is  nothing  else  than  an  attention 
to  what  is  in  use,  and  the  senses  do  not  inform  us  of  what  we  already 
carry  with  us.  This  being  the  case,  can  it  be  denied  that  there  is 
much  that  is  innate  in  our  mind,  seeing  that  we  are  as  it  were 
innate  to  ourselves,  and  that  there  are  in  us  existence,  unity,  sub- 
stance, duration,  change,  action,  perception,  pleasure,  and  a  thousand 
other  objects  of  our  intellectual  notions?  These  same  objects  being 
immediate,  and  always  present  to  our  understanding  (although  they 
are  not  always  pei'ceived  by  reason  of  our  distractions  and  our 
wants),  why  should  it  be  a  matter  of  wonder,  if  we  say  that  these 
ideas  are  innate  in  us,  with  all  that  is  dependent  on  them  ?  In 
illustration  of  this,  let  me  make  use  likewise  of  the  simile  of  a  block 
of  marble  which  has  veins,  rather  than  of  a  block  of  marble  wholly 
uniform,  or  of  blank  tablets,  that  is  to  say,  what  is  called  a  tabula 
rasa  by  philosophers  ;  for  if  the  mind  resembled  these  blank  tablets, 
truths  would  be  in  us,  as  the  figure  of  Hercules  is  in  a  jiiece  of  mar- 
ble, when  the  marble  is  altogether  indiflJerent  to  the  reception  of 
this  figure  or  of  any  other.  But  if  we  suppose  that  there  are  veins 
in  the  stone,  which  would  mark  out  the  figure  of  Hercules  by 
preference  to  other  figures,  this  stone  would  be  more  determined 


Lkct.  XXXVIII.  META.PIIYSrCS.  519 

thereunto,  aiul  Hercules  would  exist  there,  innately  in  a  certain 
sort ;  although  it  would  require  labor  to  discover  the  veins,  and  to 
clear  them  hy  polishing  and  the  removal  of  all  that  prevents  their 
manifestation.  It  is  thus  that  ideas  and  truths  are  innate  in  us ; 
like  our  inclinations,  disi)Ositions,  natural  habitudes  or  virtualities, 
and  not  as  actions  ;  although  these  virtualities  be  always  accom- 
panied by  some  corres]>ouding  actions,  frequently  however  unper- 
ceived. 

"It  seems  that  our  able  author  [Locke]  maintains,  that  there  is 
nothing  virtual  in  us,  and  even  nothing  of  which  we  are  [not] 
always  actually  conscious.  But  this  cannot  be  strictly  intended, 
for  in  that  case  his  opinion  would  be  paradoxical,  since  even  our 
acquired  hal)its  and  the  stores  of  our  memory  are  not  always  in 
actual  consciousness,  nay,  do  not  always  come  to  our  aid  when 
wanted  ;  Avhile  again,  we  often  call  them  to  mind  on  any  trilling 
occasion  Avhich  suggests  them  to  our  remembrance,  like  as  it  only 
requires  us  to  be  given  the  commencement  of  a  song  to  lielp  us  to 
the  recollection  of  the  rest.  He,  therefore,  limits  his  thesis  in  other 
places,  saying  that  there  is  at  least  nothing  in  us  which  we  have 
not,  at  some  time  or  other,  ac([uired  by  experience  an<l  perception." 
And  in  another  remarkable  i)assage,^  Leibnitz  says,  '-The  mind  is 
not  only  capable  of  knowing  ))ure  and  necessary  truths,  but  likewise 
of  discovering  them  in  itself;  and  if  it  possessed  only  the  simple 
capacity  of  receiving  cognitions,  or  the  passive  power  of  knowledge, 
as  indetermined  as  that  t)f  the  wax  to  receive  figures,  or  a  blank 
tablet  to  receive  letters,  it  would  not  be  the  source  of  necessary 
truths,  as  I  am  about  to  demonstrate  that  it  is:  for  it  is  incontest- 
able, that  the  senses  could  not  suthce  to  make  their  necessity  appar- 
ent, ami  that  the  intellect  has,  therefore,  a  disposition,  as  well  active 
as  passive,  to  draw  theni  from  its  own  l)osom,  although  the  senses 
be  requisite  to  i'liniisli  the  occasion,  and  the  attention  to  determine 
it  ui>on  some  in  preference  to  others.  You  see,  therefore,  these  \cvy 
able  philosophers,  who  are  of  a  ditlerent  opinion,  have  not  sufficiently 
reflected  on  the  consequence  of  the  difference  that  subsists  between 
necessary  or  eternal  truths  and  the  truths  of  experient-e,  as  I  have 
already  observed,  and  as  all  our  contestation  shows.  The  original 
proof  of  necessary  truths  comes  from  the  intellect  alone,  while  other 
truths  are  derived  from  experience  or  the  obstr\  ations  of  sense. 
Our  mind  is  competent  to  both  kinds  of  knowledge,  biit  it  is  itself 
the  source  of  tlie  former;  and  how  great  soever  maybe  the  iiuinb.r 
of  particular  experiences  in  sui»port  of  a  universal  truth,  we  sliouKl 
never  be  able  to  assure  ourselves  forever  of  its  universality  by  indue 

1  Nouieaux  E$saif,  p.  30  (edit.  Kanpo).     [L.  i.  i  5.  —  Ed.] 


r)20  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVUI. 

tion,  unless  we  knew  its  necessity  by  reason The 

senses  may  register,  justify,  and  confirm  these  truths,  but  not  dem- 
onstrate their  infallibility  and  eternal  certainty." 

And  in  speaking  of  the  faculty  of  such  truths,  he  says:  "It  is  not 
a  naked  faculty,  which  consists  in  the  mere  possibility  of  under- 
standing them  ;  it  is  a  disposition,  an  a])titude,  a  preformation,  which 
determines  our  mind  to  elicit,  and  which  causes  that  they  can  be 
elicited ;  precisely  as  there  is  a  difference  between  the  figures  which 
are  bestowed  indifferently  on  stone  or  marble,  and  those  which  veins 
mark  out  or  are  disposed  to  mark  out,  if  the  sculptor  avail  himself 
of  the  indications."^  I  have  quoted  these  passages  from  Leibnitz,, 
not  only  for  their  own  great  importance,  as  the  first  full  and  explicit 
enouncement,  and  certainly  not  the  least  able  illustrations,  of  one 
of  the  most  momentous  principles  in  philosopliy ;  but,  likewise,, 
because  the  Nouveaux  Essais^  from  which  they  are  i)rincii)ally 
extracted,  though  of  all  others  the  most  important  psychological 
work  of  Leibnitz,  was  wholly  unknown,  not  only  to  the  other  phi- 
losophers of  this  country,  but  even  to  Mr.  Stewart,  prior  to  the  last 
years  of  his  life.'* 

We  have  thus  seen  that  Leibnitz  was  the  first  philosopher  who 
explicitly  established  the  quality  of  necessity  as 

Reid  discriminated       the  criterion   of  distinction  between    empirical 

native  from  adventi-       ^j^^^  ^  priori  cognitions.     I  may,  however,  re- 

lous     now     g  mark,  what  is  creditable  to  Dr.  Reid's  sagacilv, 

the    same    diflerence,  '  .... 

independently  of  Leib-  that  he  founded  the  Same  discrimination  on  the 
nitz.  same  difference :    and  I  am  disposed  to  think, 

that  he  did  this  without  being  aware  of  his  coin- 
cidence with  Leibnitz ;  for  he  does  not  seem  to  have  studied  the 
system  of  that  philosopher  in  his  OAvn  woi-ks;  and  it  was  not  till 
Kant  had  shown  the  imi)ortance  of  the  criterion,  by  its  application 
in  his  hands,  that  the  attention  of  the  learned  was  called  to  the 
scattered  notices  of  it  in  the  writings  of  Leibnitz.  In  speaking  of 
the  principle  of  causality.  Dr.  Reid  says :  "  We  are  next  to  consider 
whether  we  may  not  leam  this  truth  from  experience,  —  That  effects 
which  have  all  the  marks  and  tokens  of  design,  must  proceed  from 
a  designing  cause." 

"  I  apprehend  that  we  cannot  leam  this  truth 

Reid  quoted.  .  „ 

from  experience,  tor  two  reasons. 
"Eirst,  Because  it  is  a  necessary  truth,  not  a  contingent  one.     It 

1  Nour.  Essais,  1.  i.  §  11.    See  above,  lect.  edition  of  the  works  of  Leibnitz  by  Dutens. 
xxix  p.  404. — Ed.  In  consequence  of  its  republication  in  Leib- 

2  The  reason  of  this  was,  that  it  was  not  nitzii  Opera   Philosophica,  by  Erdmann,  it  is 
published  till  long  after  the  death  of  its  au-  now  easily  procured. 

thor,  and  it  is  not  included  in  the  collected 


Lect.  XXXVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  521 

agrees  witli  the  experience  of  mankind  since  the  beginning  of  the 
world,  that  the  area  of  a  triangle  is  equal  to  half  the  rectunglo  under 
its  base  and  perpendicular.  It  agrees  no  less  with  experience,  that 
the  sun  rises  in  the  east  and  sets  in  the  west.  So  far  as  experience 
foes,  these  truths  are  upon  an  equal  footing.  But  every  man  per- 
ceives this  distinction  between  them,  —  that  the  first  is  a  necessary 
truth,  and  that  it  is  impossible  that  it  should  not  be  true;  but  the^ 
last  is  not  necessary,  but  contingent,  depending  upon  the  will  of 
Him  Avho  made  the  world.  As  avc  cannot  learn  from  exj)erience 
that  twice  three  mi;st  necessarily  make  six,  so  neither  can  we  learn 
from  experience  that  certain  effects  must  proceed  from  a  designing 
and  intelligent  cause.  Experience  informs  lis  only  of  what  has 
been,  but  never  of  Avhat  must  be."'^ 

An<I  in  speaking  of  our  belief  in  the  principle  that  an  effect  Tuan- 
ifesting  design  must  have  had  an  intelligent  cause,  he  says,  —  "It 
has  been  thought,  that,  although  this  principle  does  not  admit  of 
proof  from  abstract  reasoning,  it  may  be  proved  from  experience, 
and  may  be  justly  drawn  by  induction,  from  instances  that  fall  within 
our  observation. 

"I  conceive  this  method  of  jtroof  will  leave  us  in  great  uncer- 
tainty, for  these  three  reasons  : 

1st,  Because  the  proposition  to  be  proved  is  not  a  contingent  but 
a  necessari/  proj)ositiou.  It  is  not  that  things  which  begin  to  exist 
commonly  have  a  cause,  or  even  that  they  always  in  fact  have  a 
cause  ;  but  that  they  must  have  a  cause,  and  cannot  begin  to  exist 
without  a  cause. 

"Proi)ositions  of  this  kind,  from  their  nature,  are  incapable  of 
proof  by  induction.  Experience  informs  us  only  of  what  is  or  has 
been,  not  of  what  must  be  ;  and  the  conclusion  must  be  of  the  same 
nature  with  the  jiremises. 

"  For  this  reason,  no  mathematical  proposition  can  be  proved  by 
induction.  Tliougli  it  should  be  found  by  experience  in  a  thousand 
cases,  tliut  tlie  area  of  a  ])lain  triangle  is  equal  to  the  rectangle  under 
the  altitude  and  half  the  base,  this  woidd  not  ]M-ove  that  it  must  be 
so  in  all  cases,  and  cannot  be  otherwise ;  which  is  what  the  mathe- 
matician affirms. 

"In  like  manner,  though  we  had  the  most  ample  experimental 
proof,  that  things  which  had  begun  to  exist  had  a  cause,  this  would 
not  prove  that  they  must  have  a  cause.  Experience  may  show  wa 
what  is  the  established  course  of  nature,  but  can  never  show  what 
connections  of  things  are  in  their  nature  necessarv. 


1   Int.  Pou-rrs,  K?)=ay  vi.  cliaii   vi.     CoU.  ^york-s,  p  459 

66 


522  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVETI. 

2(ll)j^  General  maxims,  grounded  on  experience,  have  only  a  de- 
gree of  probability  proportioned  to  the  extent  of  our  experience, 
and  ought  always  to  be  understood  so  as  to  leave  room  for  excep- 
tions, if  future  experience  shall  discover  any  such. 

"  The  law  of  gravitation  has  as  full  a  proof  from  experience  and 
induction  as  any  princijile  can  be  supposed  to  have.  Yet,  if  any 
philosopher  should,  by  clear  experiment,  show  that  there  is  a  kind 
of  matter  in  some  bodies  which  does  not  srravitate,  the  law  of  irrav- 
itation  ought  to  be  limited  by  that  exception, 

"Now,  it  is  evident  that  men  have  never  considered  the  principle 
of  the  necessity  of  causes,  as  a  truth  of  this  kind  which  may  admit 
of  limitation  or  exception  ;  and  therefore  it  has  not  been  received 
upon  tliis  kind  of  evidence. 

"3<^?/y,  I  do  not  see  that  experience  could  satisfy  us  that  every 
change  in  nature  actually  has  a  cause. 

"  In  the  far  greatest  part  of  the  changes  in  nature  that  fall  within 
our  observation,  the  causes  are  unknown ;  and,  therefore,  from  expe- 
rience, we  cannot  know  whether  they  have  causes  or  not. 

"  Causation  is  not  an  object  of  sense.  The  only  experience  we 
€an  have  of  it,  is  in  the  consciousness  we  have  of  exertinsr  some 
power  in  ordering  our  thoughts  and  actions.  But  this  experi- 
■ence  is  surely  too  narrow  a  foundation  for  a  general  conclusion, 
that  all  things  that  have  had  or  shall  have  a  beginning,  must  have 
a  cause. 

"  For  these  reasons,  this  principle  cannot  be  drawn  from  experi- 
ence, any  more  than  from  abstract  reasoning."^ 

It  ought,  however  to  be  noticed  that  Mr.  Hume's  acuteness  had 
arrived  at  the   same  conclusion.      "As  to  past 

Hume  arrived  at  the  •  :5    u  i,  n  •,  ^  ^^  t 

,    .  experience,     he   observes,  "  it   can   be    allowed 

same  conclusion.  '    _  _ 

to  give  direct  and  certain  information  of  those 
precise  objects  only,  and  that  precise  period  of  time,  which  fell  under 
its  cognizance ;  but  why  this  experience  should  be  extended  to  future 
times  and  to  other  objects,  —  this  is  the  main  question  on  which  1 
would  insist."^ 

The  philosopher,  however,  who  has  best  known  how  to  turn  the 
criterion  to  account,  is  Kant ;  and  the  general  success  with  which 
he  has  applied  it,  must  be  admitted  even  by  those  who  demur  to 
many  of  the  particular  conclusions  which  his  philosophy  would 
establish. 

1  Tntellectvnl  Pou<er!i,'E&6&y\\.c\\Si^.\\.    Coll.  ji  Inquiry  concerning  the  Human  Understand' 

Worlcs,  jip.  455,  456.     Raid   has  several  other  ing,  §  iv.     Philosophical  Works,  vol  iv.  p.  42.  — 

passages  to  the  same  effect  in  the  same  chai>ter  Ed. 
of  this  Essay. 


J.KCT.   XXXVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  523 

Uut  though  it  be  now  generally  acknowledged,  by  the  profoundest 

thinkers,  that  it  is  impossible  to  analyze  all  out 

rhiiosophers  divid-       knowledge  into  the  produce  of  experience,  ex- 

ed  in  regard  to  what       ternal  or  internal,  and  that  a  certain  complement 

cognitions  ought  to  be       ^f  cognitions  must  be  allowed  as  having  their 

classed    as    ultimate,  »  .... 

and  what  as  modifica-       Origin   in  the  nature   of  the  thinking  principle 
tions  of  the  ultimate.         itsclf;   they  are  not  at   one  in  regard  to  those 

which  ouQ-ht  to  be  recounized  as  ultimate  and 
elemental,  and  those  which  ought  to  be  regarded  as  modifications 

or  combinations  of  these.     Reid  and   Stewart, 

Reid  and  Stewart       (the  foi'mer  in  particular),  have  been  considered 

have   been   censured       .^g  ^qq  gj^gy  [■^^  their  admission  of  primary  laws; 

for  their  too  easy  ad-  ,  .,  ^  ,         ,,  i  ,i      .    .i 

„ .  ,      .  and  It  must  be  allowed  that  the  censure,  in  some 

mission   of  first  priu-  _  ' 

cipies.  instances,  is  not  altogether  unmerited.     But  it 

ought  to  be  recollected,  that  those  who  thus 
agree  in  repi-ehension  are  not  in  unison  in  regard  to  the  grounds  of 
<?ensure  ;  and  they  wholly  forget  that  our  Scottish  philosophei-s  made 
no  pretension  to  a  final  analysis  of  the  primary  laws  of  human  rea- 
son,—  that  they  thought  it  enough  to  classify  a  certain  number  of 
eognitions  as  native  to  the  mind,  leaving  it  to  their  successors  to 

resolve  these  into  simjiler  elements.    "The  most 
Keid  quoted  in  self-       a;Qnorii\  iiha^nomcua,"  says  Dr.  IJeid,'  "we  can 

vindication.  ®  '  ..  ^  _  ^ 

reach,  are  what  we  call  Laws  ot  ^Nature.  So 
that  the  laws  of  nature  are  nothing  else  but  the  most  general  facts 
relating  to  the  operations  of  nature,  which  include  a  great  many 
particular  facts  under  them.  And  if,  in  any  case,  we  should  give  the 
name  of  a  law  of  nature  to  a  general  phaenomenon,  which  human 
industry  shall  afterwards  trace  to  one  more  general,  there  is  no  great 
harm  done.  The  most  sreneral  assumes  the  name  of  a  law  of  nature 
when  it  is  discovered  ;  and  the  less  general  is  contained  and  com- 
prehended in  it."  In  another  part  of  liis  work,  he  has  introduced 
the  s;inu'  remark,  "The  labyrinth  may  be  too  intricate,  and  the 
thread  too  fine,  to  be  tracetl  through  all  its  windings;  but,  if  we 
stoj>  where  we  can  trace  it  no  fiuther,  and  secure  the  grountl  wt- 
have  gained,  there  is  no  haiin  done ;  a  quicker  eye  may  in  time 
trace  it  further."-     Tlie  same  view  h:is  been  likewise  well  stated  by 

Mr.  Stewart.'^  "In  all  the  other  sciences,  the 
Stewart  quoted  to  .^    .^^^  ^,f  .lisoovcrv  has  been  gradual,  fi-om  the 

the  same  effect  i        r^  .  "    i  <» 

less  ireneral  to  the  more  general  laws  of  nature ; 
and  it  would  be  singul.tr  indeed,  if,  in  this  science,  which  but  a  few 

1   /niyuiM/,  chap.  vi.  5  13,  H'ortv  p  Hv?  —  En.  3   Phllnsnphlrnl  Essnyx,  Trcl.  Diiw.C.  i.  Works. 

a  Inquiry  into  the   Human   Minri,  c.  i.   §  2.      vol   v.  p   13      Cf.  FJcmrnif,  vol.  i.  C  v.  p.  2,  i 
Works,  p.  99.  —  Ed.  4.     Works,  vol   ii.  pp  342,  348.  —  Ed. 


o2-±  METAPHYSICS  Lect.  XXXVIU 

years  ago  was  confessedly  in  its  infancy,  and  which  certainly  labors 
under  many  disadvantages  peculiar  to  itself,  a  step  should  all  at 
once  be  made  to  a  single  princi2>le,  comprehending  all  the  particular 
phaenomena  which  we  know.  As  the  order  established  in  the  intel- 
lectual world  seems  to  be  regulated  by  laws  analogous  to  those 
vvhich  wc  trace  among  the  ph.'vnomena  of  the  material  system ;  and 
as  in  all  our  philosophic-il  inquiries  (to  whatever  subject  they  may 
\-elate)  the  progress  of  tliC  mmd  is  liable  to  be  affected  by  the  same 
tendency  to  a  premature  generalization,  the  following  extract  from 
an  eminent  chemical  writer  may  contribute  to  illustrate  the  scope 
and  to  confirm  the  justness  of  some  of  the  foregoing  reflections. 
'  Within  the  last  fifteen  or  twenty  years,  several  new  metals  and 
new  earths  have  been  made  known  to  the  world.  The  names  that 
support  these  discoveries  are  respectable,  and  the  experiments  de- 
cisive. If  we  do  not  give  our  assent  to  them,  no  single  proposition 
in  chemistry  can  for  a  moment  stand.  But  whether  all  these  are 
really  sim])le  substances,  or  compounds  not  yet  resolved  into  their 
elements,  is  what  the  authors  themselves  cannot  possibly  assert; 
nor  would  it,  in  the  least,  diminish  the  merit  of  their  observations, 
if  future  ex})eriments  should  prove  them  to  have  been  mistaken,  as. 
to  the  simplicity  of  these  substances.  This  remark  should  not  be 
confined  to  later  discoveries;  it  may  as  justly  be  applied  to  those 
earths  and  metals  with  which  we  have  been  long  acquainted.'  '  In 
the  dark  ages  of  chemistry,  the  object  was  to  rival  nature ;  and  the 
substance  which  the  adepts  of  those  days  were  busied  to  create,  was 
universally  allowed  to  be  simple.  In  a  more  enlightened  period,  we 
have  extended  our  inquiries  and  multiplied  the  number  of  the 
elements.  The  last  task  will  be  to  simplify ;  and  by  a  closer  obser- 
vation of  nature,  to  learn  from  what  a  small  store  of  primitive 
materials,  all  that  we  behold  and  wonder  at  was  created.'" 

That  the  list  of  the  primary  elements  of  human  reason,  which  our 
two  philosophers  have  given,  has  no  pretence  to 

That  Keid  and  Stew-  i  i  ^i     i  ^i  •       •    i  i  •    t.   -^  j_    • 

order :  and  that  the  principles  which  its  contams 

art  offer  no  systematic  .         *  ' 

deduction  of  the  pri-  ^^6  not  Systematically  deduced  by  any  ambitious 
tnary  elements  of  hu-  proccss  of  metaphysical  ingenuity,  is  no  valid 
man  reason,  is  no  valid       ground  of  disparagement.     In  fact,  which  of  the 

ground   for  disparage  t      i        •/>        •  />     i  ...  , 

ine  their  labors  vaunted  classifications  oi  these  primitive  truths 

can  stand  the  test  of  criticism  ?  The  most  cele- 
brated, and  by  far  the  most  ingenious,  of  these, — the  scheme  of 
Kant,  —  though  the  truth  of  its  details  may  be  admitted,  is  no 
longer  regarded  as  affording  either  a  necessary  deduction  or  a 
natural  arrangement  of  our  native  cognitions ;  and  the  reduction  of 
these  to  system  still  remains  a  problem  to  be  resolved. 


Lkct.  XXXVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  525 

In  point  of  fact,  philosophers  have  not  yet  purified  the  antecedent 

conditions  of  the  problem,  —  have  not  yet  estab- 

PhiioBopbers   have       ^^^^^^^^  ^j^^  principles  on  which  its  solution  OUi^ht 

not  vet  establislieil  the  ^  '  ° 

principle  ou  which  our  to  be  undertaken.  And  here  I  would  solicit 
ultimate  cognitions  your  attention  to  a  circumstance,  wliich  shows 
are   to   be  classified,       j^^^.  j^^^.  plalosopliers  are  Still  removed  from  the 

and  reduced  to  system.  i.-        ^        i      •   •  t,     •  i 

prospect  ot  an  ultmiate  decision.  It  is  agreed, 
that  the  quality  of  necessity  is  that  which  discriminates  a  native 
from  an  adventitious  element  of  knowledge.  When  we  find,  there- 
fore, a  cognition  which  contains  this  discriminative  quality,  we  are 
entitled  to  lay  it  down  as  one  which  could  not  have  been  obtained 
as  a  generalization  from  experience.  This  I  admit.  But  when 
philosophers  lay  it  down  not  only  as  native  to  the  mind,  but  as  a 
positive  and  immediate  datum  of  an  intellectual  power,  I  demur. 

It  is  evident  that  the  quality  of  necessity  in  a 
Necessity  -either       coguitiou    mav  depend    on    two    difrereut     and 

Tositive,  or  Negative,  ^       _  .    "  .  . 

as  it  results  irom  a  Opposite   j)rinciples,  inasmuch  as  it  may  either 

power,  or  from  a  pow-  be  the  result  of  a  power,  or  of  a  powerlessness, 

eriessne^s  of  mind.  ^^^  ^j^^  thinking  principle.     In  the  one  case,  it 

The  first  order  of  will   be    a   Positive,  in    the    other  a  Negative, 

Necessity,— the  Posi-  ncccssitv.     Let  US  take  examples  of  these  oppo- 

tive,  — illustrated,    bv  .  *  ^  ... 

the  act  of  Perception.       ^^te  cases.      In  an  act  of  perceptive  conscious- 

nes.s,  I  think,  and  cannot  but  think,  that  I  and 
that  something  diiforent  from  me  exist,  —  in  other  words,  that  my 
perception,  as  a  modification  of  the  ego,  exists,  and  that  the  object 
of  my  perception,  as  a  modification  of  the  non-ego,  exists.  In  these 
<.nrcumstances,  I  pronounce  Existence  to  be  a  native  cognition, 
because  I  find  that  I  cannot  think  except  under  the  condition  of 
thinkinir  all  that  I  am  conscious  of  to  exist.  Existence  is  thus  a 
form,  a  category  of  thought.  But  here,  thougli  I  cannot  but  think 
existence,  I  am  conscious  of  this  thought  as  an  act  of  power,  —  an 
act  of  intellectual  force.  It  is  the  result  of  strength,  and  not  of 
weakness. 

In   like   manner,  when  I  think  2x2  =  4,  the  thought,  though 
inevitable,  is  not  felt  as  an  imbecility;  we  know 

J4y  an    arithmetical         .  ^  i     •       ...i  x-  'i'  a.\        a       .i 

It  as  true,  and,  in  the  percciition  ot  the  truili, 

example  '  '  ^  ' 

though  the  act  be  necessary,  the  mind  is  con- 
scious that  the  necessity  does  not  arise  from  im])Otence.  (^n  the 
contrary,  we  attribute  the  same  necessity  to  God.  Here,  therefoiv, 
there  is  a  class  of  natural  cognitions,  which  we  may  properly  view 
as  so  many  positive  exertions  of  the  mental  vigor,  and  the  cognition> 
of  this  class  we  consider  as  Positive.  To  this  class  will  belong  the 
notion  of  Existence  and  its  modifications,  the  principles  of  Identity, 


526  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXVIIL 

and  Contradiction,  and  Excluded  Middle,  the  intuitions  of  Space 
and  Time,  etc. 

But  besides  these,  there  are  other  necessary  forms  of  thought, 

which,  by  all  philosophers,  have  been  regarded 

The  second  order  of       .jg  standing  precisely  on  the  same  footing,  which 

necessity, -the  Nega-  ^^  ^^^  ^^^^_^^  ^^  ^^  ^^.  ^^^  ^^^^j,.  jjg.^,j.^,^^  j.j,^j  j^ 
tive.    This  not  recog-  _  •^ 

nized  by  philosophers.  place  of  being  the  result  of  a  j)ower,  the  neces- 
sity which  belongs  to  them  is  merely  a  conse- 
quence of  the  impotence  of  our  fiiculties.  But  if  this  be  the  case, 
nothing  could  be  more  unphilosophical  than  to  arrogate  to  these 
negative  inabilities,  the  dignity  of  positive  energies.  Evciy  rule  of 
philosophizing  would  be  violated.  The  law  of  Parcimony  pre- 
scribes, that  principles  are  not  to  be  multiplied  without  necessity, 
and  that  an  hypothetical  force  be  not  j^ostulated  to  explain  a  phae- 
nomenon  which  can  be  better  accounted  for  by  an  admitted  impo- 
tence. The  jihsenomenon  of  a  heavy  body  rising  from  the  earth, 
may  warrant  us  in  the  assumption  of  a  special  power ;  but  it  would 
surely  be  absurd  to  devise  a  special  power  (that  is,  a  power  besides 
gravitation)  to  explain  the  pha3nomenon  of  its  descent. 

Now,  that  the  imbecility  of  the  human  mind  constitutes  a  great 

negative  principle,  to  which  sundry  of  the  most 

important   phrenomena  of  intelligence  may  be 

referred,  appears  to  me  incontestable  ;  and  though  the  discussion  is 

one  somewhat  abstract,  I  shall  endeavor  to  give  you  an  insight  into 

the  nature  and  application  of  this  principle. 

I  begin  by  the  statement  of  certain   principles,  to  which  it  is 

necessary  in  the  sequel  to  refer. 

Principles  referred  The  highest  of  all  logical  laws,  in  other  words 

to  in  the  discussion.  ^he  Supreme  law  of  thought,  is  what  is  called 

1.  The  Law  of  >;ou-       the  principle  of  Contradiction,  or  moi'e  correctly 

Contradiction.  the  principle  of  Non- Contradiction. ^    It  is  this: 

A  thing  cannot  be  and  not  be  at  the  same  time, 

—  Alpha  esi,  Alpha  non  est^  ai-e  propositions  which  cannot  both  be 
true  at  once.     A  second  fundamental  law  of  thought,  or  rather  the 

principle  of  Contradiction   viewed  in  a  certain 
,  A  .  «• .  n^  ^   ^^        as])ect,  is  called  the  principle  of  Excluded  Mid- 

cluded  Middle.  ^         '  ^  ' 

die,  or,  more  fully,  the   principle  of  Excluded 
Middle  between  two  Contradictories.     A  thing  either  is  or  it  is  not, 

—  Aut  est  Alpha  aut  non  est;  there  is  no  medium;  one  must  be 
true,  both  cannot.  These  principles  require,  indeed  admit  of,  no 
proof.     They  prove  everything,  but  are  proved  by  nothing.     When 

1  See  Appendix,  II.  —  Ed. 


Lkct.  XXXVm.  METAPHYSICS.  527 

I,  therefore,  have  occasion  to  speak  of  these  laws  by  name,  you  wall 
know  to  what  principle  I  refer. 

Now,  then,  I  lay  it  down  as  a  law  which,  though  not  generalized 

by  ])hilosophers,  can  be  easily  proved  to  be  true 

Grand     law     of      by  its  application  to  the  phainoniena  :     That  all 

thought,— That     the       ^j^^^  jg  conceivable  in  thought,  lies  between  two 

conceivable     lies    be-  i  •   i  .        t    .  r-  -i        ^-i 

.     ,.         extremes,  winch,  as  contradictory  oi  each  other, 

tween  two  coutrauic-  '  '  •'  ' 

tory  extremes.  cannot  both  be  true,  but  of  which,  as  mutual 

contradictories,  one  must.  For  example,  we 
conceive  space,  —  Ave  cannot  but  conceive  space.  I  admit,  therefore, 
that  Space,  indefinitely,  is  a  positive  and  necessary  form  of  thought. 

But  when  philosophers  convert  the  fact,  that  we 
Established  and  ii-       cannot  but  tliink  space,  oi-,  to  express  it  differ- 

lustrated,  by  reference  ^i       .i     ^  i_i       i       ■      „    •    ^ ii  •    _ 

'  '  entlv,  that  we  are  unable  to  nnaguie  anythincr 

to    Space,  — 1°,    as    a  •' '  .  o  .?  o 

Maximum.  <>^^  of  spacc, —  when  i)hilosopliers,  I  say,  convert 

this  fiict  with  the  assertion,  that  we  have  a  no- 
tion,—  a  positive  notion,  of  absolute  or  of  infinite  space,  they  assume,, 
not  only  what  is  not  contained  in  the  pha-nomenon,  nay,  they  assume 
what  is  the  very  reverse  of  what  the  ph;enomenon  manifests.     It  is 

])lain,  that  space  must  either  be  bounded  or  not 
Space  either  bounded       i^Q^.^^^ed.     Thcsc  are  contradictorv  alternatives  ; 

or  not  bounded.  _     *  ^ 

on  the  principle  of  Contradiction,  they  caimot 
both  be  true,  and,  on  the  principle  of  Excluded  Middle,  one  must 
be  true.     This  cannot  be  denied,  Avithout  denying  the  primary  laws 
of  intelligence.     I>ut  though  sjiace  must  be  admitted  to  be  neces- 
sarily either  finite  or  infinite,  we  are  able  to  conceive  the  possibility 
neither  of  its  finitude,  nor  of  its  infinity. 
We  are  altogether  unable  to  conceive  space  as  bounded,  —  as  finite)' 
that  is,  as  a  whole  beyond  which  there  is  no  fur' 
.'Space  as  absoiuieiy       ^j^^^.      .^^^.^     Every  one  is  conscious  th.it  this  is 

bounded     inconceiva-         .  --i  ,  t  t  i  i 

^jg  nnpossible.     It  contradicts  also  the  supjiositiou 

of  space  as  a  necessary  notion  ;  for  if  we  could 
imagine  space  as  a  terminated  sphere,  and  that  sjihere  not  itself 
enclosed  in  a  surrounding  sjiace,  we  should  not  be  obliged  to  think 
everything  in  .space;  and,  on  the  contrary,  if  Ave  did  imagine  this  ter- 
minated sphere  as  itself  in  space,  in  that  case  Ave  should  not  h.ive 
actually  conceived  all  space  as  abounded  Avhole.  The  one  contradic- 
tory is  thus  found  inconceivable ;  Ave  cannot  conceive  space  as  posi- 
tively limited. 

On  the  other  hand,  Ave  are  equally  jiowerless  to  realize  in  thought 
the  possibility  of  the  opposite  contradictory;  Ave  cannot  conceive 
space  as  infinite,  as  Avithout  limits.  You  may  launch  out  in  thought 
beyond  the  solar  walk,  you  may  transcend  in  fancy  even  the  universe 


528  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XXXVIIL 

of  matter,  and  rise  from  sphere  to  sphere  in  the  region  of  empty 

space,  until  imagination  sinks  exhausted ;  —  with 
Space  as  infinitely       ^-^l  this  what  have  you  done  ?     You  have  never 

uubounded  inconceiv-  ,  -,     i       n    •  i  •        t        i 

^jjjg  gone  beyond  the  nnite,  you  have  attamed  at  best 

only  to  the  indefinite,  and  the  indefinite,  how- 
ever expanded,  is  still  always  the  finite.  As  Pascal  enei-getically 
says,  "Inflate  our  conceptions  as  Ave  may,  with  all  the  finite  possible 
we  cannot  make  one  atom  of  the  infinite."^  "The  infinite  is  infin- 
itely incomprehensible."-  Now,  then,  both  con- 
Thowgh  botii  tiiese  tradictories  are  equally  inconceivable,  and  could 
contradictory  aiterna-       ^^  jj^^^-^  ^^^^.  attention  to  onc  alone,  wc  should 

tives    are    inconceiva-  _  ...  .  .,  ,  ,      ,  -,  -, 

. ,  „     .    „.       deem  it  at  once  impossible  and  absurd,  and  sup- 

ble,  one  or  other  is  yet  ^  _  . 

necessary.  posc  its  uiiknown  opposite  as  necessarily  true. 

But  as  we  not  only  can,  but  are  constrained  to 
consider  both,  we  find  that  both  are  equally  incomprehensible ;  and 
yet,  though  unable  to  view  either  as  possible,  we  are  forced  by  a 
higher  law  to  admit  that  one,  but  one  only,  is  necessary. 

That   the    conceivable   lies   always   between   two   inconceivable 

extremes,  is  illustrated  by  every  other  relation 

Space,  20,  as  a  Mini-       ^^  thought.     We  have  found  the  maximum  of 

mum.  .  1  .1  1  1         J  • 

space  incomprehensible,  can  we  comprehend  its 
minimum?  This  is  equally  impossible.  Here,  likewise,  we  recoil 
from  one  inconceivable  contradictory  only  to  infringe  upon  another. 
Let  us  take  a  portion  of  space  however  small,  we  can  never  con- 
ceive it  as  the  smallest.  It  is  necessarily  ex- 
An  absolute  mini-  tended,  and  may,  consequently,  be  divided  into 
mumo  space,  an   1         ^  ^^^^  ^^,  quarters,  and  each  of  these  halves  or 

infinite       divisibility,  ^  ' 

alike  inconceivable.  quarters  may  again  be  divided  into  other  halves 

or  quarters,  and  this  ad  injinitwn.  But  if  we 
are  unable  to  construe  to  our  mind  the  possibility  of  an  absolute 
minimum  of  space,  we  can  as  little  represent  to  ourselves  the  possi- 
bility of  an  infinite  divisibility  of  any  extended  entity. 

In  like  manner  Time ;  —  this  is  a  notion  even  more  universal 

than  space,  for  while  we  exempt  from  occupying 

Further  illustration       gpace  the  energies  of  mind,  we  are  unable  to 

by  reference  to  Time;  ,  ,  ""  .  ^.  rrii_ 

-1°,  as  a  Maximum.         conccive  these  as  not  occupying  time.      Ihus, 

we  think  everything,  mental  and  material,  as 
in  time,  and  out  of  time  we  can  think  nothing.  But,  if  we  attempt 
to  comprehend  time,  either  in  whole  or  in  part,  we  find  that  thouglit 

1  Pensees,  Premiere  Partie,  art.  iv.  l,(vol.  ii.  des  atomes,  au  prix  de  lar§alit6  des  choses." 

p.  64  Faugere.)    Pascal's  words  are :  —  "Nous  — Ed. 

avons  beau  eufler  nos  conceptions  au  deli  des  2  Ibid.  Sec.  Part.,  art.  iii.  1.  — Eji, 
«8paces  imaginables;    nous  n'enfantons  que 


Lect.  XXXVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  529 

is  hedged  in  between  two  incomprehensibles.  Let  us  try  the  whole. 
And  here  let  lis  look  back, — let  us  dbnsidcr  time  a  i)arte  ante.. 

And  here  we   may  surely  flatter  ourselves  that 
I.  Time,  apartertnte,       ^.^  shall  be  able  to  conccive  time  as  a  whole, 

:as  an  absolute  whole,         ^        i  i  »  •     t    i  i     i    i 

inconceivable  ^^'*  "^''^  "^'^   havc  the  past  period  bounded  by 

the  pi-esent ;  the  past  cannot,  therefore,  be 
infinite  or  eternal,  for  a  bounded  infinite  is  a  contradiction.  But 
we  shall  deceive  ourselves.  AVe  are  altogether  unable  to  conceive 
time  as  commencing;  we  can  easily  represent  to  ourselves  time 
under  any  relative  limitation  of  commencement  and  termination, 
but  we  are  conscious  to  ourselves  of  nothing  more  clearly,  than  that 
it  would  be  equally  possible  to  tliink  without  thought,  as  to  con- 
strue to  the  mind  an  absolute  commencement,  or  an  absolute  termi- 
nation, of  time,  that  is,  a  beginning  and  an  end  beyond  which,  time 
is  conceived  as  non-existent.  Goad  imagination  to  the  utmost,  it 
still  sinks  paralyzed  within  the  bounds  of  time,  and  time  survives 
as  the  condition  of  the  thought  itself  in  which  we  annihilate  the 

universe.     On  the  other  hand,  the  concept  of 
2.  Time,  as  an  infinite         ^^^  ^-^^^  ^^  without  limit,  —  witliout  commence- 

regress,  inconceivable.         '  ,  n       .  -i  i  -vt-t 

ment,  is  equally  impossible.  v\  e  cannot  con- 
ceive the  infinite  regress  of  time ;  for  such  a  notion  could  only  be 
realized  by  the  infinite  addition  in  thought  of  finite  times,  and  such 
an  addition  would  itself  require  an  eternity  for  its  accomplishment. 
If  we  dream  of  eftecting  this,  we  only  deceive  ourselves  by  substi- 
tutins:  the  indefinite  for  the  infinite,  than  which  no  two  notions  can 
"be  more  opposed.  The  negation  of  a  commencement  of  time 
involves,  likewise,  the  aflirmation,  that  an  infinite  time  has,  at  every 
moment,  already  run ;  that  is,  it  implies  the  contradiction,  that  an 

infinite    has    been    completed.      For   the    same 
3.  Time,  as  an  inti-       rcasous,  we  are  Unable  to  conceive  an  infinite 

nite    progress,   incon-  .  i  -i        i       •    i'    •.  i 

.    .,  i)ro<zress  of  time;  while  the  infinite  regress  and 

ceivable  1       c^  '  _    => 

the  infinite  ju-ogress  taken  together,  involve  the 
triple  contradiction  of  an  infinite  concluded,  of  an  infinite  com- 
mencing, and  of  two  infinities,  not  exclusive  of  each  other. 

Now  take  the  parts  of  time,  —  a  moment,  for 
Time,  2^,  as  a  Mini-       instance  ;  this  we  must  conceive,  as  either  divi.si- 

muin.      Till-    iiionuMit         ,  ,  .     ,,    .  .!,".•  i  c  *    : 

^  ..        ...       ,.  .  .        ble  to  infinity,  or  that  it  is  made  up  ot  certain 

of   time  either  ilivisi-  •'  ' 

ble  to  iiiiinitv,  ..r  com-  absolutely  smallest  parts.  One  or  other  of  these 
posed  of  certain  abso-  contradictories  must  be  tlie  case.  But  cacli  is, 
luteiy  smallest  parts.       ^^  ^^^^  cquallv  inconceivable.     Timc  is  a  proten- 

Both   alternatives    in-  ,  ,  i      e  '* 

oonceivabie.  sivc  quantity,  and,  consequently,  any  part  ol  it, 

however  small,  cannot,  without  a  contradiction, 
be    imacrined    as    not    divisible    into    parts,  and    these   parts  into 

G7 


530  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXXVIIt 

others  ad  infinitmn.  But  the  opposite  alternative  is  equally  impos- 
sible ;  we  cannot  think  this  infinite  division.  One  is  necessarily 
true ;  but  neither  can  be  conceived  possible.  It  is  on  the  inability 
of  the  mind  to  conceive  either  the  ultimate  indivisibility,  or  the  end- 
less divisibility  of  space  and  time,  that  the  arguments  of  the  Eleatic 
Zeno  against  the  possibility  of  motion  are  founded,  —  arguments 
which  at  least  show,  that  motion,  however  certain  as  a  fact,  cannot 
be  conceived  possible,  as  it  involves  a  contradiction. 

The  same  principle  could  be   shown  in  various  other  relations, 

but  what  I  have  now  said  is,  I  presume,  sufli- 

This  grand  principle       cient  to  make  you  understand  its  import.     Now 

called  the  Law-of  the       )^\^q  jaw  of  mind,  that  the  conceivable  is  in  every 

Conditioned.  relation  bounded  bv  the  inconceivable,  I  call  the 

The  counter  opinion  ".  -n    ^     i 

founded  on  vagueness  L'^w  ot  the  Conditioned.  1  ou  will  find  many 
and  confusion.  philosophers  wlio  hold  an  opinion  the  reverse 

of  this,  —  maintaining  that  the  absolute  is  a 
native  or  necessary  notion  of  intelligence.  This,  I  conceive,  is  an 
opinion  founded  on  vagueness  and  confusion.  They  tell  us  we  hava 
a  notion  of  absolute  or  infinite  space,  of  absolute  or  infinite  time. 
But  they  do  not  tell  us  in  which  of  the  opposite  contradictories  this 
notion  is  realized.  Though  these  are  exclusive  of  each  other,  and 
though  both  are  only  negations  of  the  conceivable  on  its  opposite 
poles,  they  confound  together  these  exclusive  inconceivables  into  a 
single  notion ;  suppose  it  positive,  and  baptize  it  with  the  name  of 

absolute.  The  sum,  therefore,  of  what  I  have 
Sum  of  the  author's       ^^^^^   f^iaiinX   is,   that   the    Conditioned   is   that 

which  is  alone  conceivable  or  cogitable;  the 
Unconditioned,  that  which  is  inconceivable  or  incogitable.  The 
conditioned  or  the  thinkable  lies  between  two  extremes  or  poles; 
and  these  extremes  or  poles  are  each  of  them  unconditioned,  each 
of  them  inconceivable,  each  of  them  exclusive  or  contradictory  of 
the  other.  Of  these  two  repugnant  opposites,  the  one  is  that  of 
Unconditional  or  Absolute  Limitation ;  the  other  that  of  Uncon- 
ditional or  Infinite  Illimitation.  The  one  we  may,  therefore,  in 
general  call  the  Absolutely  Unconditioned,  the  other,  the  Infinitely 
Unconditioned;  or,  more  simply,  the  Absolute  and  the  Infinite; 
the  term  absolute  expressing  that  which  is  finished  or  complete,  the 
term  infinite  that  which  cannot  be  terminated  or  concluded.  These 
terms,  which,  like  the  Absolute  and  Infinite  themselves,  philosophers 
have  confounded,  ought  not  only  to  be  distinguished,  but  opjtosed 
as  contradictory.  The  notion  of  neither  unconditioned  is  negative: 
—  the  absolute  and  the  infinite  can  each  only  be  conceived  as  a 
negation  of  the  thinkable.     In  other  words,  of  the  absolute  and 


Lect.  XXXVIII.  METAPHYSICS.  531 

infinite  we  liave  no  conception  at  all.  On  the  subject  of  the  uncon- 
ditioned,—  the  absolute  and  infinite,  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  at 
present  further  to  dilate. 

I  shall  only  add  in  conclusion,  that,  as  this  is  the  one  true,  it  is 
the  only  orthodox,  inference.     We  must  believe 
The  author's  doctrine       j,^  ^]^^^  infinity  of  God  ;  but  the  infinite  God  can- 
both  the  one  true  and       ^^^^  ,  .^^  ^j^^  present  limitation  of  our  facul- 

the  only  orthodox  m-  ./         '  i  •        i  »     t-v    • 

fgreuce  ties,  be  comprehended  or  conceived.     A  Deity 

understood,  would  be  no  Deity  at  all ;  and  it  is 
blasphemy  to  say  that  God  only  is  as  we  are  able  to  think  Him  to 
be.  We  know  God,  according  to  the  finitude  of  our  faculties;  but 
we  believe  much  that  we  are  incompetent  properly  to  know.  The 
Infinite,  the  infinite  God,  is  what,  to  use  the  words  of  Pascal,  is 
infinitely  inconceivable.  Faith, — Belief,  —  is  the  organ  by  which 
we  appiehend  what  is  beyond  our  knowledge.  In  this  all  Divines 
and  Philosophers,  worthy  of  the  name,  are  found  to  coincide ;  and 
the  few  who  assert  to  man  a  knowledge  of  the  infinite,  do  this  on 
the  daring,  the  extravagant,  the  paradoxical  supposition,  either  that 
Human  Reason  is  identical  with  the  Divine,  or  that  Man  and  the 
Absolute  are  one. 

The  assertion  has,  however,  sometimes  been  hazarded,  through  a 

mere  mistake  of  the  object  of  knowledge  or  con- 

To  assert  that  the  in-       ^.^^  ti^^  .  .^g  if  that  could  be  an  object  of  knowl- 

finite  can  be  thought,  ^  '  _  "^ 

but  only  inade(iuateiy       edge,  whicli  was  not  kuown  ;  as  if  that  could  be 
thongiit.  is  confradic-       ^^  object  of  Conception  which  was  not  conceived. 

»orv.  "^  ^ 

It  has  been  held,  that  the  infinite  is  known  or 
conceived,  though  only  a  part  of  it  (and  every  part,  be  it  observed, 
is  ij)s(>  fdcto  ^n\i{.')  can  be  apprehended;  and  Aristotle's  definition 
of  the  infinite  has  been  adopted  by  those  who  disregard  his  declara- 
tion, that  the  infinite,  (jua  infinite,  is  beyond  the  reach  of  human 
understanding.'  To  say  that  the  infinite  can  be  thought,  l)iit  oidy 
inadequately  thought,  is  a  contradiction  /;/  adjecto  ;  it  is  the  s.in\e 
as  saying,  that  the  infinite  can  be  known,  but  only  known  as  finite. 
The  Scri|)tures  exi)licitly  declare  that  the  infinite  is  for  us  now 
incognizable;  —  they  declare  that  the  finite,  and  the  finite  alone,  is 
witliin  our  reach.  It  is  said  (to  cite  one  text  out  of  many),  that 
'■'■  )(Oic  I  Vnow  in  part"  {i.e.  the  finite)  ;  "but?At/t"  {i.e.  in  the  life  to 
come)  "shall  I  know  even  as  I  am  known"-  (t.  e  .without  limitation).' 

1  Phys.  i.  4,  6  (Rekkcr):   Tb  ^fc  &trf tpof  17  oXov  and  Tf\fiov;   for  it  is  added  ;— 05  8i 

dTrftpov  S.-yfttXTTot'.       Tlie   definition    occurs,  fnqSff    ?{£«>, *  tovt'    iffrl    rtKfiov   Koi    8Kot 

Phys.  iii.  6,  11 :  "Airapov  fxiv  ovu   i(n\v  ov  See  UMcu-vwoni,  p.  27.  —  Ed. 
Kara.     -Koa'ov     Kaix^ivovffiv    aUi    n    Aa/Sf?^  "  ^  CorinMa,,.^,  xiii.  12. 

V  ^,  .       ^  3     ,  3  See  ApixudviL,  HI— Ed. 

KTTij'  f^u.    To  the   aTTftpoy    is   opposed   the 


LECTURE    XXXIX. 

THE  REGULATIVE  FACULTY.  — LAW  OF   THE   CONDITIONED,  IN 
ITS   APPLICATIONS.  —  CAUSALITY. 

I   HAVE    been  desirous  to  exj^lain   to  you  the  principle  of  the 

Conditioned,  as  out  of  it  we  are  able  not  only 

Law  of  the  Condi-       ^^  explain  the  hallucination  of  the  Absolute,  but 

tioined  in  its  applica- 
tions, to  solve  some  of  the  most  momentous,  and  hith- 
erto most  puzzling,  problems  of  mind.  In  par- 
ticular, this  principle  affords  us,  I  think,  a  solution  of  the  two  great 
intellectual  principles  of  Cause  and  Effect,  and  of  Substance  and 
Phajnomenon  or  Accident.  Both  are  only  applications  of  the  prin- 
ciple of  the  Conditioned,  in  different  relations. 

Of  all  questions  in  the  history  of  philosophy,  that  concerning  the 
nature  and  genealogy  of  the  notion  of  Causality, 

ausaiy—tieprob-       j     perhaps,  the  most  famous;  and  I  shall  en- 

lem,  and  attempts  at  ^  '^        ,  ' 

•oiution.  deavor  to  give  you  a   comprehensive,  though 

necessarily  a  very  summary,  view  of  the  prob- 
lem, and  of  the  attempts  which  have  been  made  at  its  solution. 
This,  however  imperfect  in  detail,  may  not  be  without  advantage ; 
for  there  is  not,  as  far  as  I  am  aware,  in  any  work  a  generalized 
survey  of  the  various  actual  and  possible  opinions  on  the  subject. 
But  before  proceeding  to  consider  the  different  attempts  to 
explain  the   phaenomenon,  it  is  proper  to  state 

The  phenomenon  of  i    x        n    ^  •  i  i  i  i 

Causality  —what.  ^  determine  what  the  phaenomenon  to  ba 

explained  really  is.  Nor  is  this  superfluous,  for 
we  shall  find  that  some  philosophers,  instead  of  accommodating 
their  solutions  to  the  problem,  have  accommodated  the  problem  to 
their  solutions. 

^When  we  are  aware  of  something  which  begins  to  be,  we  ai-e, 
by  the  necessity  of  our  intelligence,  constrained  to  believe  that  it 
has  a  Cause.  But  what  does  the  expression,  that  it  has  a  cause, 
signify  ?     If  we  analyze  our  thought,  we  shall  find  that  it  simply 

1  Cf.  Discussions,  p.  609.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XXXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  533 

means,  that  as  we  cannot  conceive  any  new  existence  to  commence, 

therefore,  all  that  now  is  seen  to   arise   under 

What  aprears  to  us       a  ncw  appearance  had  previously  an  existence 

to  beRin  to  be,  is  nee-       under  a  prior  form.     We  are  utterly  unable  to 

esearily  thought  by  us  v         •         i  i  i  -i  •!•  c-      i 

as   having   previously         ^^^^^"^"^    "^    thought    the    pOSSlblhty    of    the    COm- 

existed  under  another       plcmcnt  of  existence  being  either  increased  or 
^o'"™-  diminished.     We  are  unable,  on  the  one  hand,  to 

conceive  nothing  becoming  something,  —  or,  on 
the  other,  something  becoming  nothing.  When  God  is  said  to 
create  out  of  nothing,  we  construe  this  to  thought  by  supi)osing 
that  He  evolves  existence  out  of  Himself;  we  view  the  Creator  as 
the  cause  of  the  universe.  "Ex  nihilo  nihil,  in  nihilum  nil  posse 
reveiti,"  ^  expresses,  in  its  purest  form,  the  whole  intellectual  jjhaj- 
nomenon  of  causality. 

There  is  thus  conceived  an  absolute  tautology  betwecii  the  effect 

and  its  causes.     We  think  the  causes  to  contain 
Hence  an  absolute       ,^\\  ^\^^x.  is  contained  in  the  effect ;  the  effect  to 

tautology  between  the  ,    .  ,,  .  i  •    i  ^  ,    •        i  •      ,i 

„  ,       ...  contain  notinno:  which  was  not  contained  in  the 

effect   and   its   causes.  » 

This  illustrated.  causes.     Take  an  example.     A  neutral  salt  is  an 

effect  of  the  conjunction  of  an  acid  and  alkali. 
Here  we  do  not,  and  here  we  cannot,  conceive  that,  in  effect,  any 
new  existence  has  been  added,  nor  can  we  conceive  that  any  has 
been  taken  away.  But  another  example: — Gunpowder  is  the  effect 
of  a  mixture  of  sulphur,  charcoal,  and  nitre,  and  these  three  sub- 
stances are  again  the  effect,  —  result,  of  simpler  constituents,  and 
these  constituents  again  of  simpler  elements,  either  known  or  con- 
ceived to  exist.  Now,  in  all  this  series  of  compositions,  we  cannot 
conceive  that  aught  begins  to  exist.  The  gunpowder,  the  last 
compound,  we  are  compelled  to  think,  contains  precisely  the  same 
quantum  of  existence  that  its  ultimate  elements  contained,  prior  to 
their  combination-  Well,  we  explode  the  powder.  Can  we  con- 
ceive that  existence  has  been  diminished  by  the  annihilation  of  a 
single  element  ])reviously  in  being,  or  increased  by  the  addition  of 
a  single  element  which  was  not  heretofore  in  nature?  "'Omnia 
mutantur;  nihil  interit,"'^  —  is  what  we  think,  what  we  must  think. 
This  then  is  the  mental  phaMiomonon  of  causality,  —  that  we  neces- 
sarily deny  in  thought  that  the  object  which  appears  to  begin  to  be, 
really  so  begins ;  and  that  we  necessarily  identify  its  present  with 
its  past  existence.  Here  it  is  not  requisite  tliat  we  should  know 
under  what    form,   under  what    combinations,  this    existence   was 

1  Tersins,  iii.  84.     [Cf.  Rixncr,  Gachkhtt  dtr  Phiiosophir,  v.  i.  p  83,  i  62.] 

2  Ovid,  Met.  xv.  165.  —  Eu. 


Brown"s  account  of 


OM  METAPHYSICS  Lect    XXXIX 

previously  realized,  in  other  words,  it  is  not  requisite  that  we  should 

know  what  are  the  particular  causes  of  the  par- 

■Not  necessary  to  the       ticular  effect.     The  discovery  of  the  connection 

notion  of  Causality,       ^f  determinate  causes  and  determinate  effects  is 

that  we  isboula  know 

the  particular  causes       merely  contingent  and  individual,  — merely  the 
oi  the  particular  effect.       datum    of  experience;    but   the   principle  that 

every  event  should  have  its  causes,  is  necessary 
and  universal,  and  is  imposed  on  us  as  a  condition  of  our  human 
intelligence  itself.  This  last  is  the  only  phaenomenon  to  be  ex- 
plained. Nor  are  philosophers,  in  general,  really  at  variance  in  their 
statement  of  the  problem.  However  divergent  in  their  mode  of 
explanation,  they  are  at  one  in  regard  to  th«  matter  to  be  exj)lained.^ 
But  there  is  one  exception.     Dr.  Brown  has  given  a  very  different 

account  of  the  pha3nomenon   in  question.     To 
this  statement  of  it,  I  beg  to  solicit  vour  atten- 

the    phaenomenon    of  .  i  •        i  • 

Causality.  ^^^"  5  ^^^'  ^^  ^^^  theory  IS  solely  accommodated 

to  his  view  of  the  phenomenon,  so  his  theory 
is  refuted  by  showing  that  his  view  of  the  phaenomenon  is  errone- 
ous. To  prevent  misconception,  I  shall  exhibit  to  you  his  doctrine 
in  his  own  words  :  ^ 

"  Why  is  it,  then,  we  believe  that  continiial  similarity  of  the  future 
to  the  past,  which  constitutes,  or  at  least  is  im- 

Brown  quoted.  ,.     ,    . 

plied  in,  our  notion  of  power  ?  A  stone  tends 
to  the  earth,  —  a  stone  will  always  tend  to  the  earth,  —  are  not  the 
same  proposition ;  nor  can  the  first  be  said  to  involve  the  second. 
It  is  not  to  experience,  then,  alone  that  we  must  have  recourse  for 
the  origin  of  the  belief,  but  to  some  other  principle  which  converts 
the  simple  facts  of  experience  into  a  general  expectation  or  confi- 
dence, that  is  afterwards  to  be  physically  the  guide  of  all  our  plans 
and  actions. 

"  This  principle,  since  it  cannot  be  derived  from  experience  itself, 
which  relates  only  to  the  past,  must  be  an  original  principle  of  our 
nature.  There  is  a  tendency  in  the  very  constitution  of  the  mind 
from  which  the  experience  arises,  — a  tendency,  that,  in  everything 
which  it  adds  to  the  mere  facts  of  experience,  may  truly  be  termed 
instinctive ;  for  though  that  term  is  commonly  suj^posed  to  imply 
something  peculiarly  mysterious,  there  is  no  more  real  mystery  in 
it  than  in  any  of  the  simplest  successions  of  thought,  which  are  all, 
in  like  manner,  the  results  of  a  natural  tendency  of  the  mind  to 
exfst  in  certain  states,  after  existing  in  certain  other  states.     The 

I  On  the  nature  and  origin  of  the  notion  2  Phii  of  the   Human  Mind,  Lect   vi  p.  34, 

Causality,  see  Platner,  PAii..4p/i.  i.  §  845  e<  ie?       edit.  1830. 
—  Ed. 


Lkct.  XXXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  535 

belief  is,  a  state  or  feeling  of  the  mind  as  easily  conceivable  as  any 
other  state  of  it,  —  a  new  feeling,  arising  in  certain  circumstances, 
as  uniformly  as,  in  certain  other  circumstances,  there  arise  other 
states  or  feelings  of  the  mind,  which  we  never  consider  as  mysteri- 
ous; those,  tor  example,  which  we  terra  tiie  sensations  of  sweetness 
or  of  sound.  To  have  our  nerves  of  taste  or  hearing  afiected  in  a 
certain  manner,  is  not,  indeed,  to  taste  or  hear,  but  it  is  immediately 
afterwards  to  have  those  particular  sensations ;  and  this  nierely 
because  the  mind  was  originally  so  constituted,  as  to  exist  directly 
in  the  one  state  after  existing  in  the  other.  To  observe,  in  like 
manner,  a  series  of  antecedents  and  consequents,  is  not,  in  the  very 
feeling  of  the  moment,  to  believe  in  the  future  similarity,  but,  in 
consequence  of  a  similar  original  tendency,  it  is  immediately  after- 
wards to  believe  that  the  same  antecedents  Avill  invariably  be  fol- 
lowed by  the  same  (consequents.  That  this  belief  of  the  future  is  a 
state  of  mind  very  different  from  the  mere  perception  or  memory 
of  the  past,  from  which  it  flows,  is  indeed  true ;  but  what  resem- 
blance has  sweetness,  as  a  sensation  of  the  mind,  to  the  solution  of 
a  few  particles  of  sugar  on  the  tongue ;  or  the  harmonies  of  music, 
to  the  vibration  of  particles  of  air?  All  which  we  know,  in  both 
cases,  is,  that  these  successions  regularly  take  place  ;  and  in  the 
legular  successions  of  nature,  which  could  not,  in  one  instance  more 
than  in  another,  have  been  predicted  without  experience,  nothing  is 
mysterious,  or  everything. is  mysterious 

"It  is  more  immediately  our  present  ])urpose  to  consider,  What 
it  truly  is  which  is  the  object  of  inquiry,  when  we  examine  the 
physical  successions  of  events,  in  whatever  manner  the  belief  of 
their  similarity  of  sequence  may  have  arisen  ?  Is  it  the  mere  series 
of  regular  antecedents  and  consequents  themselves  ?  or.  Is  it  any- 
thing more  mysterious,  whicli  must  be  supposed  to  intervene  aiid 
connect  them  by  some  invisible  bondage? 

"We  see  in  nature  one  event  followed  by  another.  The  fall  of  a 
spark  on  gunpowder,  for  exam])le,  followed  by  the  deflagratii)n  of 
the  gunpowder;  and,  by  a  peculiar  tendency  of  our  constitution, 
which  we  mu.st  take  for  granted,  whatever  be  our  theory  ()f  ]tower, 
we  believe,  that,  as  long  as  all  the  circumstances  continue  the  same, 
the  sequence  of  events  will  continue  the  same;  tliat  the  detlagratioii 
of  gunpowder,  for  example,  will  be  the  invariable  consequence  of 
the  fall  of  a  spark  on  it  :  in  other  words,  we  believe  the  gunpowder 
to  be  susceptible  of  deflagration  on  the  ap|)lication  of  a  spark,  :Mid 
a  spark  to  have  the  power  of  deflagrating  g\ni])owder. 

"There  is  nothing  more,  then,  understood  in  the  train  of  events, 
however  regular,  than  the  regular  onler  of  antecedents  and  couse- 


636  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIX. 

quents  which  compose  the  train ;  and  between  which,  if  anything 
else  existed,  it  would  itself  be  a  part  of  the  train.  All  that  we 
mean,  when  we  ascribe  to  one  substance  a  susceptibility  of  being 
affected  by  another  substance,  is  that  a  certain  change  will  uniformly 
take  place  in  it  when  that  other  is  present;  —  all  that  we  mean,  in 
like  manner,  when  we  ascribe  to  one  substance  a  power  of  affecting 
another  substance,  is,  that,  Avhere  it  is  present,  a  certain  change  will 
uniformly  take  place  in  that  other  substance.  Power,  in  short,  is 
significant  not  of  anything  different  from  the  invariable  antecedent 
itself,  but  of  the  mere  invariableness  of  the  order  of  its  appearance 
in  reference  to  some  invariable  consequent,  —  the  invariable  antece- 
dent being  denominated  a  cciKse,  the  invariable  consequent  an  effect. 
To  say,  that  water  has  the  power  of  dissolving  salt,  and  to  say  that 
salt  will  always  melt  when  water  is  poured  upon  it,  are  to  say  pre- 
cisely the  same  thing ;  —  there  is  nothing  in  the  one  proposition, 
which  is  not  exactly  and  to  the  same  extent  enunciated  in  the  other." 

Now,  in  explaining  to  you  the  doctrine  of  Dr,  Brown,  I  am  happy 
to  avail  myself  of  the  assistance  of  my  late  lamented  friend,  Dr> 
Brown's  successor,  whose  metaphysical  acuteness  was  not  the  least 
remarkable  of  his  many  brilliant  qualities. 

"  Now,  the  distinct  and  full  purport  of  Dr.  Brown's  doctrine,  it 

will  be  observed,  is  this,  —  that  when  we  apply  in 

1  son  quo  e    on       ^|^-g  ^      ^j^^  words  cuuse  and  poicer,  we  attach 

Brown's    doctrine    of  "^  . 

Causality.  ^*-*  Other  meaning  to  the  terms  than  what  he  has. 

explained.  By  the  word  caxse,  we  mean  no 
more  than  that  in  this  instance  the  spark  falling  is  the  event  imme- 
diately prior  to  the  explosion  :  including  the  belief  that  in  all  cases 
hitherto,  when  a  spark  has  fallen  on  gunpowder  (of  course,  sup- 
posing other  circumstances  the  same),  the  gunpowder  has  kindled  ;. 
and  that  whenever  a  spark  shall  again  so  fall,  the  grains  v.dll  again 
take  fire.  The  present  immediate  priority,  and  the  past  and  future 
invariable  sequence  of  the  one  event  upon  the  other,  are  all  the 
ideas  that  the  mind  can  have  in  view  in  speaking  of  the  event  in 
that  instance  as  a  cause ;  and  in  speaking  of  the  power  in  the  spark 
to  produce  this  effect,  we  mean  merely  to  express  the  invariableness 
with  which  this  has  happened  and  will  happen. 

"This  is  the  doctrine;  and  the  author  submits  it  to  this  test: — • 
'Let  any  one,'  he  says,  'ask  himself  what  it  is  Avhich  he  means  by 
the  term  '  power,'  and  without  contenting  himself  with  a  few  i^hrase* 
that  signify  nothing,  reflect  before  he  give  his  answer,  —  and  he  will 
find  that  he  means  nothing  more  than  that,  in  all  similar  circum- 
stances, the  explosion  of  gunpowder  will  be  the  immediate  and 
uniform  consequence  of  the  apj^lication  of  a  spark. 


Lect.  XXXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  53T 

"  This  test,  indeed,  is  the  only  one  to  which  the  question  can  be- 
brought.  For  the  question  does  not  regard  causes  themselves,  but 
solely  the  ideas  of  cause,  in  the  human  mind.  If,  therefore,  every 
one  to  whom  this  analvsis  of  the  idea  that  is  in  his  mind  when  he 
speaks  of  a  cause,  is  proposed,  finds,  on  comparing  it  with  what 
})assed  in  his  mind,  that  this  is  a  complete  and  full  account  of  his 
conception,  there  is  nothing  more  to  be  said,  and  the  point  is  made 
good.  By  that  sole  possible  test  the  analysis  is,  in  such  a  case, 
established.  If,  on  the  contrary,  when  this  analysis  is  proposed,  as 
containins  all  the  ideas  which  we  annex  to  the  words  cause  and 
power,  the  minds  of  most  men  cannot  satisfy  themselves  that  it  is- 
complete,  but  are  still  possessed  with  a  strong  suspicion  that  there 
is  something  more,  which  is  not  here  accounted  for,  —  then  the 
analysis  is  not  yet  established,  and  it  becomes  necessary  to  inquire, 
by  additional  examination  of  the  subject,  what  that  more  may  be.' 

"  Let  us  then  ai)jily  the  test  by  which  Dr.  Brown  j)roposes  that 
the  truth  of  his  views  shall  be  tried.  Let  us  ask  ourselves  what  Ave 
mean  when  we  say,  that  the  spark  has  power  to  kindle  the  gunpow- 
der,—  that  the  i>owder  is  suscei)tible  of  being  kindled  by  the  spark. 
Do  we  mean  only  that  whenever  they  come  together  this  will  hap- 
pen?    Do  we  merely  predict  this  simple  and  certain  futurity? 

"  We  do  not  fear  to  say,  that  when  we  speak  of  a  power  in  one 
substance  to  produce  a  change  in  another,  and  of  a  susceptibility  of 
such  change  in  that  other,  we  express  more  than  our  belief  that  the 
change  has  taken  and  will  take  place.  There  is  more  ni  our  mind 
than  a  conviction  of  the  past  and  a  foresight  of  the  future.  There 
is,  besides  this,  the  conception  included  of  a  fixed  constitution  of 
their  nature,  which  determines  the  event,  —  a  constitution,  which, 
while  it  lasts,  makes  the  event  a  necessary  consequence  of  the  situ- 
ation in  which  the  objects  are  placed.  We  should  say  then,  that 
there  are  included  in  these  terms,  'power,'  and  •  susceptibility  of 
change,'  two  ideas  which  are  not  expressed  in  Dr.  Brown's  an.-ilysis, 
—  one  of  necessity,  and  the  other  of  a  constitution  of  things,  in 
which  that  necessity  is  established.  That  these  two  ideas  are  not 
exi)ressed  in  the  terms  of  Dr.  Brown's  analysis,  is  seen  by  quoting 
again  his  words:  —  'He  will  find  that  he  means  nothing  more  than 
that,  in  all  similar  circumstances,  the  exi»losiun  of  gunpowder  will 
be  the  immediate  and  uniform  consequence  of  the  ai)plication  of  a 
8})ark.' 

"It  is  certain,  from  the  whole  tenor  of  his  work,  that  Dr.  Brown 
has  desi(rne<l  to  exclude  the  idi'a  of  necessitv  from  liis  analysis."' 

1  I'rot'.  Wilson,  in  B/ticku-norl's  Mn^a^-lnr.  vol.  xl.  \<    l'-'2  w  .v^y. 


538  ilETAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XXXIX. 

Now  this  admirably  expresses  what  I  have  always  felt  is  the 

grand  and  fundamental  defect  in  Dr.  Brown's 

amen  a     e  ec        theorv,  —  a  defect  which  renders  that  theory  ah 

111  Rrowu's  theory.  •'  ^  •'     _ 

initio  worthless.  Brown  professes  to  explain 
the  phienomenon  of  causality,  but,  2)reviously  to  explanation,  he 
evacuates  the  phaenomenon  of  all  that  desiderates  explanation. 
What  remains  in  the  pha?nomenon,  after  the  quality  of  necessity  is 
thrown,  or  rather  silently  allowed  to  drop  out,  is  only  accidental,  — 
only  a  consequence  of  the  essential  circumstance. 

Tfie  opinions  in  regard  to  the  nature  and  origin  of  the  principle 

of  Causality,  in  so  far  as  that  principle  is  viewed 

Classification  of  opin-       as  a  subjectivc  phenomenon,  —  as  a  judgment 

ions  on  the  nature  and  c  ^^        ^  •      -i  ^n-^^  '^^ 

,  ,^     ^  .    .        oi  the  human  mind, — laii  into  two  great  cate- 

ongin   of  the    Princi-  '  " 

pic  of  Causality.  gories.      The  first   category   (A)    conq»rehends 

those  theories  which  consider  this  })rinciple  as 
Empirical  or  a  posteriori,  that  is,  as  derived  from  experience ;  the 
other  (B)  comprehends  those  which  view  it  as  Pure  or  a  priori, 
that  is,  as  a  condition  of  intelligence  itself  These  two  primary 
genera  are,  however,  severally  subdivided  into  various  subordinate 
classes. 

The  former  category  (^\),  under  which  this  principle  is  regarded 
as  the  result  of  experience,  contains  two  classes,  inasmuch  as  the 
causal  judgment  may  be  supposed  founded  either  (a)  on  an  Orig- 
inal, or  (1))  on  a  Derivative,  cognition.  Each  of  these  again  is 
di\'ided  into  two,  according  as  the  principle  is  sujjposed  to  liave  an 
objective,  or  a  subjective,  origin.  In  the  former  case,  that  is,  where 
the  cognition  is  supposed  to  be  original  and  underived,  it  is  Object- 
ive, or  rather  Objectivo-Objective,  when  held  to  consist  in  an  imme- 
diate perception  of  the  power  or  efficacy  of  causes  in  the  external 
<nnd  internal  worlds  (1);  and  Subjective,  or  rather  Objectivo-Sub- 
jective,  Avhen  viewed  as  given  in  a  self-consciousness  alone  of  the 
power  or  efficacy  of  our  own  volitions  (2).  In  the  latter  case,  that 
is,  where  the  cognition  is  supposed  to  be  derivative,  if  objective,  it 
is  viewed  as  a  ])roduct  of  Induction  and  Generalization  (3) ;  if  sub- 
jective, of  Association  and  Custom  (4). 

In  like  manner,  the  latter  category  (B),  under  which  the  causal 
principle  is  considered  not  as  a  result,  but  as  a  condition,  of  experi- 
ence, is  variously  divided  and  subdivided.  In  the  first  place,  the 
opinions  under  this  category  fall  into  two  classes,  inasmuch  as  some 
regard  the  causal  judgment  (c)  as  an  Ultimate  or  Primary  law  of 
mind,  while  others  regard  it  (d)  as  a  ^Secondary  or  Derived.  Those 
who  hold  the  former  doctrine,  in  viewing  it  as  a  simple  original 
principle,  hold  likewise  that  it  is  a  positive  act,  —  an  affirmative 


Lect.  XXXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  539 

datum,  of  intelligence.  This  class  is  finally  subdivided  into  two 
opinions.  For  some  hold  that  the  causal  judgment,  as  necessary, 
is  given  in  what  they  call  "  the  i)rinciple  of  Causality,"  that  is,  the 
])rinciple  which  declares  that  everything  which  begins  to  be,  must 
have  its  cause  (5)  ;  whilst  at  least  one  philosopher,  without  explic- 
itly denying  that  the  causal  judgment  is  necessary,  would  identify 
it  with  the  principle  of  our  "Expectation  of  the  Constancy  of 
nature"  (6). 

Those  who  hold  that  it  can  be  analyzed  into  a  higher  principle, 
also  hold  that  it  is  not  of  a  positive  but  of  a  negative  character. 
These,  however,  are  divided  into  two  classes.  By  some  it  has  been 
maintained,  that  the  principle  of  Causality  can  be  resolved  into  the 
])rii)ciplc  of  Contradiction  (7),  which,  as  I  formerly  stated  to  you^ 
ouglit  in  propriety  to  be  called  the  princi])le  of  Non-Contradiction. 
On  the  other  hand,  it  may  be  (though  it  never  has  been)  argued, 
that  the  judgment  of  Causality  can  be  analyzed  into  what  I  called 
the  principle  of  the  Conditioned,  —  the  principle  of  Relativity  (8). 
To  one  or  the  other  of  these  eight  heads,  all  the  doctrines  tliat  have 
been  actually  maintained  in  regard  to  the  origin  of  the  principle  in 
question,  may  be  referred  ;  and  the  classification  is  the  better  worthy 
of  your  attention,  as  in  no  work  will  you  find  any  attempt  at  even 
an  enumeration  of  the  various  theories,  actual  and  possible,  on  this 
subject.^ 

An  adequate  discussion  of  these  several  heads,  and  a  special  con- 
sideration of  the    difterences  of  the    individual 

These   eijriit   doc-       opinions  wliich  they  comj)rehend,  Mould  far  ex- 

triiu'.s    considered    in  •,  i-      -^  Tin    ^i  i-  f 

ceeci  our  hnuts.     1  sliall,  theretore,  connne  mv- 

general.  _  ' 

self  to  a  few  observations  on  the  value  of  these 
eight  doctrines  in  general,  without  descending  to  the  particular 
modifications  under  which  they  have  been  maintained  by  particular 
philosophers. 

Of  these,  the  first, —  that  which  assei'ts  that  we  have  a  perception 

of  the  causal  agency,  as  we  have  a  perce])tion  of 

I     (Hjjeciivo  Objec-  ,i  •   ^  ■  x"        ^  i       i  ■       x  ii  •  •     • 

,.     .  the  existence  01  external  obiects,  —  this  oiunion 

live      !iiid    Objectivo-  _  .         .  . 

Subjective.  l''"'S  bccu   always  held  in  combination   with   the 

I'erctptioii  of  cuusai       sccoud,  —  that  wliich  maintains  tliat  we  are  self- 

eificiency,      external       conscious  of  cfficieucv ;  though  the  sccond   has 

and  internal.  •  ,  i       i     i  i  \  i  -i  i  i        i 

been  tre(|uently  held  by  philosophers  who  have 
abandoned  the  first  as  untenable. 

Considering  them  togctlu  r,  that  is,  as  forming  the  opinion  that 
we  directly  and  immediately  apprehend  the  efficiency  of  causes,  both 

1  A  Tabular  View  of  the  Theories  in  regard  to  the  Principle  of  ('ausality  will  be  found  on 
the  next  pa^^e. 


540 


METAPHYSICS. 


Lect.  XXXIX. 


A    TABULAR    VIE^V 


OF     THE 


THEORIES  IN  REGARD  TO  THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  CAUSALITY. 


a. 

Original 

or 
Primitive. 


A. 
A  Posteriori."^ 


b. 

Derivative 

or 

vSecondarv. 


'1. 
Objectivo-objective  and  Objectivo-subjec- 

tive,— Perception  of  Causal  EflBciency, 

external  and  internal. 


Objectivo-subjective, — Perception  of  Cau- 
sal EfBcienc}-,  internal. 


Objective,  —  Induction,  Generalization. 


Judgment 

of 
Causality ' 

as 


c. 

Original 

or 
Primitive. 


B. 

A  Priori. 


d. 

Derivative 
or 
\  Secondary . 


Subjective,  —  Association,  Custom,  Habit. 


'0. 

Necessary :  A  Special  Principle  of  Intelli- 
gence. 


f6. 

Contingent :  Expectation  of  the  ConBtancy 
of  Nature. 


From  the  Law  of  Contradiction  (t.  e.  Non- 
Contradiction). 


8. 
,  From  the  Law  of  the  Conditioned. 


Lkct.  XXXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  541 

external  and  internal,  —  this  opinion  is  refuted  by  two  objections. 

The  first  is,  that  we  have  no  such  apprehen- 
Refuted    on    two       gion,  —  no  such  knowledge ;  the  second,  that  it 

grounds.  ,      -.       ,  .      i     .  i  •   •      i  i 

we  had,  this  being  merely  empirical, —  merely 
conversant  with  individual  instances,  could  never  account  for  the 
quality  of  necessity  and  universality  which  accompanies  the  judg- 
ment of  causality.  In  regard  to  the  first  of  these  objections,  it  is 
now  universally  admitted  that  we  have  no  perception  of  the  con- 
nection of  cause  and  effect  in  the  external  world.  For  example, 
when  one  billiard-ball  is  seen  to  strike  another,  we  perceive  only 
that  the  impulse  of  the  one  is  followed  by  the  motion  of  the  other, 
but  have  no  perception  of  any  force  or  efficiency  in  the  first,  by 

which  it  is  connected  with  the  second,  in  the 

That    we    have    no  ,    ,.  r,  ,■  tt  ^\  i  •! 

^  ,  relation  of    causality.      Hume  was  the  philos- 

perception  of  tlie  con-  .  '  .    . 

nection  of  cause  and  opher  wlio  decided  the  opinion  of  the  world  on 
effect  in  the  external  this  poiut.  He  was  not,  howcver,  the  first  who 
world,  -  maintained       ^^^^^^^  ^^^  ^^^.^^  ^^  ^^^^^  ^-^^  reasoner  wlio  stated 

it  most  clearly.  He,  however,  believed  himself, 
or  would  induce  us  to  believe  that  in  tliis  he  was  original.  Speaking 
of  this  point,  "  I  am  sensible,"  he  says,  "  that  of  all  the  paradoxes, 
which  I  have  had,  or  shall  hereafter  have,  occasion  to  advance,  in 
the  course  of  this  treatise,  the  j)resent  one  is  the  most  violent,  and 
that  it  is  merely  by  dint  of  solid  })roof  and  reasoning  I  can  ever 
hope  it  will  have  admission,  and  overcome  the  inveterate  prejudices 
of  mankind.  JJcfore  we  are  reconciled  to  this  doctrine,  how  often 
must  we  repeat  to  ourselves,  that  the  simj)le  view  of  any  two 
objects  or  actiou.s,  however  related,  can  never  give  us  any  idea 
of  power,  or  of  a  connection  betwixt  them  ;  that  this  idea  arises 
from  the  repetition  of  their  union  :  that  the  repetition  neither  dis- 
covers nor  causes  anylhing  in  the  objects,  but  has  an  infiuence  only 
on  the  mind,  by  that  customary  transition  it  i)roduces  :  that  this 
customary  transition  is,  therefore,  the  same  with  the  power  and 
necessity;  which  are  consequently  <|ualities  of  perceptions,  not  of 
objects,  and  are  internally  felt  by  the  soul,  and  not  perceived  exter- 
nally in  bodies  ?  "  ' 

I  could  adduce  to  you  a  whole  army  of  philosojiliers  previous  to 
Hume,  who  had  announced  and  illustrated  tlie  fact.*     As  far  as  I 

I  Trea'iite  of  Human  Natitrf,  v.  i.  b.  1.  p.  iii.  3,  4.     Optra.    Phil.,  i.  p.  318.     Chev.  Ramsay, 

*  14,  p.  291,  orij;   edit  PItilos.  Prin   of  yalural  an/I  Rtvralfd  Ii'l<i;ion, 

-  Cf    Sturm,  Phijsica  EUctiva,   c    iv.  p.  1*'^  p.  KM;  (;his;;ow,  1748.     That  Aristotle  did  not 

(eilit.  1697).     Stewart,    B/emntl.t,   i.    Works,  ii.  acknowledge  that  ."si-nsc  had   any  porrepticii 

note  C,  p.  476,  K'mcn/,1.    ii.  IVbrlb.  iii.  note  O,  of   the   causal    connection,  is  shown    by   his 

p.  319. — Ed.    (See  Le  Clerc,  Onto/ogia,  c.  X.  i  denying  sense  aa  principle  of  science,  i.  «■ 


542  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIX 

have  been  able  to  trace  it,  this  doctrine  was  first  promulgated  tow- 
ards the  commeucemeiit  of  the  twelfth  century, 
And,  before  him,  by       ^^  Bagdad,  bv  Algazel  (El  Gazeli),  a  pious  Mo- 
man  v  philosophers.  *  ,.,i 

haramedan  philosopher,  who  not  undeservedly 
obtained  the  title  of  Imaura  of  the  World.     Algazel  did  not  deny 

the  reality  of  causation,  but  he  maintained  that 
Algazel, -probably       g^^^^  ^^.^^  ^j^^  ^,     efficient  cause  in  nature  ;•  and 

the  first.  ,  ,  •'  ,        ' 

that  second  causes  were  not  properly  causes 
but  only  occasions,  of  the  eflFect.  That  we  have  no  perception  of 
any  real  agency  of  one  body  on  another,  is  a  truth  which  has  not 
more  clearly  been  stated  or  illustrated  by  any  subsequent  philoso- 
pher than  by  him  who  first  proclaimed  it.     The  doctrine  of  Algazel 

was  adopted  by  that  great  sect  among  the  Mus- 

Mussulman  doctors.  ,  ,      ,  ,  ^    -,     i     ^  t  . 

sulman  doctors,  who  were  styled  those  speaking 
in  the  laxo  (loquentes  in  lege)^  that  is,  the  law  of  Mohammed.    From 

the  Eastern  Schools  the  opinion  passed  to  those 
of  the  West ;  and  we  find  it  a  jjroblem  which 
divided  the  scholastic  philosophers,  whether  God  were  the  only  effi- 
cient, or  whether  causation   could  be  attributed  to  created  exist- 
ences.^    After  the  revival  of  letters,  the   opinion   of  Algazel  was 
maintained  by  many  individual   thinkers,  though  it  no  longer  re- 
tained the  same  prominence  in  the  schools.     It  was  held,  for  exam- 
ple, by  Malebranche,^  and  his  illustration  from 
the  collision  of  two  billiard-balls  is  likewise  that 
of  Hume,  who  pi'obably  borrowed  from  Malebranche  both  the  opin- 
ion and  the  example. 

But  there  are  many  ^philosophers  who  surren  • 
II.  objectivo  Subjec-       ^^^,  ^-^^  external  perception,  and  maintain  our 

tive.       Perception    of  . 

causal  efficiency,  in-       internal   consciousness,   of  causation  or  power, 
ternai.  This  Opinion  was,  in  one  chapter  of  his  Essay* 

^"'^'^®-  advanced  by  Locke,  and,  at  a  veiy  recent  date, 

it  has  been  amplified  and  enforced  with  distin- 
guished ability  by  the  late  M.  Maine  de  Biran,' — one  of  the  acutest 

StOT(,  (see  Post.  ^71.,  i  p.  .31;    and  i6i,  Zabar-  EUctivn,  civ.  \y.\2&  et  seq.     V  oirei  CEconomia 

clla),  and  by  his  denying  that  sense  is  princi-  Divina,  i.  vi.  §  6,  p  G&elscq.  (edit  1705)  ] 
pie  of  wisdom,  a.s  ignorant  of  cause  (see  Met ,  3  [Recherche  de  la  Verite.  1.  vi.  p.  c  iii.] 

i.  p  50,  and  ibi.  Fonseca.    See  also  Conimbri-         4  Book  ii.  c.  xxi.  §  5  —  Ed. 
censes.  In  Or^.  ii.  436  )]  5  See   Examen  des   Legons  de   Philosajthif ,  ' 

I  See    Averroes,     Destructio     Destructionis.  viii.,  Nouvellts  Considerations,  p.  241;  and  He- 

Aristotelis   Opera,  Venet.   1.560,  vol.  ix.  p    56.  ponses  aux  Arguments  conlre  V  Apperception  Im- 

Quoted  by  Tennemann,  Gesch.  der  Phil.  vol.  mediate  d''une  Liaison  Causale  entre  le  Voutoir  et 

viii.  p.  405  —Ed.  la  Motion,  etc.,  Nouv.  Con.  p.  363  (edit  1634). 

2  [See  Biel,  In   Sent.  I.  iv,   dist.  50.  q.  1.  Cf  Preface,  by  M.  Cousin,  p.  34;  and  Court 

D'Ailly,   Ibid.  dist.   2.  q.  23;  referred   to  by  de  r  Histoire  de  la  Phtlosophie  (xviii*  Sifecle)  t 

Scheibler,  Opera  Metaphysica,  1.  ii    c.  iii.  tit.  ii.  1.  xix.  p.  231  (edit.  1829).  —  Ed. 
19,  p.  124  (edit.  1665).    See  also  Sturm,  Physica 


Lect.  XXXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  543 

metaphysicians  of  France.  On  this  doctrine,  the  notion  of  cause  is 
not  given  to  us  by  the  observations  of  external  j)h{enomena,  which, 
as  considered  only  by  the  senses,  manifest  no  causal  efficiency,  and 
ap})ear  to  us  only  as  successive ;  it  is  given  to  us  within,  in  reflec- 
tion, in  the  consciousness  of  our  operations  and  of  the  power  which 
exerts  thein, —  viz.,  the  will.  I  make  an  effort  to  move  my  arm,  and 
I  move  it.  When  we  analyze  attentively  the  phsenomenon  of  eftbrt, 
which  M.  de  Biran  considers  as  the  type  of  the  phenomena  of  voli- 
tion, the  following  are  the  results  :  —  1°,  the  consciousness  of  an  act 
of  will ;  2°,  Tlie  consciousness  of  a  motion  produced  ;  3'^,  A  rela- 
tion of  the  motion  to  the  volition.  And  what  is  this  relation?  Not 
a  simple  relation  of  succession.  The  Avill  is  not  for  us  a  pure  act 
without  efiiciency,  —  it  is  a  productive  energy ;  so  that  in  a  volition 
there  is  given  to  us  the  notion  of  cause,  and  this  notion  we  subse^ 
quently  transport,  —  project  out  from  our  internal  activities,  into  the 
changes  of  the  external  world. 

^This  reasoning,  in  so  far  as  regards  the  mere  empirical  fact  of  our 
consciousness  of  causality,  in  the  relation  of  our 

Shown  to  be  unten-  .,,  .  t       /^  t      i  i     • 

Will  as  moving,  antl  of  our  Jimos  as  moved,  is 

able.  .  . 

1.  No  consciousness       refuted  by  the  consideration,  that  between  the 
of  causal  coiinection       overt  fact  of  corporcal  movement  of  which  we 

between  volition    and  •         .  i^i'i  i  ^       c  1.1 

are  cognizant,  and  tlie   internal   act  of  mental 

motion.  .         .  ^  .    , 

determination  of  which  we  are  also  cognizant, 
there  intervenes  a  numerous  series  of  intermediate  agencies  of 
which  we  have  no  knowledge ;  and,  consequently,  that  we  can  have 
no  consciousness  of  any  causal  connection  between  the  extreme 
links  of  this  chain,  —  the  volition  to  move  and  the  limb  moving,  as 
this  hypothesis  asserts.  No  one  is  immediately  conscious,  for  exam- 
ple, of  moving  his  arm  through  his  volition.  Previously  to  this 
ultimate  movement,  muscles,  nerves,  a  multitude  of  solid  .iiiil  tluiil 
parts,  must  be  set  in  motion  by  tlie  will,  but  of  this  motion  we 
know,  from  consciousness,  absolutely  nuthing.  A  person  struck 
with  i)aralvsis  is  conscious  of  no  inabilitv  in  his  limb  to  fulfil  the 
determinations  of  his  will;  and  it  is  only  after  having  willed  and 
fimling  that  his  limbs  do  not  obey  his  volition,  tliat  he  learns  by  his 
experience,  that  the  external  movement  does  not  follow  the  internal 
act.  l>ut  as  the  paralytic  learns  after  the  volition,  that  his  limbs  do 
not  obey  his  mind  ;  so  it  is  only  after  volition  that  the  man  in  health 
learns,  that  his  limbs  do  obey  the  mandates  of  his  will. 

But,  independently  of  all  tliis,  the  second  objection  above  men- 
tioned is  fatal  to   the   theory  which  would  found  the  judgment  of 

1  See  Reid's  Wurks.  p.  866.     Difctifs.,  p.  612.  — Ed. 


544  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIX 

causality  on  any  empirical  cognition,  whether  of  the  phgenomena 

of  mind  or  of  the  phenomena  of  matter.     Ad- 

2.  And  even  if  this       mitting  tliat  causation  were  cognizable,  and  that 

admitted,  fails  to  ac-       perception  and  self-consciousness  were  compe- 

count    for    tlie    judg-  ... 

ment  of  Causality.  ^^nt  to  its  apprehension,  Still  as  these  faculties 

could  only  take  note  of  individual  causations,  we 
should  be  wholly  unable,  out  of  such  empirical  acts,  to  evolve  the 
quality  of  necessity  and  universality,  by  which  this  notion  is  dis- 
tinguished. Admitting  that  we  had  really  observed  the  agency  of 
any  number  of  causes,  still  this  would  not  explain  to  us,  how  we  are 
unable  to  think  a  manifestation  of  existence  without  thinking  it  as 
an  effect.  Our  internal  experience,  especially  in  the  relation  of  our 
volitions  to  their  effects,  may  be  useful  in  giving  us  a  clearer  notion 
of  causality ;  but  it  is  altogether  incompetent  to  account  for  what 
:n  it  there  is  of  the  quality  of  necessity.  So  much  for  the  two  the- 
ories at  the  head  of  the  Table. 

As  the  first  and  second  opinions  have  been  usually  associated,  so 
also  have  the  third  and  fourth,  —  that  is,  the  doctrine  that  our 
notion  of  causality  is  the  offspring  of  the  objective  principle  of 
Induction  or  Generalization,  and  the  doctrine,  that  it  is  the  offspring 
of  the  subjective  principle  of  Association  or  Custom. 

In  regard  to  the  former,  —  the  third,  it  is  plain  that  the  observa- 
tion, that  certain  phoenomena  are  found  to  suc- 
iii.  Objective— In-       ceed  certain  other  phaenomena,  and  the  general- 

duction.      Generaliza-  .         .  ,  i  i  . 

^j^jj  ization  consequent  thereon,  that  these  are  recip- 

"•(       t  rocnlly  causes  and  effects,  could  never  of  itself 

have  engendered  not  only  the  strong  but  the  irresistible  belief,  that 
every  event  must  have  its  cause.  Each  of  these  observations  is  con- 
tingent; 'and-  any  number  of  observed  contingencies  will  never  im- 
pose upon' us  the  feeling  of  necessity,  —  of  our  inability  to  think  the 
opposite.  Nay  more;  this  theory  evolves  the  absolute  notion  of 
causalitv  out  of  the  observation  of  a  certain  number  of  uniform 
consecutions  among  phienomena.  But  we  find  no  difliculty  what- 
ever in  conceiving  the  reverse  of  all  or  any  of  the  consecutions  we 
have  observed ;  and  yet  the  general  notion  of  causality,  which,  ex 
hypothesis  is  their  result,  Ave  cannot  possibly  think  as  possibly 
unreal.      We  have  always  seen  a  stone  fall  to  the  ground,  when  . 

thrown  into  the  air,  but  we  find  no  difficulty  in  representing  to  our- 
selves the  possibility  of  one  or  all  stones  gravitating  from  the  earth  ; 
only  we  cannot  conceive  the  possibility  of  this,  or  any  other  event, 
happening  without  a  cause. 

Nor  <loes  the  latter,  —  the  fourth   theory,  —  that  of  Custom  or 
Association,  —  afford   a  better   solution.      The  attribute  of  neces 


Lect.  XXXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  545 

sity  cannot  be  derived  from  custom.     Allow  the  force  of  custom  to 

be  srreat  as  mav  be,  still  it  is  always  limited  to 

IV.  Subjective-       ^j^^  customarv,  and  the  customary  has  nothini' 

Ai-sociatioii.  •       •"       r>     ,  i> 

whatever  in  it  ot  the  necessary,  but  we  havu 
here  to  account  not  for  a  strong,  but  for  an  absolutely  irresistible, 
belief  On  this  theory,  also,  the  causal  judgment,  when  association 
is  recent,  should  be  weak,  and  sliould  only  gradually  acquire  its  full 
force  in  pro])ortion  as  custom  becomes  inveterate.  But  do  we  find 
that  the  causal  judgment  is  weaker  in  the  young,  stronger  in  the* 
old?  There  is  no  difference.  In  either  case  there  is  no  less  and  no 
more;  the  necessity  in  both  is  absolute.  Mr.  ITume  patronized  the 
opinion,  that  the  notion  of  causality  is  the  offspring  of  experience 
ensrendered  uijon  custom.'  l>ut  those  have  a  sorrv  insight  into  the 
philosophy  of  that  great  thinker,  wlio  suppose  that  this  was  a  dog- 
matic theory  of  his  own.  On  the  contrary,  in  his  hands,  it  was  a 
mere  reduction  of  dogmatism  to  absurdity  by  showing  the  inconsis- 
tency of  its  i-esults.  To  the  Lockian  sensualism,  Hume  proposed 
the  problem,  —  to  account  for  the  pha3nomenon  of  necessity  in  our 
notion  of  the  causal  nexus.  That  philosophy  afforded  no  other 
]>rinciple  through  which  even  the  attempt  at  a  solution  could  be 
made; — and  tlie  ])rinciple  of  custom,  Hume  shows,  could  not  fur 
nish  a  real  necessity.  The  alternative  was  2)l:un.  P^ither  the  doc- 
trine of  sensualism  is  false,  or  our  nature  is  a  delusion.  Shallow 
thinkers  adopted  the  latter  alternative,  and  were  lost;  profound 
thinkers,  on  the  contrary,  were  determined  to  lay  a  deeper  founda- 
tion of  i)hilosophy  than  that  of  the  superficial  edifice  ot"  Lcoke  ;  and 
thus  it  is  that  Hume  became  the  cause  or  the  occasion  .  f  all  that  is 
of  principal  value  in  our  more  recent  metaphysics.  Hume  is  the 
parent  of  tlie  jihilosophy  of  Kant,  and,  through  Kant,  of  tlie  whole 
philosophy  of  (iermany;  he  is  tlie  ))arent  of  the  philosophy  of  Keid 
and  Stewart  in  Scotland,  and  of  all  that  is  of  preeminent  note  in 
the  metaphysics  of  France  and  Italy.  —  But  to  return. 

I  now  come  to  the  second  category  (B),  and  to  the  first  of  the 
four  particular  heads  which  it  likewise  contains, 

V.  Aspeciaipriuci-       _ ^j^^  opinion,  namely,  that  the  judtrment,  that 

pie  of  intelliKonce.  •  '        ' 

evei-ything  tliat  begins  to  be  must  have  a  cause, 
is  a  simple  j)rimary  datum,  a  jiositive  revelation  of  intelligence.  To 
this  head  are  to  be  referreil  the  tlieories  on  causality  of  Descartes, 
Leibnitz,  Heid,  Stewart,  Kant,  Ficlite,  Cousin,  and  the  majority  of 
recent  philosophers.     This  is  the  fifth  theory  in  order. 


1  [On  IIume'8  theory.  See  PUtner,  Phil  Aph.  q.  i.  }  850,  p  486-6;  edit.  1798.1 

69 


I 


646  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIX 

Dr.  Brown  has  promulgated  a  doctrine  of  Causality,  which  may 

be  numbered  as  the  sixth ;  though  perhaps  it  is 

VI.  Expectation  of      i^^rdlv  deserving  of  distinct  enumeration.     He 

the  constancy  of  na-  -'  .™,  i-i  ^  •    \    ^ 

^„re.  actually  identifies  the  causal  judgment,  Avhich  to 

us  is  necessary,  with  the  principle  by  which  we 
are  merely  inclined  to  believe  in  the  uniformity  of  nature's  opera- 
tions. 

Superseding  any  articulate  consideration  of  this  opinion,  and  re- 
verting to  the  fifth,  much  might  be  said  in  relation  to  the  several 
modifications  of  this  opinion,  as  held  by  different  philosophers;  but 
I  must  content  myself  with  a  brief  criticism  of  the  doctrine  in  refer- 
ence to  its  most  general  features. 

Now  it  is  manifest,  that,  against  the  assumption  of  a  special  prin- 
ciple, which  this  doctrine  makes,  there  exists  a  primary  presumption 
of  philosophy.     This  is  the  law  of  Parcimony,  which  forbids,  without 

necessity,  the  multiplication  of  entities,  powers. 

Fifth  opinion  criti-       principles,  or  causes ;  above  all  the  postulatiou  of 

*''^^, '.  an  unknown  force,  Avhere  a  known  impotence  can 

1  rimary     presump-  '  i 

lion  of  philosophy  account  for  the  effect.  We  are,  therefore,  enti- 
aRaiust  assumption  of  i\q^  ^q  apply  Occam's  razor  to  this  theory  of 
special   princip  e    o        causalitv,  unless  it  be  proved  impossible  to  ex- 

causality.  •'  ^ 

plain  the  causal  judgment  at  a  cheaper  rate,  by 

deriving  it  from  a  higher  and  that  a  negative  origin.     On  a  c[octrine 

like  the  present  is  thrown  the  onus  of  vindicating  its  necessity,  by 

showing  that  unless  a  special  and  positive  principle  be  assumed,  there 

exists  no  competent  mode  to  save  the  phtenomena.     It  can  only, 

therefore,  be  admitted  provisorily;  and  it  falls  of  course,  if  the  phte- 

nomenon  it  would  explain  can  be  explained  on  less  onerous  conditions. 

Leaving,  therefore,  the  theory  to  stand  or  fall  according  as  the 

two  remaining  opinions  are  or  are  not  found 

VII.  The  principle       insufficient,  I  proceed  to  the  consideration  of 

of  Non-Contradiction.  r^,  ,  i  -,       ■  -i  • 

these.  The  first,  —  the  seventh,  is  a  doctruie 
that  has  long  been  exploded.  It  attempts  to  establish  the  princii)le 
of  Causality  upon  the  principle  of  Contradiction.  Leibnitz  was  too 
acute  a  metaphysician  to  attempt  to  prove  the  princii)le  of  Sufficient 
Reason  or  Causality,  which  is  an  ampliative  or  synthetic  })iinciple, 
by  the  principle  of  contradiction,  which  is  merely  explicative  or  ana 
lytic.  But  his  followers  were  not  so  wise.  Wolf,^  Baumgarten,' 
and  many  other  Leibnitzians,  paraded  demonstrations  of  the  law  of 
the  Sufficient  Reason  on  the  ground  of  the  law  of  Contradiction  j 


1  [Ontologia,  ^  70.]  ZurfichfndeT  Grund.     Zedler,  Lfxikon,v.  Oaur 

3  [Metaphysik,  i  IS]    [Cf.W&Wh,  Lexikon  v.      salitdt.] 


2 


Lect.  XXXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  541 

but  the  reasoning  always  proceeds  on  the  covert  assumption  of  the 
very  point  in  question.  The  same  argument  is,  however,  at  an  ear- 
lier date,  to  be  found  in  Locke,^  and  modifications  of  it  in  Hobbes* 
and  Clarke.''  Hume,*  who  was  only  aware  of  the  argument  as  in  the 
hands  of  the  P^nglish  metaphysicians,  has  given  it  a  refutation,  which 
has  earned  the  aj)probation  of  Reid;  and  by  foreign  philosophers  its 
emptiness,  in  the  hands  of  the  Wolfian  metaphysicians,  has  frequently 
been  exposed.''  Listen  to  the  pretended  demonstration:  —  What- 
ever is  produced  without  a  cause,  is  produced  by  nothing;  in  other 

words,  has  nothing  for  its  cause.     But  nothing 
fallacy  of  the  sup-       ^..^^^  ^^^  more  be  a  cause  than  it  can  be  something. 

posed  demoustriitiou.  ....  , 

1  he  same  intuition  that  makes  us  aware,  that 
nothing  is  not  something,  shows  us  that  everything  must  have  a 
real  cause  of  its  existence.  To  this  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  the 
existence  of  causes  being  the  point  in  question,  the  existence  of 
causes  must  not  be  taken  for  granted,  in  the  very  reasoning  which 
attempts  to  pi-ove  their  reality.  In  excluding  causes  we  exclude  all 
causes;  and  consequently  exclude  nothing  considered  as  a  cause  ;  it 
is  not,  therefore,  allowable,  contrary  to  that  exclusion,  to  suppose 
nothing  as  a  cause,  and  then  from  the  absurdity  of  that  supposition 
to  infer  the  absurdity  of  the  exclusion  itself  If  everything  must 
have  a  cause,  it  follows  that,  upon  the  exclusion  of  other  causes,  we 
must  accept  of  nothing  as  a  cause.  But  it  is  the  very  point  at  issue, 
M'hether  everything  must  have  a  cause  or  not ;  and,  therefore,  it 
violates  the  first  principles  of  i-easoning  to  take  this  qua3situm  itself 
as  granted.     This  opinion  is  now  universally  abandoned. 

The  eighth  and  last  opinion  is  that  which  regards  the  judgment 

of  causality  as  derived  ;  and  derives  it  not  fiom 
Mil     iiic  Law  (if       .^  i)ower,  but  from  an  impotence,  of  mind:  in  a 

the    ('oiiditioued.  .•i^i/^t- 

word,  fniin  the  ])rinci])le  ol  the  Conditional.  I 
do  not  think  it  possible,  without  a  detailed  ex])osition  of  the  various 
categories  of  thought,  to  make  you  fully  understand  the  grouiul.s 
and  bearings  of  this  opinion.  In  attempting  to  explain,  you  must, 
therefore,  allow  me  to  take  for  granted  certain  laws  of  thought,  to 
which  I  have  only  been  al)le  incidentally  to  allude.     Those,  how- 

I  [Essiii/,  book  iv.  c.  10,   ^  3      llorAs  i.  p.  4   Trtat  of  Hum.  Natuif,h  i.  p.  iii.  ■•  3.    Cf 

294.]    [This  is  doubtless  tlie  passage  of  Locke  Reid,  Works,  p.  455      Stewart,  Dissert.  Works, 

which  is  criticized  l)y  Umni-  (Treat,  of  Hum.  i   p.  441.  — Ei> 

.V(ir.,b    i   p   1.  §  15);  l)iit  it  will  hardly  bear  the  •*■  (Sci'   Wnlch,    />.t   c.    /.urridiendrr    Grunil. 

iiitrrprct:itioii  put  upon  it  by  Hume  and  Sir  Uiedcrmanni   Arin    Srholastica,  t.  vii.  p.  120, 

W.  lliiinilton  —  Kn.]  Schwab,     Prti\.<irlirifltn    ilhrr    die     Mrinphysiky 

'^  Of  Lihfrty  ant/  Necessity,  iroritj,  edit.  Moles-  p.  149.     LossiuK,  Lexikon,  v.    CaussalitM,  i.  p 

worth,  vol.  iv.  p  276  —  Ed.  669.] 

S    [  Demonstralion,   p.   9,   alibi.      See   aUo    S. 
liravctiuude,  Introd.  ad  Pliit.  §  80-] 


548  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XXXIX. 

ever,  which  I  postulate,  are  such  as  are  now  generally  admitted  by 
all  pliilosophers  who  allow  the  mind  itself  to  be  a  source  of  cogni- 
tions ;  and  the  only  one  which  has  not  been  recognized  by  them, 
but  which,  as  I  endeavored  briefly  to  prove  to  you  in  my  last  Lec- 
ture, must  likewise  be  taken  into  account,  is  the  Law  of  the  Condi- 
tioned,—  the  law  that  the  conceivable  has  always  two  opposite 
extremes,  and  that  the  extremes  are  equally  inconceivable.  That 
the  Conditioned  is  to  be  viewed,  not  as  a  power,  but  as  a  j)owerles3- 
ncss,  of  mind,  is  evinced  by  this,  —  that  the  two  extremes  are  con- 
tradictories, and,  as  contradictories,  though  neither'  alternative  can 
be  conceived,  —  thought  as  possible,  one  or  other  must  be  admitted 
to  be  necessary. 

Philosophers,  who  allow  a  native  principle  to  the  mind  at  all, 
allow  that  Existence  is  such  a  principle.  I  shall,  therefore,  take  for 
granted  Existence  as  the  highest  category  or  condition  of  thought. 
As  I   noticed  to  you   in   my  last  Lecture,^  no   thought  is   jjossible 

except  imder  this  category.     All  that  we  per- 
Judgment  of  Caus-       qqIyq  or  imagine  as  different  from  us,  we  perceive 

alitv,    how     deduced  .  .  ,  .        ,       ,  .  a  n      i 

from  this  law.  ^*"  niii^gine  as  objectively  existent.     All  that  we 

Categories  of  thought.       '^i'^  conscious  of  as  an  act  or  modification  of  self, 
J,  .  we   are   conscious  of  only  as  subjectively  exist- 

ent. All  thought,  therefore,  implies  the  thought 
of  existence ;  and  this  is  the  veritable  exposition  of  the  enthymeme 
of  Descartes,  —  Cogito  ergo  sum.  I  cannot  think  that  I  think, 
without  thinking  that  I  exist,  —  I  cannot  be  conscious,  without 
being  conscious  that  I  am.  Let  existence,  then,  be  laid  down  as  a 
necessary  form  of  thought.  As  a  second  category  or  subjective  con- 
dition of  thought,  I  postulate  that  of  Time. 
This,  likewise,  cannot  be  denied  me.  It  is  the 
necessary  condition  of  every  conscious  act ;  thought  is  only  realized 
to  us  as  in  succession,  and  succession  is  only  conceived  by  us  under 
the  concept  of  time.  Existence  and  existence  in  Time  is  thus  an 
elementary  form  of  our  intelligence. 

But  we  do  not  conceive  existence  in  time  absolutely  or  infinitely, 
—  we  conceive  it  only  as  conditioned  in  time; 

'.'he  Conditioned.  ,    _    .  ^       ^ .  .  -,    .       ^„. 

and  Existence  Conditioned  in  iime  expresses, 
at  once  and  in  relation,  the  three  categories  of  thought,  which  afford 
ns  in  combination  the  principle  of  Causality.  This  requires  some 
explanation. 

When  we  perceive  or  imagine  an  object,  we  perceive  or  imagine 
t —  1°,  As  existent,  and,  2°,  As  in  Time;  Existence  and  Time  be- 

1  p.  526.  — Ed. 


Lect.  XXXIX.  METAPHYSICS.  549 

ing  categories  of  all  thought.     But  what  is  meant  by  saying,  I  per- 
ceive, or  imagine,  or,  in  general,  think,  an  ob- 
ExLotence    Condi-      j^.(,t  only  as  I  perccive,  or  imagine,  or,  in  general, 

tioned  in  Time  affords         ^i  •    i     -^  ^  •   xo     o*         i      ^.i  •  ^\     j.  ^i  •    i 

.    .,      ,„  thnik  it  to  exist  .•*    bimplvthis;  —  that,  as  think- 

the  principle   of  Cans-  _  .  '       .  .         . 

ajity  ing  it,  I   cannot  but  think  it  to  exist,  in  other 

words,  that  I  cannot  annihilate  it  in  thought.  I 
may  think  away  from  it,  I  may  turn  to  other  tilings ;  and  I  can  tlius 
exclude  it  from  my  consciousness ;  but,  actually  thinking  it,  I  can- 
not think  it  as  non-existent,  for  as  it  is  thought,  so  it  is  thought 

existent. 

.    .  .*• 

But  a  thinar  is  thouoht  to  exist,  onlv  as  it  is  thouqht  to  exist  in 

time.  Time  is  present,  past,  and  future.  We  cannot  think  an 
object  of  thought  as  non-existent  de  presently  —  as  actually  an  object 
of  thought.  But  can  we  think  that  quantum  of  existence  ot  which 
an  object,  real  or  ideal,  is  the  complement,  as  non-existent,  either  in 
time  past,  or  in  time  future  ?  Make  the  experiment.  Try  to  think 
the  object  of  your  thought  as  non-existent  in  the  moment  before 
the  present.  —  You  cannot.  Try  it  in  the  moment  before  that.  — 
You  cannot.  Nor  can  you  annihilate  it  by  carrying  it  back  to  any 
moment,  however  distant  in  the  past.  You  may  conceive  the  ])arts- 
of  which  this  complement  of  existence  is  conii)Osed,  as  separated; 
if  a  material  object,  you  can  think  it  as  shivered  to  atoms,  subli- 
mated into  aether;  but  not  one  iota  of  existence  can  you  conceive 
as  annihilated,  which  subsequently  you  thought  to  exist.  In  like 
manner  try  the  future, — try  to  conceive  the  prospective  annihila- 
tion of  any  present  object,  —  of  any  atom  of  any  present  object. — • 
You  cannot.  All  this  mny  be  possible,  but  of  it  we  cannot  think 
the  possibility.  But  if  you  can  thus  conceive  neither  the  absolute 
commencement  nor  the  absolute  termination  of  anything  that  is 
once  tiiought  to  exist,  try,  on  the  other  hand,  if  you  can  conceive 
the  opposite  alternative  of  infinite  non-commencement,  of  intinito 
non-termination.  T(j  this  you  are  equally  impotent.  This  is  tho 
category  of  the  Conditioned,  as  applied  to  the  category  of  Exist- 
ence under  the  category  of  Time. 

But  in  this  application  is  the  ]trinciple  of  Causality  not  given? 
Why,  what  is  the  law  of  Causality  V  Simply  thi.s,  —  that  wlu-n  an 
object  is  presented  j)haMiomenally  as  commencing,  we  cannot  but 
suppose  that  the  complement  of  existence,  which  it  now  contains, 
has  previously  been  ;  —  in  other  words,  that  all  that  wc  at  present 
come  to  know  as  an  effect  must  previously  have  existed  in  its 
causes;  though  what  these  causes  are  we  may  perhaps  be  alti^gether 
unable  even  to  surmise. 


I 


LECTURE     XL. 

THB   REGULATIVE   FACULTY.  — LAW  OF   THE   CONDITIONED,  IN 
ITS  APPLICATIONS.  —  CAUSALITY. 

Our  last  Lecture  was  principally  occupied  in  giving  a  systematic 
view  and   a   summary  criticism   of  the  various 

Recapitulation.  ..  ^     ,  •,  i  t.i  •    •        r- 

opinions  oi  philosophers,  regarding  the  origm  ot 
that  inevitable  necessity  of  our  nature,  which  compels  us  to  refuse 
any  real  commencement  of  existence  to  the  phaenomena  which  arise 
in  and  around  us ;  in  other  M'ords,  that  necessity  of-  our  nature, 
under  which  we  cannot  but  conceive  everything  that  occurs,  to  be 
an  effect,  that  is,  to  be  something  consequent,  which,  as  wholly 
derived  from,  may  be  wholly  refunded  into,  something  antecedent. 
The  opinions  of  philosophers  with  regard  to  the  genealogy  of  this 
claim  of  thought,  may  be  divided  into  two  summa  genera  or  cate- 
gories ;  as  all  opinions  on  this  point  view  the  Causal  Judgment  either, 
1°,  As  resting  immediately  or  mediately  on  experience,  or  2°,  As  rest- 
ing immediately  or  mediately  on  a  native  principle  of  the  mind  itself; 
—  in  short,  all  theories  of  causality  make  it  either  a  posteriori  or 
Empirical,  or  make  it  a  priori  or  Pure. 

I  shall  not  acrain  enumerate  the  various  subordinate  doctrines  into 
which  the  former  category  is  subdivided ;  and,  in  relation  to  all  of 
these,  it  is  enough  to  say  that  they  are  one  and  all  wholly  worth- 
less, as  wholly  incapable  of  accounting  for  the  quality  of  necessity, 
by  which  we  are  conscious  that  the  causal  judgment  is  character- 
ized. 

The  opinions  which  fall  under  the  second  category  are  not  obnox- 
ious to  this  sweeping  objection  (except  Brown's),  as  they  are  all 
ecpially  competent  to  save  the  jtluenomenon  of  a  subjective  necessity. 
Ot"  the  three  opinions  (I  discount  Brown's)  under  this  head,  one 
supposes  that  the  law  of  Causality  is  a  positive  affirmation,  and  a 
primary  fact  of  thought,  incapable  of  all  further  analysis.  The  other 
two,  on  the  contrary,  view  it  as  a  negative  principle,  and  as  capable 
of  resolution  into  a  hisrher  law. 


LecT.   XL.  METAPHYSICS.  551 

Of  tliese,  the  first  opinion  (the  sixtli)  is  opposed  in  limi7ie^  by  the 
jn-esunii)ti()n  of  pliilosoj)hy  against  the  multiplication  of  special  prin- 
<-ipk's.  By  the  law  of  Parcimony,  the  assumption  of  a  special  prin- 
ple  can  only  be  leuitimated  by  its  necessity  ;  and  that  necessity  only 
emerges  if  the  pluenomenon  to  be  explained  can  be  explained  by  no 
known  and  ordinary  causes.  The  possible  validity  of  this  theory, 
therefore,  depends  on  the  two  others  being  actually  found  incom- 
l)etent.  As  postulating  no  special,  no  new,  no  positive  principle,  and 
j)rofessing  to  account  for  the  phtenomenon  upon  a  common  and  a 
negative  ground,  they  possess  a  primary  presumption  in  their  favor; 
and  if  one  or  other  be  found  to  afford  us  a  possible  solution  of  the 
])roblom,  we  need  not,  nay,  we  are  not  entitled  to,  look  beyond. 

Of  these  two  theories,  the  one  (the  seventh)  attempts  to  analyze 
the  j)rinciple  of  Causality  into  the  principle  of  Contradiction ;  the 
other  (the  eighth),  into  the  i)rinciple  of  the  Conditioned.  The  for- 
mer has  been  long  exploded,  and  is  now  universally  abandoned.  The 
attempt  to  demonstrate  that  a  negation  of  causes  involves  an  affirma- 
tion of  two  contradictory  propositions,  has  been  shown  to  be  delu- 
sive, as  the  demonstration  only  proceeds  on  a  virtual  assumption  of 

the  point  in  (piestion.  The  field,  therefore,  is  left 
•rhe  law  of  Causality       ^p^,,^  ^-^j.  ^i,^.  j.^^^  (^1,^,  eighth),  which  endeavors  to 

constitufcdbv  (lie  law  ,  ,    i  i  ■• /^  i-^      •    ^      ^i 

...    „     ,.;.       ,  analvze  the  mental  law  or  Causality  into  tlie  men- 

(>1  the  Conditioned.  •  _  •' 

tal  law  of  the  Conditioned,  This  theory,  which 
has  not  hitherto  been  proposed,  is  recommended  by  its  extreme 
.simplicity.  It  ])ostulates  no  new,  no  special,  no  positive  principle.  It 
only  sui)poses  th:it  tlic  mind  is  limited;  and  the  law  of  limitation,  the 

law  of  tiie  Conditioned,  in  one  of  its  applications, 
The  law  of  the  Co...       ^.^^^titutes  the  law  of  Causality.     The  mind  is 

ditioiied  .  •       {>  i  i 

necessitate*!  to  tluiik  certain  lorms ;  antl,  under 
these  forms,  thought  is  only  possil)]c  in  llic  interval  between  two 
contradictory  extremes,  both  ot"  wliich  are  absolutely  inconceivable, 
but  one  of  which,  on  the  principle  of  Excluded  jNIiddlc,  is  necessarily 
true.  Ill  reference  to  the  i)resent  subject,  it  is  only  reijuisite  to  spec- 
ifv  two  of  tliese  forms,  —  Existence  and  Time.  I  showed  you  that 
thought  is  only  possible  under  the  native  conceptions,  —  the  a  jjn'ori 
forms,  —  of  existence  and  time;  in  other  words,  the  notions  of  ex- 
istence and  time  are  essential  elements  of  every  act  of  intelligence. 
But  wliilc  the  mind  is  thus  astricted  to  certain  necessary  modes 
or  forms  of  thought,  in  these  tbrms  it  can  only  think  under  certain 
conditions.  Thus,  while  obliged  to  think  under  the  thought  of  time, 
it  cannot  conceive,  on  the  one  hand,  the  absolute  cornmeiu'ement  of 
time,  and  it  cannot  conceive,  t)n  the  other,  the  intinite  non-commence- 
ment of  time  ;   in  like  manner,  on  the  one  hand,  it  cannot  conceive 


552  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XL. 

an  absolute  minimum  of  time,  nor  yet,  on  the  other,  can  it  conceive 
the  infinite  divisibility  of  time.  Yet  these  form  two  pairs  of  contra- 
dictories, that  is,  of  counter-propositions,  which,  if  our  intelligence 
be  not  all  a  lie,  cannot  both  be  true,  but  of  which,  on  the  same 
authority,  one  necessarily  must  be  true.  This  proves  :  1°,  That  it  is 
not  competent  to  argue,  that  what  cannot  be  comprehended  as  pos- 
sible by  us,  is  impossible  in  reality ;  and  2°,  That  the  necessities  of 
thought  are  not  always  positive  powers  of  cognition,  but  often 
neo-ative  inabilities  to  know.  The  law  of  mind,  that  all  tliat  is  pos- 
itively  conceivable,  lies  in  the  interval  between  two  inconceivable  ^ 

extremes,  and  which,  however  palpable  when  stated,  has  never  been 
generalized,  as  far  as  I  know,  by  any  philosopher,  I  call  the  Law  or 
Princi])le  of  the  Conditioned. 

Thus,  the  whole  jihicnomenon  of  causality  seems  to  me  to  be  noth- 
ing more  than  the  law  of  the  Conditioned,  in  its 
This  law  in  its  ap-       application  to  a  thing  thought  under  the  form  or 
plication  to  a  tiling       mental   category  of  Existence,  and    under   the 
thought  under  Exist-       ^^^.^^^  ^^.  ^^^^^j  category  of  Time.     We  cannot 

ence  and  Time,  affords  ^ 

the  phenomenon  of  know,  wc  cannot  think  a  thing,  except  as  exist- 
Causaiity  ing,  that  is,  under  the  category  of  existence ;  and 

we  cannot  know  or  think  a  thing  as  existing,  ex- 
cept in  time.  Now  the  application  of  the  law  of  the  conditioned  to 
any  object,  thought  as  existent,  and  thought  as  in  time,  will  give  us 
at  once  the  phaenomenon  of  causality.  And  thus:  —  An  object  is 
given  us,  either  by  sense  or  suggestion,  —  imagination.  As  known, 
we  cannot  but  think  it  existent,  and  in  time.  But  to  say  that 
we  cannot  but  think  it  to  exist,  is  to  say,  that  we  are  unable 
to  think  it  non-existent,  that  is,  that  we  are  unable  to  annihilate 
it  in  thought.  And  tliis  we  cannot  do.  We  may  turn  aside  from 
it;  we  may  occupy  our  attention  with  other  objects;  and  we 
may  thus  exclude  it  from  our  thoughts.  This  is  certain :  we  need 
not  think  it ;  but  it  is  equally  certain,  that  thinking  it,  we  cannot 
think  it  not  to  exist.  This  will  be  at  once  admitted  of  the  present; 
but  it  may  possibly  be  denied  of  the  past  and  future.  But  if  we 
make  the  experiment,  we  shall  find  the  mental  annihilation  of  an 
object  equally  impossible  under  time  i>ast,  present,  or  future.     To 

obviate  misapprehension,  however,  I  must  make 

Annihilation    and       ^  y^iy  simple  observation.     When  I  say  that  it 

Creation,  -  as     con-       .^  impossible  to  annihilate  an  object  in  thought  — 

ceived  by  us.  *  .  . 

in  other  words,  to  conceive  it  as  non-existent,— 
It  is  of  course  not  meant  that  it  is  impossible  to  imagine  the  object 
wholly  changed  in  form.  We  can  figure  to  ourselves  the  elements 
of  which   it   is   composed,  distributed   and  arranged   and  modified 


Lect.  XL.  METAPHYSICS.  553: 

in  ten  thousand  forms,  —  \ve  can  imagine  anything  of  it,  short  of 
annihilation.  But  the  complement,  the  quantum,  of  existence,  which 
is  realized  in  any  object,  —  that  we  can  represent  to  ourselves, 
either  as  increased,  without  abstraction  from  other  bodies,  or  as 
diminished,  without  addition  to  them.  In  short,  we  are  unable  to 
consti'ue  it  in  thought,  tliat  there  can  be  an  atom  absolutely  added 
to,  or  an  atom  absolutely  taken  away  from,  existence  in  general. 
Make  the  experiment.  Form  to  yourselves  a  notion  of  the  universe; 
now  can  you  conceive  that  the  quantity  of  existence,  of  which  the 
universe  is  the  sum,  is  either  am))litied  or  diminished?  You  can 
conceive  the  creation  of  a  world  as  lightly  as  you  conceive  the 
creation  of  an  atom.  But  what  is  a  creation  ?  It  is  not  the  springing 
nf  nothing  into  something.  Far  from  it :  - —  it  is  conceived,  and  is  by 
us  conceivable,  merely  as  the  evolution  of  a  new  form  of  existence,^ 
by  the  fiat  of  the  Deity.  Let  us  su])itoso  the  very  crisis  of  creation. 
Can  we  realize  it  to  ourselves,  in  thought,  that,  the  moment  after  the 
universe  came  into  manifested  being,  there  was  a  larger  complement 
of  existence  in  the' universe  and  its  Author  together,  than  there  was 
the  moment  before,  in  tlic  Deity  himself  alone?  This  we  cannot 
imagine.  What  I  have  now  said  of  our  conceptions  of  creation, 
holds  true  of  our  conceptions  of  annihilation.  "We  can  conceive  no 
real  annihilation,  —  no  absolute  sinking  of  something  into  nothing. 
But,  as  creation  is  cogitable  by  us  only  as  an  exertion  of  divine 
power,  so  annilmation  is  only  to  be  conceived  by  us  as  a  withdrawal 
of  the  divine  support,  ^vll  that  there  is  now  actually  of  existence  in 
the  imiverse,  we  conceive  as  having  virtually  existed,  prior  to  crea- 
tion, in  the  Creator;  and  in  imagining  the  universe  to  be  annihilated 
by  its  Author,  we  can  only  imagine  this,  as  the  retractation  of  an 
outward  energy  into  power.  All  this  shows  how  impossible  it  is  for 
the  human  mind  to  think  aught  that  it  thinks,  as  non-existent  either 
in  time  j)ast  or  in  time  future. 

[^  Our  inability  to  think,  what  we  have  once  conceived  existent  in 

Time,  as  in  time  becoming  non-existent,  corre- 

oiir  inability  to  think       spouds  with  our  inability  to  think,  what  wi-  have 

augiitasextnuied  iiom       conccivcd  cxistcnt  iu  Space,  as  in  space  becoming 

space  gives  till'  luw  of  .  ..^  i-        •  11 

Litimate    incompres-       non-cxistcut.     ^^  c  Cannot  realize  it  to  thought, 

^ibilil>■.  that  a  thing  should  be  extriuled,  either  from  the 

one  quantity  or  the  other.    Hence,  under  exten- 
sion, the  law  of  Ultimate  Incompressibility ;  under  protension,  the 
law  of  Cause  and  Effect.] 
We  have  been  hitherto  speaking  only  of  one  inconceivable  extreme 

1  Supplied  fri>in  /)-5'imi«ii.«,  p.  Cijf)   —  Ki» 

70 


654  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XL. 

of  the  conditioned,  in  its  application  to  the  category  of  existence  in  the 

category  of  time,  —  the  extreme  of  absolute  com- 
The  infinite  regress       mencement ;  the  other  is  equally  incotnprehen- 

of   Time  no  less  iucon-  .,,       ^\     ^    •      ^-i  ,..,.. 

ceivabie  than  its  ab-  ^'^^^'  ^'^^^  '"'  ^^^  extreme  ot  mhnite  regress  or 
*^oiute commencement.       non-commencement.     With  this  latter  we  have, 

however,  at  present  nothing  to  do.  [  J  Indeed, 
as  not  obtrusive,  the  Infinite  figures  far  less  in  the  theatre  of  mind, 
and  exerts  a  far  inferior  influence  in  the  modification  of  thousrht 
than  the  Absolute.  It  is,  in  flict,  both  distant  and  deUtescent ;  and 
in  place  of  meeting  us  at  every  turn,  it  requires  some  exertion  on  our 
part  to  seek  it  out.]     It  is  the  former  alone,  —  it  is  the  inability  we 

experience  of  annihilating  in  thought  an  exist- 

Our  inability  to  con-       cuce  in  time  past,  in  other  words,  our  utter  ini- 

ceive  existence  as  ab-       potencc   of  conceiving   its   absolute  commence- 

•solutely  beginning  in  .        ,  .  -,  ,    . 

time,  constitutes  the  "'^"t'  ^^^^t  constitutes  and  explams  the  whole 
phenomenon  of  cans-  phaenomcnon  of  causaHtv.  An  object  is  pre- 
*''^y-  sented   to  our  observation  which  has   phaenom- 

enally  begun  to  be.  Well,  we  cannot  realize 
it  in  thought  that  the  object,  that  is,  this  determinate  complement 
of  existence,  had  really  no  being  at  any  past  moment ;  because  this 
supposes  that,  once  thinking  it  as  existent,  we  could  again  think  it  as 
non-existent,  which  is  for  us  impossible.  What,  then,  can  we  do  : 
Tliat  the  plireiiomenon  presented  to  us  began,  as  a  phaenomenon,  to 
be,  —  tiiis  we  know  by  experience  ;  but  that  the  elements  of  its 
existence  only  began,  when  the  phaenomenon  they  constitute  came 
into  being,  —  this  we  are  wholly  unable  to  represent  in  thought.  In 
these  circumstances,  how  do  we  proceed  ?  —  How  must  we  proceed  ? 
There  is  only  one  jjossible  mode.  We  are  compelled  to  believe  that 
the  object  (that  is,  a  certain  quale  and  quantum  of  being)  whose 
phaenomenal  rise  into  existence  we  have  witnessed,  did  really  exist, 
prior  to  this  lise,  under  other  forms  ;  ^  [and  by/omi,  be  it  observed, 
I  mean  any  mode  of  existence,  conceivable  by  ns  or  not].  But  to 
say  that  a  thing  previously  existed  under  diiFerent  forms,  is  only  in 
other  words  to  say,  that  a  thing  had  causes.     I  have  already  noticed 

to  you  the  en-or  of  philosoj)hers  in  supposing, 
Of  Second   Causes       that   anything   can   have   a   single   cause.      Of 

there  must  be  at  least  t  i  ^         o  c^  t^  ^  n    ■, 

course,  1  speak  only  of  Second  Causes.     Of  the 

a  concurrence  ot  two,  .  *  •  _  .       ^^    ■^ 

to  constitute  an  etrect^       causatiou  of  the  Deity  we  can  form  jio  possible 

conception.  Of  second  causes,  I  say,  there  must 
almost  always  be  at  least  a  concurrence  of  two  to  constitute  an  effect. 
Take  the  example  of  vapor.  Here  to  say  that  heat  is  the  cause  of 
evaporation,  is  a  very  inaccurate,  —  at  least  a  very  inadequate  ex- 

1  Supplied  from  D/scimions, p.  621.— Ed.         2  Supplied  from  Divimxionx,  p.  fi21  —  Kd, 


Lect.  XL.  METAPHYSICS.  55ft 

pression.  Water  is  as  much  the  cause  of  evaporation  as  heat.  But 
heat  and  water  together  are  the  causes  of  the  phsenomenon.  Nay, 
there  is  a  third  concause  which  we  have  forgot,  —  the  atmosphere. 
Now,  a  cloud  is  the  result  of  these  three  concurrent  causes  or  con- 
stituents ;  and,  knowing  this,  we  find  no  difficulty  in  carrying  back 
the  complement  of  existence,  which  it  contains  prior  to  its  appear- 
ance. But  on  the  hypothesis,  that  we  are  not  aware  wliat  are  the 
real  constituents  or  causes  of  the  cloud,  tlie  human  mind  must  still 
perforce  suppose  some  unknown,  some  hypothetical,  antecedents,  into 
which  it  mentally  refunds  all  the  existence  which  the  cloud  is  thought 
to  contain. 

Nothing  can  be  a  greater  error  in  itself,  or  a  more  fertile  cause  of 

delusion,  than  the  common  doctrine,  that  the 

To  suppose  that  the       causal  judgment  is  elicited  only  when  we  appre- 

causai    ju.igment    is       j^^^^^^  objects  in  consccution,  and  uniform  conse- 

elicited  only  by  objects  .  ^r- 

in  uniform  coiisecu-  cution.  Of  course,  the  observation  of  such  suc- 
tion, iH  erroneous.  cession  prompts  and  enables  us  to  assign  ])articu- 

lar  causes  to  particular  effects.  But  this  consid- 
eration ought  to  be  carefully  distinguished  from  the  law  of  Caus- 
.'ility,  absolutely,  which  consists  not  in  the  em|)irical  attribution  of 
this  phsenomenon,  as  cause,  to  that  phaenoraenou  as  effect,  but  in 
the  universal  necessity  of  which  Ave  are  conscious,  to  think  causes 
for  every  event,  wliether  that  event  stand  isolated  by  itself,  and 
be  by  us  referable  to  no  other,  or  whether  it  be  one  in  a  series  of 
successive  phaniomena,  which,  as  it  were,  spontaneously  arrange 
themselves  under  the  relation  of  effect  and  cause.  [^Of  no  plue- 
nomenon,  as  observed,  need  we  think  tlie  cause;  but  of  every  ])ha'- 
nomenon,  must  we  think  a  cause.  The  former  we  may  learn 
through  a  process  of  induction  and  generalization ;  the  latter  wc 
7nust  always  and  at  once  admit,  constrained  by  the  condition  of 
Relativity.  On  this,  not  sunken  rock,  Dr.  Brown  and  others  have 
been  shipwrecked.] 

This  doctrine  of  Causality  seems  to  me  preferable  to  any  other, 
for  the  following,  among  other,  reasons: 

In    the   first    jtlace,  to   explain    tlii'    jihienonienon    ot    liie    Causal 

.ludginent,  it   ])ostulates   no   new,  no  extraordi- 

The    author's    doc-       naiv,    no   express    principle.      It   does  not  even 

trin,.  of  Causality,  to       i^,x\\\A  upmi  a  ])Ositive  power  ;  for.  while  it  shows 

'\rFrorait8  8iraplic-  ^''•"'^  ^''*'  pli'<""i"«-non  in  .,uestioii  is  only  one  of 
ity.  a  class,  it  assigns,  .as  their  common   cause,  only 

a  negativ(>  impotence.  In  this,  it  stands  advan- 
tageously  contrasted   with   the   one   other   tlu-ory  which  saves   the 

1  Supplied  from  Dhru-.^iiin^,  p.  t)22.  —  Ki>. 


556  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XI* 

phaenomenon,  but  which  saves  it  only  by  the  hypothesis  of  a  special 
principle,  expressly  devised  to  account  for  this  phsenonieiion  alone. 
Nature  never  works  by  more,  and  more  complex  instruments  than 
are  necessary ;  —  ixrjSlv  TrepiTTco? ;  and  to  assume  a  particular  force,  to 
perform  what  can  be  better  explained  by  a  general  imbecility,  is 
contrary  to  every  rule  of  philosophizing. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  if  there  be  postulated  an  express  and 

j^ositive   affirmation  of  intelligence  to  account 

verting  s  ep  i-       ^^^.  ^j^^   ^^^.     ^|^_^^  existence  cannot   absolutely 

cism.  "' 

commence,  we  must  equally  postulate  a  counter 
affirmation  of  intelligence,  positive  and  express,  to  explain  the  coun- 
ter fxct^  that  existence  cannot  infinitely  not  commence.  -The  one 
necessity  of  mind  is  equally  strong  as  the  other;  and  if  the  one  be 
a  positive  doctrine,  an  express  testimony  of  intelligence,  so  also 
must  be  the  othei-.  But  they  are  contradictories ;  and,  as  contra- 
dictories, they  cannot  both  be  true.  On  this  theoi'y,  therefore,  the 
root  of  our  nature  is  a  lie!  By  the  doctrine,  on  the  contrary,  which 
I  propose,  these  contradictory  phienomena  are  carried  up  into  the 
common  principle  of  a  limitation  of  our  fiiculties.  Intelligence  is 
shown  to  be  feeble,  but  not  folse ;  our  nature  is,  thus,  not  a  lie,  nor 
the  Author  of  our  nature  a  deceiver. 

In  the  third  place,  this  sim|)ler  and  easier  doctrine  avoids  a  seri- 
ous inconvenience,  which  attaches  to  the  more 
3^  Avoiding  the  ai-       difficult  and  coiuplcx.     It  is  this  :  — To  suppose 

teniatlves  of  fatalism  .   .  ,  .    ,         .       .    ,         ^  ... 

or  inconsistency.  ^  positivc  and  spccial  pnnciplc  of  causality,  IS 

to  suppose,  that  there  is  expressly  revealed  to 
us,  through  intelligence,  the  fact  that  there  is  no  free  causation,  that 
is,  that  there  is  no  cause  which  is  not  itself  merely  an  effect;  exist- 
ence being  only  a  series  of  determined  antecedents  and  determined 
consequents.  But  this  is  an  assertion  of  Fatalism.  Such,  however, 
most  of  the  patrons  of  that  doctrine  will  not  admit.  The  assertion 
of  absolute  necessity,  they  are  aware,  is  virtually  the  negation  of  a 
moral  universe,  consequently  of  the  Moral  Governor  of  a  moral 
universe ;  in  a  word,  Atheism.  Fatalism  and  Atheism  are,  indeed, 
convertible  terms.  The  onlv  valid  arcfuments  for  the  existence  of  a 
God,  and  for  the  immortality  of  the  soul,  rest  on  the  ground  of 
man's  moral  nature;'  consequently,  if  that  moral  nature  be  annihi' 
lated,  which  in  any  scheme  of  necessity  it  is,  every  conclusion,, 
established  on  such  a  nature,  is  annihilated  also.  Aware  of  this, 
some  of  those  who  make  the  judgment  of  causality  a  special  prin- 
ciple,—  a  positive  dictate  of  intelligence,  —  find  themselves  com- 
pelled, in  order  to  escape  from  the  consequences  of  their  doctrine, 

1  See  above,  lect  ii.  p.  18  et  se<j  —Ed. 


Lect.  XL.  METAPHYSICS.  {,57 

to  deny  that  this  dictate,  though  universal  in  its  deliverance,  should 
be  allowed  to  hold  universally  true ;  and,  accordingly,  they  would 
exempt  from  it  the  facts  of  volition,  "Will,  they  hold  to  be  a  free 
cause,  that  is,  a  cause  Avhich  is  not  an  effect ;  in  other  words,  thev 
attribute  to  will  the  power  of  absolute  origination.  But  here  their 
own  principle  of  causality  is  too  strong  for  them.  They  say,  that  it 
is  unconditionally  given,  as  a  special  and  ])Ositive  law  of  intelligence, 
that  every  origination  is  oidy  an  apparent,  not  a  real",  commence- 
ment. Now  to  exeinpt  certain  ])hienomena  from  this  law,  for  the 
sake  of  our  moral  consciousness,  cannot  validly  be  done.  For,  in 
the  first  place,  this  would  be  to  admit  that  the  mind  is  a  com]»le- 
raent  of  contradictory  revelations.  If  mendacity  be  admitted  of 
some  of  our  mental  dictates,  we  cannot  vindicate  veracity  to  any. 
"Falsus  in  uno,  falsus  in  omnibus."  Absolute  skepticism  is  hence 
the  legitimate  conclusion.  But,  in  the  second  place,  waiving  this 
conclusion,  Avhat  right  have  we,  on  this  doctrine,  to  subordinate  the 
positive  affirmation  of  causality  to  our  consciousness  of  moral  lib- 
erty,— Avhat  right  have  we,  for  the  interest  of  the  latter,  to  derogate 
from  the  universality  of  the  former?  We  have  none.  If  both  are 
equally  positive,  we  have  no  right  to  sacrifice  to  the  other  the  alter- 
native, which  our  wishes  prompt  us  to  abandon. 

But  the  doctrine  which  I  propose  is  not  exposed  to  these  difficul- 
ties.    It  does  not  suftpose  that  the  judgment  of 
Advantages  of  the       Causality  is  founded  on  a  power  of  the  mind 

Author's  doctrine  fur-  .  •,■>,. 

ther  shown.  ^^   rccoguizc  as  ncccssary  m   thought  what  is 

necessary  in  the  universe  of  existence;  it,  on 
the  contrary,  founds  this  judgment  merely  on  the  im])Otencc  of  tlie 
mind  to  conceive  either  of  two  contradictories,  and,  as  one  or  other 
of  two  contradictories  must  be  true,  though  both  cannot,  it  shows 
that  there  is  no  ground  for  inferrinii:  from  the  inabilitv  of  tlie  mind 
to  conceive  an  alternative  as  possible,  that  such  alternative  is  really 
im[)ossible.  At  the  same  time,  if  llie  causal  judgment  be  not  an 
affirmation  of  mind,  but  merely  an  incapacity  of  positively  thinking 
the  contrary,  it  follows  that  such  a  negative  jmlgment  cannot  stand 
in  o)>position  to  the  positive  consciousness,  —  the  affirmative  deliver- 
ance, that  we  are  truly  the  authors, —  the  responsible  originators,  of 
our  actions,  and  not  merely  links  in  the  adamantine  series  of  effects 
and  causes.  It  appears  to  ini-  that  it  is  only  on  this  doctrine  that 
"we  can  jthilosophically  vindicate  the  liberty  of  the  will, —  that  w  ._■ 
can  rationally  assert  to  man  a  "fatis  avolsa  voluntas."  How  the 
will  can  possibly  be  free  must  remain  to  us,  under  the  jiresent  limi- 
tation of  our  faculties,  wholly  incomprehensil)le.  We  cannot  con- 
ceive absolute  commencement ;  we  cannot,  therefore,  conceive  a  freu 


558 


METAPHYSICS. 


Lect.  XL, 


volition.  But  as  little  can  we  conceive  the  alternative  on  which 
liberty  is  denied,  on  which  necessity  is  affirmed.  And  in  favor  of 
our  moral  nature,  the  fact  that  we  are  free,  is  given  us  in  the  con- 
sciousness of  an  uncompromising  law  of  Duty,  in  the  consciousness 
of  our  moral  accountability ;  and  this  fact  of  liberty  cannot  be 
redargued  on  the  ground,  that  it  is  incomprehensible,  for  the  doc- 
trine of  the  Conditioned  proves,  against  the  necessitarian,  that 
something  may,  nay  must,  be  true,  of  which  the  mind  is  wholly 
unable  to  construe  to  itself  the  possibility  ;  whilst  it  shows  that  the 
objection  of  incomprehensibility  applies  no  less  to  the  doctrine  of 
fatalism  than  to  the  doctrine  of  moral  freedom.  If  the  deduction, 
therefore,  of  the  Causal  Judgmpnt,  which  I  have  attempted,  should 
speculatively  prove  correct,  it  Avill,  I  think,  afford  a  securer  and  more 
satisfactory  foundation  for  our  practical  interests,  than  any  other 
which  has  ever  yet  been  promulgated,^ 


1  Here,  in  the  manuscript,  occurs  the  fol- 
lowing sentence,  with  mark  of  deletion  :  — 
"  But  of  this  we  shall  have  to  speak,  when  we 
consider  the  question  of  the  Liberty  or  Ne- 
cessity of  our  Volitions,  under  the  Third 
Great  Class  of  the  Mental  Phaenomena,  —  the 
Conative."  The  author  does  not,  however, 
resume  the  consideration  of  this  question  in 


these  Lectures.  It  will  also  be  observed  that 
Sir.  W.  Hamilton  does  not  pursue  the  appli- 
cation of  the  Law  of  the  Conditioned  to  the 
principle  of  Substance  and  Vhieuomenon,  as 
proposed  at  the  outset  of  the  discussion.  See 
above,  p.  532  On  Causality,  and  on  Liberty 
and  Necessity,  see  further  in  Discussions,  p 
625  et  sf(j.,  and  Appendix  vi.  — Ed. 


LECTUEE    XLI. 

SECOND  GREAT  CLASS  OF  MENTAL  PHJENOMENA  —  THETEKI^ 
INGS;  THEIR  CHARACTER,  AND  RELATION  TO  THE  COGNI- 
TIONS AND  CONATIONS. 

Having  concluded  our  consideration  of  the  First  Great  Class  of 
the  Pluenoniena  revealed   to  us  by  conscious- 
Second  Great  Class       ^^^^^ — ^j^^  phi^nomena  of  knowledge, —  we  are 

of  mental  phasnomena,  ,       ,1  t       /•     1      '^     /-n 

—the  Feelings.  '^ow  to  enter  On  the  oecond  oi  these  Classes, — 

the  class  which  comprehends  the  phaenomena  of 
Pleasur-e  and  Pain,  or,  in  a  single  word,  the  phaenomena  of  Feeling.' 
Before,  however,  proceeding  to  a  discussion  of  this  class  of  mental 
appearances,  considered  in  themselves,  there  are  several  questions 
of  a  preliminary  character,  whicli  it  is  proper  to   dispose  of.      Of 

these,  two  natur:«lly  present  themselves  in  the 
Two     preliminary  threshold  of  our  inquiry.     The  fii-st  is  — 

•luestions       regarding         -p.      *i  1  C  UI  1    -d   • 

the  Feelings.  -L^o  ^'■^^  phjBuomena  01  Pleasure  and  Pam  con- 

stitute a  distinct  order  of  internal  states,  so  that 
we  are  warranted  in  establishing  the  capacity  of  Feeling  as  one  of 
the  fundamental  powei's  of  the  human  mind  ? 

The  second  is, —  In  what  position  do  the  Feelings  stand  by  refer 
ence    to    the    Cogniticms    and    the    Conations ;    and,    in    j)articu]ar, 
whether  ought  the  Feelings  or  the  Conations  to  be  considered  tirst, 
in  the  order  of  science  V 

Of  these  (questions,  the  former  is  by  no  means  one  that  can  be 

either  snj)erseded  or  lightly  dismissed.     Tins  is 

1.  Do  the  pluenoniena       sliowu,  both  by  the  Very  modern  date  at  which 

of  ricasure   ami    I'ain  ^,  1       •         i-  ^1        i->      i-  •     ^  .1 

,.   .  the  analvsis  01  tlie  r  eeuni^s  into  a  separate  class 

constitute  a  distinct  or-  '  '-  ' 

derot  internal  states?        of  phieuoiuena  was  proposed,  an<]  by  the  contro- 
versy to  which  this  analysis  has  given  birth. 
Until  a  very  recent  epoch,  the  feelings  were  not  recognized  by 
any   philosopher  as   the  manifestations  of  any  fundamental    power. 
The  distinction    taken    in    the    Peripatetic    School,  by   which    the 

1  Bee  above,  lect.  xi.  p  12C.  —  Ed. 


560  ^i  !•:  T  A  r  1 1  V  s  I  c  s .  Lkct.  XT.T. 

mental  raodificatious  were  divided  into  Gnostic  or  Cognitive,  and 

Orectic  or  Appetent,  and  the  consequent  reduc- 

The  Feelings  were       tjo,^  of  r^l\  i]^q  faculties  to  the  Facultas  cogno- 

not  recognized  as  the       ^^^^^^^^.   ^^^^^    ^j^^   Facultas  appetendi,  was  the 

maiiifestatioii.s  of  any  ...  . 

fundamental     power,  distinction   wliich    was    long    niost    universally 

until  a  ve  y  recent  pe-  jitrcvaleut,  though   undcr   various,    but   usually 

"'^'^  less  appropriate,  denominations.     For  example, 

Peripatetic  division  ^j^^  modem  distribution  of  the  mental  powers 

of    the    mental    puse-  .  ^ 

ijojneua^  into  those  of  the  Understanding  and  those  of  the 

Will,  or  into  Powers  Speculative  and  Powers 
Active, —  these  are  only  very  inadequate,  and  very  incorrect,  ver- 
sions of  the  Peripatetic  analysis,  which,  as  far  as  it  went,  was  laud- 
able for  its  conception,  and  still  more  laudable  for  its  expression. 
But  this  Aristotelic  division  of  the  internal  states,  into  the  two 
categories  of  Cognitions  and  of  Appetencies,  is  exclusive  of  the 
Feelings,  as  a  class  coordinate  with  the  two  other  genera ;  nor  was 
there,  in  antiquity,  any  other  philosophy  which  accorded  to  the 
feelings  the  rank  denied  to  them  in  the  analysis  of  the  Peripatetic 
school.  An  attemi)t  has,  indeed,  been  made  to  show^  that,  by  Plato, 
the  capacity  of  Feeling  was  regarded  as  one  of  the  three  funda- 
mental powers ;  but  it  is  only  by  a  total  perversion  of  Plato's  lan- 
guage, by  a  total  reversion  of  the  whole  analogy  of  his  psychology, 
that    any  color   can  be  given  to  this  opinion.      Kant,  as  I  have 

formerly  observed,  was  the  philosopher  to  whom 
Recognition  of  the  ^^,g  ^^.^  ^j^^g  tri-logical  classification.  But  it 
ee  ings     >   mo  em       ousfht  to  be  Stated,  that  Kant  only  placed  the 

philosophers.  "    »  '  ^  j    l       ^ 

keystone  in  the  arch,  whi(^li  had  been  raised  by 
])revious  philosophers  among  his  countrymen.  The  phaiuomena  of 
Feeling  had,  for  thirty  years  prior  to  the  reduction  of  Kant,  attracted 

the  attention  of  the  German  psychologists,  and 
Suizer.  Mendelssohn.  j^g^^j  j^y  them  been  Considered  as  a  separate  class 
vaei,  ner       .  <        .       ^  mental  States.     This  had  been  done  by  Sulzer^ 

Eberhard.    Plainer.  •' 

in  1751,  by  Mendelssohn^  in  1763,  by  Kaestner'' 
in  1763  (?),  by  Meiners^  in  1773,  by  Eberhard^   in  1776,  and  by 

1  See  Vntersuchung  uber  den  Urspniiig  tier  Sulzer;  avec  des  Reflexions  siir  V  Ongme  du 
angenelintcn  und  unangenehmen  Emfifindungen  :  Plaisir,  par  M.  Kjestner,  de  I'Acadtimie  Royale 
lirst  published  in  the  Memoirs  of  the  ISerliu  de  Berlin,  1767,  first  published  in  the  Me.noirs 
Academy,  in  17.')!  and  1752.  See  Verm,  p/iilos.  of  the  Academy  in  1749.  See  below,  p.  591. 
Schriften,   v    i.  p.  1.     Leipsic,   1800.     Cf   his  —Ed. 

AUgcmtine  Theorie  der  srhdyien  Kitnste,  1771.—  ■*  See  Abnss  der  Psyrhologie,  1713.  —  Ed 

Ed.     [For  a  summary  and   criticism  of  the  5  .See   Allgemeine     Theorie    des    Denizens  und 

former  work,  see  Reinhold.  tfber  die  hisherigen  Em-pfindens,  read  before  the  Royal  Society  of 

Begrrffe  vom  Vergnngen.     Yermischte  Schriften,  'feerlin  in  1776;  new  edit.  1786     Ct.  Theorie  dsr 

i.  p.  i98     Jena,  1796.]  s^hSnen  Wissenchaf ten,  2d  ecVit.     Halle,  1786. ^ 

2  Brie/e  ilber  die  Empfindungen,  1755.  — Ed.  Ed. 

3  See    Nouvelle    Theurie   des  Plaisirs,   par   M. 


Lect.  XLI.  METAPHYSICS.  561 

Plainer^  in  1780  (?).     It  remained,  however,  for  Kant  to  establish, 

by  his  authority,  the  decisive  trichotomy  of  the 
Kant,— the  first  to       mental  powcrs.     In  his   Critique  of  Judgment 

establish  the    trichot-  i  tt  u-i      7        tt  ^-l    -i  7       ^^\  j    i-i  •         •       i- 

omy  of  the  meutai       {Kritik  cier   Urtheilskraft),  and;  likewise,  m  his 
powers.  Anthrojyology,  he    treats    of  the   capacities   of 

Feeling,  apart  from,  and  along  with,  the  facul- 
ties of  Cognition  and  Conation.-  At  the  same  time,  he  called 
attention  to  their  great  importance  in  the  philosophy  of  mind, 
and  more  precisely  and  more  explicitly  than  any  of  his  prede- 
cessors did  he  refer  them  to  a  particular  power, —  a  power  which 
constituted  one  o  the  three  fundamental  jjhajnornena  of  mind. 
This   important    innovation  necessarily  gave  rise  to  controversy. 

It  is  true  that  the  Kantian   reduction  was  ad- 
Kant's     doctrine       j^itted,  not  only  by  the  great  majority  of  tliose 

controverted  bv  some  ii-  • 

i>hi)osopher8ofuote.         ^^'"*^   lollowed   the   impulsion    which    Kant   had 

given  to  philosophy,  but,  likewise,  by  tlie  great 
majority  of  the  psychologists  of  Germany,  who  i-anged  themselves 
in  hostile'  opposition  to  the  principles  of  tlie  Critical  School.  A 
reaction  was,  however,  inevitable ;  and  while,  on  tlie  one  hand, 
the  greater  number  were  disposed  to  recognize  the  Feelings  in 
their  new  rank,  as  one  of  the  three  grand  classes  of  the  mental 
phaenomena ;  a  smaller  number,  —  but  among  them  some  philos- 
ophers of  no  mean  account,  —  endeavored,  however  violent  the 
procedure,  to  reannex  them,  as  secondary  manifestations,  to  one 
or  other  of  the  two  coordinate  classes, —  the  Cognitions  and  the 
Conations. 

Before  proceeding  to  consider  the  objections  to  the  classification 
in  question,  it  is  proper  to  premise  a  word  in  ref- 

Meaning  of  the  term  ,  .  ^    ,  ,  •    ■       , 

j-ggjjj  erence  to  the  meaning  or  the  term  by  which  the 

pha'iiomena  of  Pleasure  and  Pain  are  designated, 
—  the  term  Fcdimj ;  for  this  is  an  ambiguous  expression,  and  on  the 
accident  of  its  ambiguity  have  been  founded  some  of  the  reasons 
against  the  establishment  of  the  class  of  phaenomena,  which  it  is  em- 
ployed to  denote. 

It  is  easy  to  convey  a  clear  and  distinct  knowledge  of  what  is  meant 
by  a  word,  when  that  word  denotes  some  object  which  has  an  exist- 
ence external  to  the  mind.  I  have  only  to  point  out  the  object, 
and  to  say,  that  such  or  such  a  thing  is  signified  by  sucli  or  such  a 

1  The  threefold  division  of  the  mental  plia>-  b  i.  SS  27—43,  edit.  1793    Kant's  Kr.  rf.  UnhriU- 

nomcna  forms  (he  basis  of  the  psycholofjical  Icrafl  wa»  lirst   published  in  1790;  t\ie  Ant/iro- 

part  of  rialner's  Nfue  Anthmpologie,  179<J;  see  ;'o/os-i>,  thoufjh    written   befort?   it,  was   only 

book  ii     The  first  edition  (Anthropolo^f)  ap-  first  publishod  in  1799  — Ed. 

peared  in  1772-4.     ("f.  Phil.  Aphorismen.  vol   i.  '^  See  above,  lect.  xi.  p   129  — Kd 

71 


562  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLL 

name ;  for  example,  this  is  called  a  house^  that  a  rainbow^  this  a 
horse^  that  an  oa,  and  so  forth.      In  these  cases,  the  exhibition  of 

the  reality  is  tantamount  to  a  definition ;  or,  as 

Easy  to  convey  a       an   old   logician    expresses   it,   "  Cognitio  oninis 

clear  knowledge  of  the       intuitiva  est  definitiva."  ^     The  same,  however, 

meaning      of     words  ,  iii-  i  i-  i-ii- 

which  denote  ph«-  ^^^'^^  "^^  ^""^"^^  "^  f^S*'^^"^^  ^o  an  object  which  lies 
nomena  external  to  within  the  mind  itself  Wliat  was  easy  in  the 
**»e  ™>n«i-  one  case  becomes  difficult  in  the  other.      For 

although  he  to  whom  I  would  explain  the  mean- 
ing of  a  term,  by  pointing  out  the  object  which  it  is  intended  to 

express,  has,  at  least  may  hr.ve,  that  very  object 
Not  so  with  respect       present  in  his  mind,  still  I  c.   .not  lay  my  finger 

to  words  denoting  ob-  .  -r  .  .  •  i  i 

.    .    .,  ^  ,■       „..         on  It,  —  1  cannot  arive  it  to  e   imine  by  the  e\^» 

jects    that    lie  withm  '  o  j  j    i- 

the  mind.  — to  smell,  to  tastc,  to  hanc   -'.     Thus  it  is  that 

misunderstandings  frequently  occur  in  refei'ence 
to  this  class  of  objects,  inasmuch  as  one  attaches  a  diffevcUv  meaning 
to  the  word  from  that  in  which  another  uses  it ;  and  we  ought  not  to 
be  surprised  that,  in  the  nomenclature  of  oui  in^ntai  phieftoraena,  it 
has  come  to  pass,  that,  in  all  languages,  one  xfenn  nas  become  the  sign 
of  a  plurality  of  notions,  while  at  the  same  time  a  single  notion  is 
designated  by  a  plurality  of  terms.  This  vacillation  in  the  applica- 
tion and  employment  of  language,  as  it  originates  in  tlie  impossi- 
bility, anterior  to  its  institution,  of  approximating  different  minds  to 
a  common  cognition  of  the  same  internal  object ;  so  this  ambiguity, 
when  once  established,  reacts  powerfuhy  in  perpetuating  tlie  same 
difficulty ;  insomuch  that  a  principal,  ii'  not  the  very  greatest,  im- 
pediment in  the  progress  of  the  philosoi)her  of  mind,  is  the  vague- 
ness and  uncertainty  of  the  instrument  of  thouccht  itself  A  remark- 
able  example  of  tliis,  and  one  extending  to  all  languages,  is  seen  in 

the  words  most  nearly  correspondent  to  the  very 
ee  ing,      e  u  i ,       indeterminate  expression    feeling.      In  English, 

Alfff(^ff(j,  —  ambigu-  ,  .      ,.,         ,,        i  n  '  i     7       •      i  i-        ■ 

^  ^  this,  like  all  others  or  a  psychological  application, 

was  primarily  of  a  purely  physical  relation,  being 
originally  employed  to  denote  the  sensations  we  experience  through 
the  sense  of  Touch,  and  in  this  meaning  it  still  continues  to  be  em- 
ployed. From  this,  its  original  relation  to  matter  and  the  corporeal 
sensibility,  it  came,  by  a  very  natural  analogy,  to  express  our  con- 
scious states  of  mind  in  general,  but  paiticularly  in  relation  to  the 
qualities   of   pleasure    and    pain,  by   which   they  are   characterized. 

Such  is  the  fortune  of  the  term  in  English  ;  and  precisely  similar  is 

• 

1  Cf  Melanchthon,  Erotfmo/a  Dialectica,  Df      Omnis  intuitiva  notitia  est  detinitio."  —  En 
Dffinitione,  who  quotes  it  as  an  old  saying:      [C'f.  Keckermann,  Opera,  t-  i.  p.  198  ) 
^  Vetus  enim  dictum  est,  et  dignum  memoria : 


Lect.  XLl.  METAPHYSICS.  568 

that  of  the  cognate  term  Gefulil  in  German.  The  same,  at  least  a 
similar,  liistory  might  be  given  of  the  Greek  term  accr&r]cn<;,  and  of 
the  Latin  sensus,  sensatio,  with  their  immediate  and  mediate  deriva- 
tives in  the  different  Romanic  dialects  of  modern  Europe,  —  the 
Italian,  Spanish,  French,  and  English  dialects.  In  applying  the  term 
ftcling  to  the  mental  states,  strictly  in  so  far  as  these  manifest  the 
pliajnomena  of  pleasure  and  pain,  it  is,  therefore,  hardly  necessary  to 
observe,  that  the  word  is  used,  not  in  all  the  meanings  in  which 
ft  can  be  employed,  but  in  a  certain  definite  relation,  were  it  not  that 
ft  very  unfair  advantage  has  been  taken  of  this  ambiguity  of  the 
expression.  Feelbig,  in  one  meaning,  is  manifestly  a  cognition  ;  but 
this  affords  no  ground  for  the  ai-gument,  that  feeling^  in  every  signi- 
fication, is  also  a  cognition.  Tliis  reasoning  has  however,  been  pro- 
posed, and  that  by  a  philosopher  from  whom  so  paltry  a  sophism  was 
assuredly  not  to  be  expected. 

It  being,  therefore,  understood  that  the  word  is  ambiguous,  and 

that  it  is  only  used  because  no  preferal)le  can  be 

Can  we  discriminate       fouud,  the  question  must  be  determined  by  the 

in  eon.o;ousnes9  cer-  f  ^^  disproof  of  the  affirmation,  —  that'l  am 

tain  states  which  can-  ,.        .      . 

not  be  reduced  to  those  ^^^^  ^o  discriminate  in  consciousness  certain 
ofCognitiouor  Coua-  States,  certain  qualities  of  mind,  which  cannot 
^'^"  •  be  reduced  to  those  either  of  Cognition  or  Cona- 

tion  ;  and  that  I  can  enable  others,  in  like  man- 
ner, to  place  themselves  in  a  similar  position,  and  observe  for  them- 
selves these  states  or  qualities,  which  I  call  Fedlngs.     Let  us  take  .an 
example.     In  reading  the  story  of  Leonidas  and  his  three  hundred 
•Spartans  at  Thermopyla?,  what  do  we  experience? 
This  qncRf ion  decided       i^  there  nothing  in  the  state  of  mind,  which  the 

in   the  ailiiinative  by  .  .  .-,  .^  ■,  ■, 

,  .  .        narrative  occasions,  other  than  such  as  can   be 

an  appeal    to  experi-  ' 

ciice.  referred  either  to  the  cognition  or  to  will  and 

desire  ?  Our  faculties  of  knowledixe  are  called 
certainly  into  exercise  ;  for  this  is,  indeed,  a  condition  of  every  other 
state.  But  is  the  exultation  which  we  feel  at  this  spectacle  of  lumian 
virtue,  the  joy  which  we  experience  at  the  temporary  success,  and 
the  sorrow  at  tlie  liiial  destruction  of  this  glorious  band,  —  are  these 
affections  to  be  reduced  to  states  either  of  cognition  or  of  conation  in 
either  form  ?  Are  they  not  feelings,  —  feelings  partly  of  pleasure, 
partly  of  ])ain  ? 

Take  another,  and  a  very  familiar,  instance.  You  are  all  probably 
acquainteii  with  the  old  ballad  of  Ghex'y  Chase,  and  you  probably 
recollect  the  fine  verse  of  the  oriiginal  edition,  so  lamentably  spoiled 
in  the  more  modern  versions : 


564  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLI. 

"  For  Widdrini^ton  my  soul  is  sad, 
That  ever  he  slain  .sliould  be, 
For  when  his  legs  were  stricken  off, 
He  kneeled  and  fought  on  his  knee."  i 

Now,  I  ask  you,  again,  is  it  possible,  by  any  process  of  legitimate 
analysis,  to  carry  up  the  mingled  feelings,  some  pleasurable,  some 
painful,  Avhich  are  called  up  by  this  simple  picture,  into  anything 
bearing  the  character  of  a  knowledge,  or  a  vohtion,  or  a  desire  ? 
If  we  cannot  do  this,  and  if  we  cannot  deny  the  reality  of  such  feel- 
ings, we  are  compelled  to  recognize  them  as  belonging  to  an  order  of 
phaenomena,  which,  as  they  cannot  be  resolved  into  either  of  the  other 
classes,  must  be  allowed  to  constitute  a  third  class  by  themselves. 

But  it  is  idle  to  multiply  examples,  and  I  shall  now  proceed  to  con- 
sider the  grounds  on  which  some  philosophers, 

Grounds  on  which  and  among  these,  M'hat  is  remarkable,  a  dis- 
objection    has    been       tinguislied    champion    of   the   Kantian    svstem, 

taken  to  the  Kantian  tt  ^•       ■,  •  " 

ciasHification    of  the       ^'''^'■'^  endeavored  to  discredit  the  validity  of  the 

mental  phaenomena.  classification. 

Passing  over  the  arguments  which  have  been 
urged  against  the  pov,'er  of  Feeling  as  a  fundamental  capacity  of 
mind,  in  so  far  as  these  proceed  merely  on  the  ambiguities  of 
language,  I  shall  consider  only  the  principal  objections  from  the 
nature  of  the  phaenomena  themselves,  which  have  been  urged  by  the 
three  principal  opponents  of  the  classification  in  question,  —  Cams, 
Weiss,  and  Krug.  The  last  of  these  is  the  philosopher  by  whom 
these  objections  have  been  urged  most  explicitly,  and  with  greatest 
force.  I  shall,  therefore,  chiefly  confine  myself  to  a  consideration  of 
the  difficulties  which  he  proposes  for  solution. 

I  may  premise  that  this  philosopher  (Krug),  admitting  only  two 
fundamental  classes  of  psychological  pb.ienomena,  —  the  Cognitions 
and  the  Conations,  —  goes  so  far  as  not  only  to  maintain,  that  what 
have  obtained,  from  other  psychologists,  the  name  of  JFhelings, 
constitute  no  distinct  and  separate  class  of  mental  functions;  but 

that  the  very  supposition  is  absurd  and  even  im- 
possible.     "  That  such  a  power  of  feeling,"  he 
argues,  ^  "  is  not  even  conceivable,  if  by  such  is  understood  a  power 

1  "  For  Wetharryngton  my  harte  waa  wo,  though  not  exactly  in  language,  in  Krug's 

That  ever  he  slay ne  shulde  be;  Philosopkisches  Lexikon,  &rt.  Seelenlcrdfle.    The 

For  when  both  his  leggis  wear  hewj^ne  author,  in  the  same  work,  art.  Gefukl,  refers 

in  to,  4o  his  Gruncllage  zu  einer  neiuii  Theorie  der  Ge- 

He  knyled  and  fought  on  hys  kne."  fiMe,  und  des  xogenannten   Gefn/tisvermdgens, 

—  Original   VeTsi(m,   in   Percy's   Reliques.—  Kdnigsberg,  1823,  for  a  fuller  di.scussion  of 

Ed.  the  question.    See  also  above,  lect.  xi.  p.  130. 

2  This    objection    is    given    in    substance,  —  £d. 


Lect.  XLT. 


METAPHYSICS.  565 


essentially  different  from  the  powers  of  Cognition  and  Conation," 
(thus  I  translate  Vorstellungund  Bestrebungscermogen),  "  is  mani- 
fest from  the  following  consideration The  powers  of 

c«>gnition  and  the  powers  of  conation  are,  in  propriety,  to  be  regarded 
as  two  different  fundamental  ])owers,  only  because  the  operation  of 
our  mind  exhibits  a  twofold  direction  of  its  whole  activity, —  one 
inwards,  another  outwards ;  in  consequence  of  which  we  are  con- 
strained to  distinguish,  on  the  one  hand,  an  Immanent,  ideal  or 
theoretical,  and,  on  the  other  a  Transeunt,  real  or  pi-actical,  activity. 
Xow,  should  it  become  necessary  to  interpolate  between  tliese  two 
powers,  a  third  ;  consequently,  to  convert  the  original  duplicity  of 
our  activity  into  a  triplicity  ;  in  this  case,  it  would  be  requisite  to 
attribute  to  the  third  power  a  third  species  of  activity,  the  product 
of  which  would  be,  in  fact,  the  Feelings.  Now  this  activity  of  feel- 
ing must  necessarily  have  either  a  direction  inwards,  or  a  direction 
outwards,  or  both  directions  at  once,  or  hnally  neither  of  the  two, 
that  is,  no  direction. at  all ;  for  apart  from  the  directions  inwards  and 
outwards,  there  is  no  direction  conceivable.  But,  in  the  first  case, 
the  activity  of  feeling  would  not  be  different  from  the  cognitive  activ- 
ity, at  least  not  essentially ;  in  the  second  case,  there  is  nothing  but 
a  certain  appetency  manifested  under  the  form  of  a  feeling ;  in  the 
third,  the  activity  of  feeling  would  be  only  a  combination  of  theoret- 
ical and  ])ractical  activity  ;  consequently,  there  remains  only  the  sup- 
position that  it  has  no  direction.  We  confess,  however,  that  an 
hypothetical  activity  of  such  a  kind  we  cannot  imagine  to  ourselves 
as  a  real  activity.  An  activity  without  any  determinate  direction, 
would  be  in  tact  directed  upon  nothing,  and  a  power  conceived  as  the 
source  of  an  activity,  directed  upon  nothing,  appears  nothing  better 
than  a  powerless  power, — a  wholly  inoperative  force,  in  a  word,  a 
nothiu'i'."  —  So  far  our  objectionist. 

In  answer  to  this  reasoning,  I  would  observe,  that  its  cogency  dc 
pends  on  tlii-;,  —  iliat  the  suppositions  whidi  it 

Criticized.    1.  Tiie       makes,  and  afterwards  excludes,  are  exhatistive 
suppositions  on  which       .^^^^  complete.     But  this  is  not  the  case.     ''  For, 

the      rcaiioning      pro-  .  ,  ,.  .  .  ,  i 

ceeds,  are  not  exhaust-  '"   P^'^ce  of   two  energies,  an    immanent  au.l  a 

ive.  transeunt,  wo  may  competently  suppose  thre«', — 

vvc    may  nuppose  .j^   ineuut,  uii   iiiimanciit,  and   a  transeunt.      1°, 

three  kinds  of  energy,  r^^^^  Ineuiit  cncrgv  might  be  considered  as  an  act 

tneunt,       Immanent,  •  • 

and  Trauscuut.  of  mind,  directed  upon  objects  in  order  to  know 

them,  —  to  bring  them  within  the  sphere  of  con- 
sciousness, —  mentally  to  approi>riate  them ;  2°,  The  Immanent  ener- 
gy might  be  considered  as  a  kind  of  internal  fluctuation  about  the 
objects,  which  had  been  brought  to  representation  and  thought,  —  a 


566  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLI. 

pleasurable  or  a  painful  aifection  caused  by  them,  in  a  word,  a  feel- 
ing ;  and  3°,  The  Transeunt  energy  might  be  considered  as  an  act 
tending  towards  the  object  in  order  to  reach  it,  or  to  escape  from  it. 
This  hypothesis  is  quite  as  allowable  as  that  in  opi)osition  to  which 
it  is  devised,  and  were  it  not  merely  in  relation  to  an  hypothesis, 
which  rests  on  no  valid  foundation,  it  would  be  better  to  consider  the 
feelings  not  as  immanent  activities,  but  as  immanent  passivities. 
"  But,  in  point  of  fact,  we  are  not  warranted,  by  any  analogy  of  our 
spiritual  nature,  to  ascribe  to  the  mental  powers 
2.  But  we  are  not       a  direction  either  outwards  or  inwards  ;  on  the 
warranted  to  ascribe       contrary,  they  are  rather  the  principles  of  our 

to  the  mental  powers         .  "^  /»       i  •   i  i      • 

a  direction  either  out-  internal  States,  of  which  we  can  only  miproperly 
ward.-' or  inwards.  predicate  a  direction,  and  this  only  by  relation 

to  the  objects  of  the  states  themselves.  For 
directions  are  relations  and  situations  of  external  things;  but  of  such 
there  are  none  to  be  met  with  in  the  internal  world,  except  by  anal- 
ogy to  outer  objects.  In  our  Senses,  which  have  reference  to  the  ex- 
ternal world,  there  is  an  outward  direction  when  we  perceive,  or 
when  we  act  on  external  things ;  whereas,  we  may  be  said  to  turn 
inwards,  when  we  occupy  ourselves  with  what  is  contained  within 
the  mind  itself,  be  this  in  order  to  compass  a  knowledge  of  our 
proper  nature,  or  to  elevate  ourselves  to  other  objects  still  more 
worthy  of  a  moral  intelligence.  Rigorously  considered,  the  feelings 
are  in  this  meaning  so  many  directions,  —  so  many  turnings  towards 
those  objects  which  determine  the  feelings,  and  whicth  please  or  dis- 
please us.  Take,  for  example,  the  respect,  the  reverence,  we  feel  in 
the  contemplation  of  the  higher  virtues  of  human  nature ;  this  feel- 
ing is  an  immanent  conversion  on  its  object. 

"  The  argument  of  the  objectors  is  founded  on  the  hypothesis,  that 

as  in  the  external  world,  all  is  action  and  reac- 
.3.    Tiie    argument       i\on  —  all  is  working  and  counterworking,  —  all 

founded    on   the     hv-         .         '  .  i  ,   •  • 

])othesi8,  that  what  is  i*»  attraction  and  repulsion  ;  so  in  the  internal 
true  of  inanimate,  is  world,  there  is  Only  One  operation  of  objects  on 
true  of  animated  na-       ^j^^  mind,  and  One  Operation  of  the  mind  on  ob- 

ture;  and  would  leave         •      ,         ^i        <?  ,  •   ,    •  •   •  ,i 

...  .,         lects  :  the  lormer  must  consist  in  cognition,  the 

no  will  or  desire  in  the        ''  .  .  . 

universe.  latter  in  conation.     But  when  this  hypothesis  is 

subjected  to  a  scrutiny,  it  is  at  once  apparent  how 
treacherous  is  the  reasoning  which  infers  of  animated,  what  is  true 
of  inanimate,  nature ;  for,  to  say  nothing  of  aught  else  that  militates 
against  it,  this  analogy  would  in  truth  leave  no  will  or  desire  in  the 
universe  at  all ;  for  action  and  rea(U;ion  are  already  compensated  in 
cognition,  or  to  speak  more  correctly,  in  sensitive  Perception  itself."^ 

1  Biunde,  Yersuchd.  empiristhen  Psychologie ,  ii.  ^  207,  p.  54 — 56.  —  E». 


Lect.  xli.  metaphysics.  567 

Such  is  a  specimen  of  the  only  argument  of  any  moment,  against 
the  establishment  of  the  Feelings  as  an  ultimate  class  of  mental 
phainomena. 

I  pass  on  to  the  second  question;  —  What  is  the  position  of  the 

Feelings  by  reference  to  the  two  other  classes ; 

II  What  is  the  posj-       — and,  in   particular,  should   the  consideration 

tion  of  the  Feelings  by       ^f  ^j^^  Feelings  precede,  or  follow,  that  of  the 

reference  to  the    two         ^  .  o 

other  classes  of  men-         Conations  . 

tei  phaenomena?  The  answer  to  the  second  part  of  this  ques- 

tion, will  be  given  in  the  determination  of  the 
first  part ;  for  Psychology  proposes  to  exhibit  the  mental  phenom- 
ena in  their  natural  consecution,  that  is,  as  they  condition  and  sup- 
pose each  other.  A  system  which  did  not  accomplish  this,  could 
make  no  pretension  to  be  a  veritable  exposition  of  our  internal  life. 
"To  resolve  this  problem,  let  us  take  an  example,  A  person  is 
fond  of  cards.     In  a  company  where  he  beholds 

Resolved  by   an  ex-         „    „   _      •  ii  •  i      •        ^       •    • 

a  game  in  prosjress,  there  arises  a  desire  to  loin 

ample.  ,     °  .         .  .  . 

in  it.  Xow  the  desire  is  here  manifestly  kin- 
dled by  the  pleasure,  which  the  person  had,  and  has,  in  the  play. 
The  feeling  thus  connects  the  cognition  of  the  ]>lay  with  the  desire 
to  join  in  it;  it  forms  the  bridge,  and  contains  the  motive,  by  which 
we  are  roused  from  mere  knowledge  to  ajjpetency,  —  to  conation,  by 
reference  to  which  we  move  ourselves  so  as  to  attain  the  end  iu 
view. 

"  Thus  we  find,  in  actual  life,  the  Feelings  intermediate  between 

the   Cognitions  and  the   Conations.      And  this 
The  Feelings  inter-       relative  jjosition  of  these  several  powers  is  nec- 

tnediate    between  the  .  ,  ,  .  ... 

.,„„„;,.„„„    ,  ,,^  essary;    without    the    previous    cognition,  tliere 

<-  ognjtions  ajid  (  ona-  •'  '  '  o  ' 

tions.  could  be  neither  feeling  nor  conation  ;  and  with- 

out tlie  ])revious  leeling  there  could  be  no  cona- 
tion. Without  some  kind  or  another  of  complacency  with  an 
object,  there  could  be  no  tendency,  no  pretension  of  the  mind  to 
attain  this  object  as  an  end;  and  we  could,  therefore,  determine 
ourselves  to  no  overt  action.  The  mere  cognition  leaves  us  cold 
and  unexcited ;  the  awakened  feeling  infuses  warmth  and  liie  into 
us  and  our  action;  it  sujjplies  action  witli  an  interest,  and,  without 
an  interest,  there  is  for  us  no  voluntary  action  possible.  Without 
the  intervention  of  feeling,  the  cognition  stands  tlivorced  from  the 
conation,  and,  apart  from  feeling,  all  conscious  endeavor  after  any- 
thing would  be  altogether  incomprehensible. 

"That  the  manifestations  of  the  Conative  Powers  are  determined 
by  the  Feelings,  is  also  aj)parent  from  the  following  reflection.  The 
volition  or  «lesire  tends  towaiils  a  something,  and  this  something 


That   the    Conative 


568  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLT- 

is  only  given  us  in  and  through  some  faculty  or  other  of  cogni- 
tion. Now,  were  the  mere  cognition  of  a  thing 
sufficient  of  itself  to  rouse  our  conation,  in  that 

Powers  are  determined  ■,^     ■•  ,  .1 

by  the  Feelings  fur-       case,  all  that  was  known  in  the  same  manner  and 

ther  shown.  in  the  same  degree,  would  become  an  equal  ob- 

Mere  cognition  not      jg^^  ^f  (jgsire  or  will.     But  we  covet  one  thing; 

sufficient  to  rouse  Con-  ,  ,  /-a        .1  •^-  ti 

we  eschew  another.     On  the  supposition,  like- 
wise, that  our  conation  was  only  regulated  by 
our  cognition,  it  behooved  that  every  other  individual  besides  should 

be  desirous  of  the  object  which  I  desire,  and  be 

1.  Because  all  ob-       ^esirous  of  it  also  SO  long  as  the  cognition  of  the 

jects    known    in    the  ^ 

same  manner  and  de-  object  remained  the  same.     But  one  person  pur- 

gree,  are  not  equal  ob-  sues  what  another  pcrson  flies  ;  the  same  person 

jects  of  desire  or  will.  ^^^^    yeams    after   something   which    anon   he 

2.  Because  different  loathes.     And    why  ?     It  is  manifest  that  here 

individuals  are  desir-  ,  i-i-i  -ii  ^-^  i-i 

PAW      4.  K-   .         there  lies  hid  some  very  variable  quantity,  which, 

ous  of  different  objects.  •'  ... 

when  united  with  the  cognition,  is  capable  of 
rousing  the  powers  of  conation  into  activity.  But  such  a  quantity 
is  given,  and  only  given,  in  the  feelings,  that  is,  in  our  consciousness 
of  the  agreeable  and  disagreeable.  If  we  take  this  element, —  this 
influence, —  this  quantity.  —  into  account,  the  whole  anomalies  are 
solved.  We  are  able  at  once  to  understand  why  all  that  is  thought 
or  cognized  with  equal  intensity,  does  not,  with  equal  intensity, 
afiect  the  desires  or  the  will ;  why  dififerent  individuals,  with  the 
same  knowledge  of  the  same  objects,  are  not  similarly  attracted  or 
repelled;  and  why  the  same  individual  does  not  always  pursue  or 
fly  the  same  object.  This  is  all  explained  by  the  fact,  that  a  thing 
may  please  one  person  and  displease  another;  and  may  now  be 
pleasurable,  now  painful,  and  now  indifferent,  to  the  same  person. 
"  J'rom  these  interests  for  different  objects,  and  from  these  oppo- 
site interests  which  the  same  object  determines. 
Importance  of  a  cor-       j^  ^m.  different  powcvs,  are  we  alone  enabled  ta 

rect  understanding  of  t  ^  •■^  ^      ^^  ^  i *]:„ 

,  \  render  comprehensible  the  change  and  conflic 

the  nature   and    influ-  '  _  ^  ^ 

eace  of  the  Feelings.  tion  of  our  dcsires,  the  vacillations  of  our  voli- 
tions, the  warfare  of  the  sensual  principle  with 
the  rational,  —  of  the  flesh  with  the  spirit;  so  that,  if  the  nature 
and  influence  of  the  feelings  be  misunderstood,  the  problems*  most 
important  for  man  are  reduced  to  insoluble  riddles. 

"According  to  this  doctrine,  the  Feelings,  placed  in  the  midst 
between  the  powers  of  Cognition  and  the  powers  of  Conation,  per- 
form  the  functions  of  connecting  principles  to  these  two  extremes ; 
and  thus  the  objection  that  has  been  urged  against  the  feelings  as  a 
<5lass  coordinate  with  the  cognitions  and   the   conations, — on   the 


Lect.  XLI.  METAPHYSICS.  569 

ground  that  they  afford  no  principle  of  mediation,  is  of  all  objeo 
tions  the  most  futile  and  erroneous.     Our  conclusion,  therefore,  is, 

that  as,  in  our  actual  existence,  the  feelings  find 
Place  of  the  theory       their  place  after  the  cognitions,  and  before  the 

of  the  Feelings  in  the  .  ...  /-         •      i        i 

,    .  ,  conations,  —  so,   in    the    science    oi    mind,   the 

ecieuce  of  mmd.  '  '  ' 

theory  of  the  Feelincrs  oucrht  to  follow  that  of 
our  faculties  of  Knowledge,  and  to  precede  that  of  our  faculties  of 
Will  and  Desire."^  Notwithstanding  this,  various  even  of  those 
psychologists  who  have  adoj)ted  the  Kantian  trichotomy,  have 
departed  fi-om  the  order  which  Kant  had  correctly  indicated,  and 
have  averted  it  in  every  possible  manner,  —  some  treating  of  the 
feelings  in  the  last  place,  while  others  have  considered  them  in  the 
first. 

The  last  preliminary  question  which  presents  itself  is — Into  what 

subdivisions  are  the  Feelings  themselves  to  be 
III.  Into  what  .ub-       distributed  ?      lu    Considering    this    question,    I 

divisions  are  the  Feel-  t^  •   •  i  •    i    i 

ings  to  be  distributed?       ^'^''^^^  "'"^^  state  some  of  the  divisions  which  nave 

been  j)roposed  by  those  i)hilosophers  who  have 
recognized  the  capacity  of  feeling  as  an  ultimate,  a  fundamental, 
phaenomenon  of  mind.  This  statement  will  be  necessarily  limited 
to  the  distributions  adojjted  by  the  psychologists  of  Germany;  for, 
strange  to  say,  the  Kantian  reduction,  though  prevalent  in  the 
Empire,  has  remained  either  unknown  to,  or  disregarded  by,  those 
who  have  speculated  on  the  mind  in  France,  Italy,  and  Great  Brit- 
ain. 

To  commence  with  Kant  himself.     In  the  Critique  of  Judgmerd^ 
he  enumerates  three  si)ecificall\'  different  kinds 

Kant.  ,  1  •  J-       1  •    1 

of  complacency,  the  objects  ol  whicli  are  sever- 
ally the  Agreeable  {das  Angenehm),  the  Beautiful,  and  the  Good. 
In  his  treatise  of  Anthropology,'^  subsequently  published,  he  divides- 
the  feelings  of  ])leasure  and  pain  into  two  great  classes; — 1°,  The 
Sensuous;  2°,  The  Intellectual.  The  former  of  these  classes  is 
again  subdivided  into  two  subordinate  kinds,  inasmuch  as  the  feel- 
ing arises  either  through  the  Senses  (Sensual  Pleasures),  or  througli 
the  Imagination  (Pleasures  of  Taste).  The  latter  of  these  classis 
is  also  subdivided  into  stibordinate  kinds;  for  our  Intellectual  Feel- 
ings are  connected  either  with  the  notions  of  the  Understanding,  or 
with  the  ideas  of  Reason.  I  may  notice  that  in  his  published  man- 
ual of  Anthropology,  the  Intellectual  Feelings  of  the  fii-st  subdivis- 
ion,—  the  feelings  of  the  Understanding,  are  not  treated  of  in 
detail. 

1  Biunde,  Vrrsuch  d  empirischtn  Piycholnpir,  2(5.      Wfrk'.  iv.  p  M  —  Ed. 

ii.  r-08.  p.  «0— (^4  —  Kd.  3  B.  ii      llVrX^,  vii   p  U:>  —  Ed. 


570 


METAPHYSICS. 


Lect.  XLr. 


Schulze 


Hillebraud. 


Gottlob  Schulze,  thougli  a  decided  antagonist  of  the  Kantian 
philosophy  in  general,  adopts  the  threefold  clas- 
sification into  the  Cognitions,  the  Feelings,  and 
the  Conations ;  but  he  has  preferred  a  division  of  the  Feelings  dif- 
ferent from  that  of  the  philosopher  of  Konigsberg.  These  he  dis- 
tributes into  two  classes, —  the  Corporeal  and  the  S])iritual;  to 
which  he  annexes  a  third  class  made  up  of  these  in  combination,  — 
the  Mixed  Feehngs. 

Ilillebrand^  divides  the  Feelings,  in   a   thi-eefold    manner,  into 
those  of  States,  those  of  Cognitions,  and  those 
of  Appetency  (will  and  desire) ;  and  again  into 
Real,  Sympathetic,  and  Ideal. 

Herbart^  distributes  them  into  three  classes ;  —  1°,  Feelings  which 
are  determined  by  the  character  of  the  thing 
felt ;  2°,  Feelings  which  depend  on  the  disposi- 
^  3°,  Feelings  which  are  intermediate  and 

mixed. 

(of  Leipzig,  —  the  late  Carus)  thus  distributes  them. 
"Pure  feeling,"  he  says,  "has  relation  either  to 
Reason,  and  in  this  case  we  obtain  the  Intellect- 
ual Feelings ;  or  it  has  reMion  to  Desire  and  Will,  and  in  this  case 
we  iiave  the  moral  feelings."  Between  these  two  classes,  the  Intel- 
lectual and  the  Moral  Feelings,  there  are  placed  the  Esthetic  Feel- 
ings, or  feelings  of  Taste,  to  which  he  also  adds  a  fourth  class,  that 
of  the  Religious  Feelings. 

Such  are  a  few  of  the  more  illustrious  divisions  of  the  Feelings 
into  their  primary  classes.  It  is  needless  to  enter  at  present  into 
any  discussion  of  the  merits  and  demerits  of  these  distributions.  I 
shall  hereafter  endeavor  to  show  you,  that  they  may  be  divided,  in 
the  first  place,  into  two  great  classes, —  the  Higher  and  the  Lower, 
—  the  Mental  and  the  Corporeal,  in  a  word,  into  Sentiments  and 
Sensutions. 


Herbart. 


tion  of  the  feeling  mind  ; 


Carus 


Cai'us. 


1  Anthropnlngie,  5  144-146,  p.  2Q5etseq.,  3d 
edit.  16"26  —Ed 

'■i  Anthropologie,  ii.  283.  —  Ed. 

"  Lehrbuch  zur  Psyehologie,  §  98  Werke.  vol. 
T.  p.  72  On  the  divisions  of  the  Feelings 
mentioned  in  the  text,  see  Biunde,  Yersuch 


einer  systematischen  Behandlung  der  empirischen 
Psychologic,  ii.  §  210,  p.  74,  edit.  1831.  Cf. 
Scheldler,  Psychologic,  §  64,  p.  443,  edit.  1833. 
—  Ed. 

4  Psychologic,    Werke,   i.    428,   edit.   Leipsic. 
1808.  — Ed. 


LECTURE    XLII. 

THE    FEELINGS.  —  THEORY  OF  PLEASURE   AND  PAIN. 

In  our  last  Lecture,  we  commenced  the  consideration  of  the  Sec- 
ond  Great  Class  of  the  Mental  Phainomena, — 

The  Feelings.  ^  •  i 

the  pha^nomena  of  Feeling,  —  the  pha^nomena 
of  Pleasure  and  Pain. 

Though  manifestations  of  the  same  indivisible  subject,  and  them- 
selves only  possible  through  each  other,  the  three 
Cognition.,  Feelings       ^j^^^^^  ^^  ^^^^^j  phaiuomena  still  admit  of  a  valid 

and  Conation,  — their  ,....., 

essential  peculiarities.       discrunination  in  theory,  and  requiie  severally 

a  separate  consideration  in  the  j)hilosophy  of 
mind.  I  formerly  stated  to  you,  that  though  knowledge,  though 
■consciousness,  be  the  necessary  condition  not  only  of  the  j)liaMiomena 
of  Cognition,  but  of  the  ])hieuomena  of  Feeling,  and  of  Conation, 
yet  the  attempts  of  philosophers  to  reduce  the  two  latter  classes  to 
the  first,  and  thus  to  constitute  the  faculty  of  Cognition  into  the  one 
fun<lamcntal  power  of  mind,  had  been  necessarily  unsuccessful ;  be- 
cause, though  the  phenomena  of  Feeling  and  of  Conation  appear 
only  as  they  appear  in  consciousness,  and,  therefore,  in  cognition  ; 
yet  consciousness  shows  us  in  those  pha-nomena  certain  (jualities, 
which  arc  not  contained,  either  explicitly  or  implicitly,  in  the  i)lue- 
nonu'ua  of  Cognition  itself  The  characters  by  which  these  three 
classes   are   reciprocally  discriminated   are   the   following.  —  In    tlie 

phasnomena  of  Cognition,   consciousness   distin- 

(ognition.  ^  , 

gtushes  an  object  known  irom  the  sul)ject  kiiow- 
intr.  This  subject  maybe  of  two  kinds:  —  it  may  either  be  the 
quality  of  something  different  from  the  ego;  or  it  may  be  a  modifi- 
cation of  the  ego  or  subject  itself  In  the  former  case,  the  object, 
which  may  be  called  for  the  sake  of  discrimination  the  ohjerf-ohject, 
is  given  as  something  ditferent  fiom  the  ]H'rcipient  subject.  In  the 
latter  case,  the  oV»ject,  which  may  be  ciiUetl  the  suhjcct -object,  is  given 
as  really  identical  with  tlie  conscious  ego,  but  still  consciousness 
distinguishes  it,  as  an  accident,  from  the  ego;  —  as  the  subject  of  that 
accident,  it    projects,  as   it  were,  this  subjective   pha;nomenon   from 


572  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.   XLII. 

itself,  —  views  it  at  a  distance,  —  in  a  word,  objectifies  it.  This 
discrimination  of  self  from  self,  —  this  objectification,  —  is  the  qual- 
ity which  constitutes  the  essential  peculiarity  of  Cognition.  91 

I -'   In  the  phajnomena  of  Feeling,  —  the  phaenomena  of  Pleasure  and 

Pain,  —  on  the  contrary,  consciousness  does  not 
Feeling,— how  dis-       piaee  the  mental  modification  or  state  before  it- 

crimiuated  from  Cog-  ,,.      •      t  i    .^      -^ 

sell ;  It  does  not  contemplate  it  apart,  —  as  sepa- 
rate from  itself,  —  but  is,  as  it  were,  fused  into  one. 
The  peculiarity  of  Feeling,  therefore,  is  that  tliere  is  nothing  but 
what  is  subjectively  subjective ;  there  is  no  object  different  from 
self, — no  objectification  of  any  mode  of  self  We  are,  indeed,  able 
to  constitute  our  states  of  pain  and  pleasure  into  objects  of  reflec- 
tion, but  in  so  far  as  they  are  objects  of  reflection,  they  are  not  feel- 
ings, but  only  reflex  cognitions  of  feelings. 

-    In  the  phaenomena  of  Conation,  —  the  pluenomena  of  Desire  and 

Will,  —  there  is,  as  in  those  of  Cognition,  au  ob- 

Conation -howdis-         ■  ^^^   ^|j.^    ^^.  j^  ^j^^  ^^^   ^^-^    ^f  k^o^^.]. 

criminated  from  Cog-        *'  ^  ^^.,,  ,    ,      .  ,  .,  ,        ,  i 

jijfjjjjj  edge.     W  ill  and  desire  are  only  possible  through 

knowledge,  —  "Ignoti  nulla  cupido."  But  though 
both  cognition  and  conation  bear  relation  to  an  object,  they  are  dis- 
criminated by  the  difterence  of  this  relation  itself  In  cognition, 
there  exists  no  want;  and  the  object,  whether  objective  or  subjec- 
tive, is  not  sought  for,  nor  avoided ;  whereas  in  conation,  there  is 
a  want,  and  a  tendency  supposed,  which  results  in  an  endeavor, 
either  to  obtain  the  object,  when  the  cognitive  faculties  represent  it 
as  fitted  to  afford  the  fruition  of  the  want ;  or  to  ward  off  the  object, 
if  these  fiiculties  represent  it  as  calculated  to  frustrate  the  tendency, 
,      of  its  accomplishment. 

The  feelings  Pleasure  and  Pain  and  the  Conations  are,  thus,  though 

so  frequently  confounded  by  psychologists,  easily 

Conation -how  dis-       distinguished.     It  is,  for  example,  altogether  dif- 

criniinated  from  Feel-  „  o     i  i  -i     i  •  ^  z>       • 

.  ^  lerent  to  leel  hunger  and  thirst,  as  states  ot  pain,. 

and  to  desire  or  w'ill  their  appeasement ;  and  still 
more  different  is  it  to  desire  or  will  their  appeasement,  and  to  enjoy 
the  pleasure  afforded  in  the  act  of  this  appeasement  itself  Pain  and 
pleasure,  as  feelings,  belong  exclusively  to  the  present ;  whereas  cona- 
tion has  reference  only  to  the  future,  for  conation  is  a  longing,  — 
a  striving,  either  to  maintain  the  continuance  of  the  present  state,  or 
to  exchange  it  for  another.  Thus,  conation  is  not  the  feeling  of 
pleasure  and  pain,  but  the  power  of  overt  activity,  which  pain  and 
pleasure  set  in  motion. 

But  although,  in  theory,  the  Feelings  are  thus  to  be  discriminated 
from  the  Desires  and  Volitions,  they  are,  as  I  have  frequently  ob- 


/.KCT.  XLTI.  METAPHYSICS.  573 

served,  not  to  be  considered  as  really  divided.  Both  are  condition> 
of  perhaps  all  our  mental  states;  and  while  the  Cognitions  go  priii- 
cipally  to  determine  our  speculative  sphere  of  existence,  the  Feelinirs 
and  the  Conations  more  especially  concur  in  regulating  our  practical. 
In  ray  last  Lecture,  I  stated  the  grounds  on  which  it  is  expedient 
to  consider  the  phajnomena  of  Feeling  prior  to 

What  are  the  general         disCUSsing   those    of  Coiiation  ;  —  but   before    en- 
conditions  wliich   de-         ^      .  ^ ,  .  ,  .  ,.     ,  i    ,^     , 

..        . .  tenng  on  the  consideration  or  tlie  several  feel- 

termine  the  existence         _  ° 

of  rjeasureaudraiu?       iugs,  and  before  staling  under  what  heads,  and  in 

what  order,  these  are  to  be  arranged,  I  think  it 
proper,  in  the  first  place,  to  take  up  the  general  question,  —  What 
are  the  general  conditions  which  determine  the  existence  of  Pleasure 
and  Pain  ;  for  pleasure  and  ])ain  are  the  i)h:enoinena  which  constitute 
the  essential  attribute  of  feeling,  under  all  its  modifications? 

In  the  consideration  of  this  (piestion,  I  shall  pursue  the  following 
order  :  —  I  shall,  first  of  all,  state  the  abstraci 
Theory  of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  in  other  words, 
enounce  the  fundamental  law  by  which  these  phaenomena  are  gov. 
eincd,  in  all  their  manifestations.  I  shall,  then,  take  an  historical 
retrospect  of  the  opinions  of  philosoi)hers  in  regard  to  this  subject, 
in  order  to  show  in  what  relation  the  doctrine  I  would  support  stands 
to  previous  speculations.  This  being  accomplished,  we  shall  then  be 
prepared  to  inquire,  how  fixr  the  theory  in  question  is  borne  out  by 
the  special  modifications  of  Feeling,  and  how  far  it  affords  us  a  com- 
mon principle  on  which  to  account  for  the  phaenomena  of  Pleasure 
and  Pain,  under  every  accidental  form  they  may  assume. 

I  proceed,  therefore,  to  deliver  in  somewhat  abstruse  formulae,  the 

theory  of  pleasure.     The  meaning  of  these  for- 

1.    Tho   tiiocry   of       j^^^j].^,    j    (..,„„^,t    exT»ect   sliould    be    fullv  appre- 

Mated  in  thf  abstract.       heiuled.  111   tlic   first    instance,  —  tar   less   can    I 

expect  that  the  validity  of  the  theory  should 
be  recognized,  before  the  universality  of  its  application  shall  be  illus- 
trated in  examples. 

1.   ^laii  exists  only  as  he  lives;  as  an  intelligent  and  sensible  being, 
he   consciously  lives,  but   this  only  as   he  consci- 

First  motni'iifiim.  •     '  tt  •  •  i 

oiisly  energizes.  Human  existence  is  only  a  more 
general  expression  for  human  life,  and  human  life  only  a  more  general 
expression  for  the  sum  of  energies,  in  which  that  life  is  realized,  ai;d 
through  which  it  is  manifested  in  consciousness.  In  a  word,  life  is 
energy,  and  conscious  energy  is  conscious  life.  ^ 

1  Cf  Aristotle,   Eth.  iVk.  ix.9;    x.  4  —Ed.      pns.oive;    partly  tending    to    rest,    partly    to 
J.,os(*ius,  Lexikon  v.  Yercnil^fn  ;  theory  of  cessa-      action.  —  Memorandum. 
tioii  mill  activity;  makes  partly  active,  partly 


574  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XLII 

In  explanation  of  this  paragraph,  and  of  those  which  are  to  follow, 
I  may  observe,  that  the  term  energy^  which  is  equivalent  to  act^ 
activity^  or  operation^  is  here  used  to  comprehend  also  all  the  mixed 
states  of  action  and  passion,  of  which  we  are  conscious ;  for,  inasmuch 

as  we  are  conscious  of  any  modification  of  mind. 

Comprehension    of        ,i  •  .,  ",  .    .  _ 

the  term  ener  there  IS  nccessarily  more  than  a  mere  passivity  of 

the  subject;  consciousness  itself  implying  at  least 
a  reaction.  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  the  nouns  energy^  act,  ac- 
timty,  operation,  with  the  correspondent  verbs,  are  to  be  understood 
to  denote,  indifferently  and  in  general,  all  the  processes  of  our  higher 
and  our  lower  life,  of  which  we  are  conscious.  ^  This  being  premised, 
I  proceed  to  the  second  proposition. 

II.  Human  existence,  human  life,  human  energy,  is  not  unlimited, 

but  on  the  contrary,  determined  to  a  certain  num- 

Second.  ..  i 

ber  of  modes,  through  which  alone  it  can  possibly 
be  exerted.  These  different  modes  of  action  are  called,  in  different 
x^2iX\o\\%,  p)0'wers,  facilities,  capacities,  dispositions,  habits. 

In  reference  to  this  paragraph,  it  is  only  necessary  to  recall  to  your 

attention,  that  jyower  denotes  either  a  faculty  or 

xp  ana  ion      o        ^  capacity;  faculty  denotes  a  power  of  acting, 

terms,  — jjovver,  facul-  i  ./   ^  ,/  .7  ^        ^  i  o-> 

ty,  etc.  capacity  a  power  of  being  acted  upon  or  suffer- 

ing ;  dispositio?i,  a  natuial,  and  habit,  an  ac- 
quired, tendency  to  act  or  suffer.  ^  In  reference  to  habit,  it  ought 
however  to  be  observed,  that  an  acquired  necessarily  supposes  a 
natural  tendency.  Habit,  therefore,  comprehends  a  disposition  and 
something  supervening  on  a  disposition.  The  disposition,  which  at 
first  was  a  feebler  tendency,  becomes,  in  the  end,  by  custom,  that  is, 
by  a  frequent  repetition  of  excited  energy,  a  stronger  tendency. 
Disposition  is  the  rude  original,  habit  is  the  perfect  consummation. 

III.  Man,  as  he  consciously  exists,  is  the  subject  of  pleasure  and 

pain  ;  and  these  of  various  kinds :  but  as  man  only 

Third.  .         ,  .         .  ,  ^ 

consciously  exists  in  and  through  the  exertion  of 
certain  determinate  powers,  so  it  is  only  through  the  exertion  of 
these  powers  that  he  becomes  the  subject  of  pleasure  and  pain  ;  each 
power  being  in  itself  at  once  the  faculty  of  a  specific  energy,  and 
a  capacity  of  an  appropriate  pleasure  or  pain,  as  the  concomitant  of 
that  energy. 

IV.    The  energy  of  each  power  of  conscious 

Fourth.  .  ,        .  .  , 

existence  having,  as  its  reflex  or  concomitant,  an 
appropriate  pleasure  or  pain,  and  no  pain  or  pleasure  being  competent 

1  Here  a  written  interpolation  —  Occupation,     ce.sses,  whether  active  or  passive.]    See  below. 
exercise,  perhaps  better  [expressions  than  en-      p.  595. —  Ed. 
ergy,  as  applying  equally  to  all  mental  pro-         2  See  above,  lect.  x.  p.  123.  —  EjD. 


Lect.  XLn.  METAPHYSICS  575 

to  man,  except  as  the  concomitant  of  some  determinate  energy  of 
life,  the  all-important  question  arises,  —  What  is  the  general  law 
under  which  these  counter-phsenomena  arise,  in  all  their  special 
manifestations  ? 

In  reference  to  this  proposition,  I  would  observe  that  pleasure  and 

pain  are  op{)osed  to  each  other  as  contraries,  not 

Pleasure  and  Pain       ^^  contradictories,  that  is,  the  affirmation  of  tlie 

opposed  as  contraries,  ....  .  „     ,  ,  ,  , 

not  as  contradictories.       o"®  implies  the  negation  of  the  other,  but  the 

neofation  of  the  one  does  not  infer  the  affirnia- 
lion  of  the  other  ;  for  there  may  be  a  third  or  intermediate  state, 
which  is  neither  one  of  pleasure  nor  one  of  pain,  l)ut  one  of  in- 
difference. Whether  such  a  state  of  indifference  do  ever  actually 
exist ;  or  whether,  if  it  do,  it  be  not  a  complex  state  in  which  are 
blended  an  equal  complement  of  pains  and  pleasures,  it  is  not  neces- 
sary, at  this  stage  of  our  progress,  to  inquire.  It  is  sufficient,  in  con- 
sidering the  quality  of  pleasure  as  one  opposed  to  the  quality  of 
pain,  to  inquire,  what  are  the  proximate  causes  which  determine 
them  :  or,  if  this  cannot  be  answered,  what  is  the  general  fact  or  law 
which  regulates  their  counter-manifestation ;  and  if  such  a  law  can 
be  discovered  for  the  one,  it  is  evident  that  it  will  enable  us  also  to 
explain  the  other,  for  the  science  of  contraries  is  one.  I  now  pro- 
ceed to  the  fifth  proposition. 

V.  The  answer  to  the  question  proposed  is :  —  the  more  perfect, 

the   more   pleasurable,   the   energy :    the    more 
Fifth.  .  ,  \  .     .  1 

imperfect,  the  more  pamful. 

In  reference  to  this  proposition,  it  is  to  be  observed  that  tlie  an- 
swer here  given  is  precise,  but  inexplicit ;  it  is  the  enouncement  of 
the  law  in  its  most  abstract  form,  and  requires  at  once  develo|)nient 
and  explanation.  This  I  shall  endeavor  to  give  in  tlie  following 
propositions. 

VI.  The  perfection  of  an  energy  is  twofold  ;  1",  By  relation  to  the 

power   of  which    it   is  the  exertion,  and  2",   By 
Sixth.  \     .  ,        ,  .  ,  ,  .       '.     .  '' 

relation  to  the  object  about  wlucli  it  is  conver- 
sant. The  former  relation  affords  wliat  may  be  called  its  ttubjectivey 
the  latter  what  may  be  called  its  objective^  condition. 

Tlie  explanation  and  development  of  the  preceding  propi>siti((n  is 
sriven  in  the  followinri:. 

VII.  By  relation  to  its  power  :  —  An  energy  is  perfect,  when  it  is 

tantamount  to  the  full,  and  not  to  more  than  the 

full,  complement  of  free  or  spontaneous  energy, 

which  the  power  is  capable   of  exerting  ;   an   energy  is  imperfect, 

either  1°,  When  the  power  is  restrained  from  putting  fortli  the  whole 

amount  of  energy  it  would  otherwise  tend  to  do,  or,  2°,  When  it  is 


576  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLII. 

.stimulated  to  put  forth  a  larger  aiuount  than  that  to  which  it  is  spon- 
taneously disposed.  The  amount  or  quantum  of  energy  in  the  case 
•of  a  single  power  is  of  two  kinds,  —  1°,  An  intensive,  and  2°,  A  pro- 
tensive  ;  the  former  expressing  the  higher  degree,  the  latter  the 
longer  duration,  of  the  exertion.  A  perfect  energy  is,  therefore, 
that  which  is  evolved  by  a  power,  both  in  the  degree  and  for  the 
continuance  to  which  it  is  competent  without  straining  ;  an  imperfect 
energy,  that  which  is  evolved  by  a  power  in  a  lower  or  in  a  higher 
degree,  for  a  shorter  or  for  a  longer  continuance,  than,  if  left  to 
itself,  it  would  freely  exert.  There  are,  thus,  two  elements  of  the 
perfection,  and,  consequently,  two  elements  of  the  pleasure,  of  a  sim- 
ple energy : —  its  adequate  degree  and  its  adequate  duration;  and 
four  ways  in  which  such  an  energy  may  be  imperfect,  and,  conse- 
quently, painful  ;  inasmuch  as  its  degree  may  be  either  too  high,  or 
too  low  ;  its  duration  either  too  long,  or  too  short. 

When  we  do  not  limit  our  consideration  to  the  simple  energies 
of  individual  j^owers,  but  look  to  complex  states,  in  which  a  plurality 
of  powers  maybe  called  simultaneously  into  action,  we  have,  besides 
•the  intensive  and  protensive  quantities  of  energy,  a  third  kind,  to 
■wit,  the  extensive  quantity.  A  state  is  said  to  contain  a  greater 
amount  of  extensive  energy,  in  proportion  as  it*  forms  the  comple- 
ment of  a  greater  number  of  simultaneously  cooperating  powers. 
This  complement,  it  is  evident,  may  be  conceived  as  made  up  either 
of  energies  all  intensively  and  protensively  perfect  and  pleasurable, 
or  of  energies  all  intensively  and  protensively  imperfect  and  painful, 
or  of  energies  partly  jierfect,  partly  imperfect,  and  this  in  every 
combination  afforded  by  the  various  perfections  and  imperfections 
of  the  intensive  and  protensive  quantities.  It  may  be  here  noticed, 
that  the  intensive  and  the  two  other  quantities  svand  always  in 
an  inverse  ratio  to  each  other ;  that  is,  the  higher  the  degree  of  any 
energy,  the  shorter  is  its  continuance,  and,  during  its  continuance, 
the  more  completely  does  it  constitute  the  whole  mental  state, — 
does  it  engross  the  whole  disposable  consciousness  of  the  mind. 
The  maximum  of  intensity  is  thus  the  minimum  of  continuance  and 
of  extension.  So  much  for  the  perfection,  and  proportional  pleasure, 
of  an  energy  or  state  of  energies,  by  relation  to  the  power  out  of 
which  it  is  elicited.  This  paragraph  requires,  I  think,  no  com- 
mentary. 

VIII.  By  relation  to  the  object  (and  by  the  term  object,  ue  it 
observed,  is  here  denoted  every  objective  cause 

Eighth.  ,  1  •    1  -1  •        -I  •    •       \ 

by  which  a  power  is  determined  to  activity), 
about  which  it  is  conversant,  an  energy  is  perfect,  when  this  object 
is  of  such  a  character  as  to  afford  to  its  power  the  condition  requi- 


Lect.  XLU.  METAPHYSICS.  577 

site  to  let  it  spring  to  full  spontaneous  activity ;  imperfect,  when  the 
object  is  of  such  a  character  as  either,  on  the  one  hand,  to  stimulate 
the  power  to  a  degree,  or  to  a  continuance,  of  activity  beyond  its 
maximum  of  free  exertion ;  or,  on  the  other  hand,  to  thwart  it  in  its 
tendency  towards  this  its  natural  limit.  An  object  is,  consequently, 
pleasurable  or  painful,  inasmuch  as  it  thus  determines  a  power  to 
perfect  or  to  imperfect  energy. 

But  an  object,  or  complement  of  objects  simultaneously  presented, 
may  not  only  determine  one  but  a  plurality  of  powers  into  coac- 
tivity.  The  complex  state,  which  thus  arises,  is  pleasurable,  in  pro- 
portioii  as  its  constitutive  energies  are  severally  more  perfect ;  pain- 
ful, in  proportion  as  these  are  more  imperfect;  and  in  proportion 
as  an  object,  or  a  complement  of  objects,  occasions  the  average  ])er- 
fection  or  the  average  imperfection  of  the  complex  state,  is  it,  in  like 
manner,  pleasurable  or  painful. 

TX.  Pleasure  is,  thus,  the  result  of  certain  harmonious  relations, 

—  of  certain  agreements ;  pain,  on  the  contrary, 

^  '"*  '■  the  effect  of  certain  unharmonious  relations  — 

Definitions  of  Pleas-  „  .        ,.  ,  rr^.  ,  i  i       • 

,„.  01   certam   disagreements.      Ihe   pleasurable  is, 

ure  and  Pain.  »  '  ' 

therefore,  not  inappropriately  called  the  agree- 
able^ the  painful  the  disagreeable  ,■  and,  in  conformity  to  this  doc- 
trine, ]»leasure  and  pain  may  be  thus  defined  : 

Pleasure  is  a  reflex  of  the  spontaneous  and  unimpeded  exertion 
of  a  power,  of  whose  energy  we  are  conscious.'  Pain,  a  reflex  of 
the  overstrained  or  repressed  exertion  of  such  a  power. 

I  shall  say  a  word   in   illustration  of  these  definitions.     Taking 

pleasure,  —  pleasure  is  defined  to  be  the  reflex 

The    definition    of       ^f  energy,  and  of  perfect  energy,  and  not  to  be 

Pleasure  illustrated.  .^,  '  ^i  />     >.•  r>  -^      i/^ 

,  ,.,         ,,      ^  either  ener<>v  or  the  perfection  of  enertjrv  itself, 

I.  Pleasure  the  rene.\  .  .  o.  ' 

of  energy.  —  ii"fl  ^vhv  ?     It  is  iiot  simply  defined  an  energy, 

exertion,  or  act,  because  some  energies  are  not 
2)leasurablc,  —  being  either  painful  or  inditrerent.  It  is  not  simply 
defined  the  perfection  of  an  energy,  because  we  can  easily  separate 
in  thought  the  perfection  of  an  act,  a  conscious  act,  from  any  feel- 
ing of  })leasure  in  its  performance.  The  same  holds  true,  mxitatis 
nrmtandis^  of  the  definition  of  i)ain,  as  a  reflex  of  imperfect  energy. 

Again,  pleasure  is  defined  the  leflex  of  the  spontaneous  and  unim- 
peded,—  of  free  and  unimpeded,  exertion  of  a  power,  of  whose 

1  Thi.s  i!<  substantially  the  definition  of  Aris-  book  of  the  same  treatise,  and  wliich  perhaps 

fotle,  whose  doctrine,  as  expounded  in  the  properly  belongs  to  the  Ett'lrminn  Ethirs,  the 

10th  book  of  Ihe  Nirowarhran   Ethics,  is  more  pleasure  is  identified  with  thecuergy  itself. — 

fully  stated   below,  p.  584.     In  the  le^s  accu-  Kd. 
rate  dissertation,  which    occurs  in  the   7th 

7:? 


578  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLIL 

energy  we  are  conscious.     Here  the  terra  spontaneous  refers  to  the 

subjective,  the  term  unimpeded  to  the  objective, 

2.  Spontaneous  and  n     ^-  mi-  .1  , 

,  .  periection.       iouchuiff   the    term   spontaneous, 

unimpeded.  ■*•  o  1  r 

every  power,  all  conditions  being  sui)plied,  and 
all  impediments  being  removed,  tends,  of  its  proper  nature  and 
without  effort,  to  put  forth  a  certain  determinate  maximum,  intens- 
ive and  protensive,  of  free  energy.  This  determinate  maximum  of 
free  energy,  it,  therefore,  exerts  spontaneously :  if  a  less  amount 
than  this  be  actually  put  forth,  a  certain  quantity  of  tendency  has 
been  forcibly  repressed ;  whereas,  if  a  greater  than  this  has  been 
actually  exerted,  a  certain  amount  of  nisus  has  been  forcibly  stimu- 
lated in  the  power.  The  term  spontaneously,  therefore,  provides, 
that  the  exertion  of  the  power  has  not  been  constrained  beyond  the 
proper  limit,  —  the  natural  maximum,  to  which,  if  left  to  itself,  it 
freely  spriugs. 

Again,  in  regard  to  the  term  unimpeded,  —  this  stipulates  that 
the  power  should  not  be  checked  in  the  spring  it  would  thus  spon- 
taneously make  to  its  maximum  of  energy,  that  is,  it  is  supposed 
that  the  conditions  requisite  to  allow  this  spring  have  been  supplied, 
and  that  all  impediments  to  it  have  been  removed.  This  postulates 
of  course  the  presence  of  an  object.  The  definition  further  states, 
that  the  exertion  must  be  that  of  a  power  of  whose  eneigy  we  are 

conscious.     This  requires  no  illustration.     There 

3.  Of  which  we  are  •  .i  a.-    •^-  £•       i  •    \.    t 

are  powers  in   man,  the  activities  oi  which  he 

conscious.  '■ 

beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness.  But  it  is 
of  the  very  essence  of  pleasure  and  pain  to  be  felt,  and  there  is  no 
feeling  out  of  consciousness.  What  has  now  been  said  of  the  terras 
used  in  the  definition  of  pleasure,  renders  all  comment  superfluoua 
on  the  parallel  expressions  employed  in  that  of  pain. 
,,  On  this  doctrine  it  is  to  be  observed,  that  there  are  given  differ- 
ent kinds  of  pleasure,  and  different  kinds  of 

Pleasure, -Positive  -^       j^  ^^^  g^.^^      .  ^^^^^  ^^^  twofold,  InaS- 

and  Negative.  '■  ^ 

much  as  each  is  either  Positive  and  Absolute,  or 
Negative  and  Relative.  In  regard  to  the  former,  the  mere  negation 
of  pain  does,  by  relation  to  pain,  constitute  a  state  of  pleasure. 
Thus,  the  removal  of  the  toothache  replaces  us  in  a  state  which, 
though  one  really  of  indifference,  is,  by  contrast  to  our  previous 
agony,  felt  as  pleasurable.  This  is  negative  or  relative  pleasure. 
Positive  or  absolute  pleasure,  on  the  contrary,  is  all  that  pleasure 
which  we  feel  above  a  state  of  indifference,  and  which  is,  therefore, 
prized  as  a  good  in  itself,  and  not  simply  as  the  removal  of  an  evil. 
On  the  sarae  principle,  pain  is  also  divided  into  Positive  or  Absa 


r  — — » 
/ 


Lect.  xlii.  metaphysics.  579 

lute,  and  into  Negative  or  Relative.     But,  in  the  second  place,  there 

is,  moreover,  a  subdivision  of  positive  pain  into 
rain,— Positive  and  that  Avhich  accompanies  a  repression  of  the 
^*''*'^*''  spontaneous  energy  of  a  power,  and  that  which 

Positive    pain,  sub-         .  ..        ,       ..i.,         rr-     ,         i  ,.        <  ^ 

,.  .,  ,  IS  coniomed  with  its  eitort,  when  stimulated  to 

divided.  -J         _  ' 

over-activity. ' 
I  proceed  now  to  state  certain  corollaries,  which  flow  immediately 
from  the  preceding  doctrine. 

In  the  first  place,  as  the  powers  which,  in  an  individual,  are  either 
preponderantly  strong  by  nature,  or  have  become 

Corollaries  from  pre-  i  ,i         .  i,       i     i^-^     i 

^  preponderanth^  strong  bv  habit,  have  compara- 

cedini,' doctrine.  i_      *  •'  o       ►  '  I 

1.  The  individual  tively  more  perfect  energies;  so  the  pleasures 
will  be  disposed  to  ex-  which  accompany  these  will  l)e  proportionally 
ercise  his  more  vigor-       intense  and  enduring.     But  this  beim;  the  case, 

ous  powers.  ,       .,..,       ,       .,,,        ,.  ,        .       .^,,       .„ 

the  individual  will  be  disposed  principally,  if  not 
exclusively,  to  exercise  these  more  vigorous  powers,  for  theu-  ener- 
gies afford  him  the  largest  complement  of  purest  pleasure.  "  Trahit 
sua  quemque  voluptas,"*  each  has  his  ruling  passion. 

But,  in  the  second  place,  as  the  exercise  of  a  power  is  the  only 

means  by  which  it  is  invigorated,  but  as,  at  the 

2.  Those    faculties       same  time,  this  exercise,  until  the  development 
which  most  need  cui-       ^^   accomplished,   elicits  imperfect,   and,   there- 

tivation,  the  least  se-  x   i        x  i  i  i  i 

jjyyg  jf  lore,  paintul,  or  at  least  less  pleasurable,  energy, 

—  it  follows  that  those  faculties  which  stand  the 
most  in  need  of  cultivation,  are  precisely  those  which  the  least 
secure  it;  while,  on  the  contrary,  those  which  are  already  more 
fully  developed,  are  precisely  those  which  present  the  strongest 
inducements  for  their  still  higher  in vigo ration. 

1  [With    the    forcKoing   theory    compare  [Bonnet,  £ls5at'.4n^y<i7u«  5ur  rjm«,  caps.  xvii. 

Hutchcson,  Stjstem  of  Moral   Philosophy,  i.  p.  xx.     Ferguson,    Prin.  of  Moral  and   Political 

21  el  seq      LUders,  Kritik  d   Statistik,  p.  4.57-9.  Scitnre,  Part  ii   c.  1,  §  2.  —  Ed.] 

Ti«dcmann,  Psychotoete,   p.  151.  edit.   1804.]  2  Virgil,  i^c/.  ii.  65.  — Ed. 


LECTURE    XLIII. 

THE   FEELINGS.  —  HISTORICAL   ACCOUNT   OF   THEORIES   OF 

PLEASURE   AND   PAIN. 

In  my  last  Lecture,  I  gave  an  abstract  statement  of  that  Theory 
of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  which,  I  think,  is  compe- 

Recapitu  a  ion.  tent,  and  exclusively  competent,  to  explain  the 

whole  multiform  phaenomena  of  our  Feelings,  —  a  theory,  conse- 
quently, which  those  whole  j^haenoraena  concur  in  establishing.  It 
is,  in  truth,  nothing  but  a  generalization  of  what  is  essential  in  the 
concrete  facts  themselves.  Before,  however,  proceeding  to  show, 
by  its  application  to  particular  cases,  that  this  theory  affords  us  a 
simple  principle,  on  which  to  account  for  the  most  complicated  and 
perplexing  phaenomena  of  Feeling,  I  shall  attempt  to  give  you  a 

slight  survey  of  the  most  remarkable  opinions 

General    historical       on  this  point.     To  do  this,  however  imperfectly, 

notices  of  Theories  of  .         r.  , ,  •  ,  , ,  •  ,     • 

IS  oi  the  more  importance,  as  there  is  no  work  m 

the  Pleasurable.  _  '_  ' 

which  any  such  historical  deduction  is  attempt- 
ed ;  but  princijially,  because  the  various  theories  of  philosophers 
on  the  doctrine  of  the  pleasurable,  are  found,  when  viewed  in  con- 
nection, all  to  concur  in  manifesting  the  truth  of  that  one  which  I 
have  proposed  to  you,  —  a  theory,  in  fact,  which  is  the  resumption 
and  complement  of  them  all.  In  attempting  this  survey,  I  by  no 
means  propose  to  furnish  even  an  indication  of  all  the  opinions  that 
have  been  held  in  regard  to  the  pleasurable  in  general,  nor  even  of 
iill  the  doctrines  on  this  subject  that  have  been  advanced  by  the 
authors  to  whom  I  specially  refer.  I  can  only  afford  to  speak  of  the 
more  remarkable  theories,  and,  in  these,  only  of  the  more  essential 
particulars.  But,  in  point  of  fact,  though  there  is  no  end  of  what 
lias  been  written  upon  jileasure  and  pain,  considered  in  their  moral 
relations  and  effects,  the  speculations  in  regard  to  their  psycholog- 
ical causes  and  conditions  are  comparatively  few.  In  general,  I 
may  also  premise  that  there  is  apparent  a  remarkable  gravitation  in 
the  various  doctrines  promulgated  on  this  point,  towards  a  common 
centre ;  and,  however  one-sided  and  insufficient  the  several  opinions 


Lect.  XLIII.  METAPHYSICS.  581 

may  appear,  they  are  all  substantially  grounded  upon  truth,  being 
usually  right  in  what  they  affirm,  and  wrong  only  in  what  they 
deny;  all  are  reflections,  but  only  partial  reflections,  of  the  truth. 

These  opinions,  I  may  further  remark,  fall  into 
These  theories  fall       ^^^  great  classes ;  and  at  the  head  of  each  there 

into  two  grand  classes,         •      r-  i  p^ii  ^i-i  i  £■ 

IS  lound  one  ot  the  two  ijreat  piiiloso])hers  ot 

—  the     riatonic    and  . 

Aristoteiic.  antiquity, —  Plato  being  the  founder  of  the  one 

general  theory,  Aristotle  of  the  other.  But 
though  the  distinction  of  these  classes  pervades  the  whole  history 
o<  the  doctrines,  I  do  not  deem  it  necessary  to  follow  this  classifica- 
tion in  the  following  observations,  but  shall  content  myself  with  a 
chronological  arrangement. 

Plato  is  the  first  ])hilosopher  who  can  be  said  tu  liave  attempted 

the  generalization  of  a  law  which  regulates  the 

riato  the  first  to  at-       nianifestation  of  pleasure  and  pain  ;  and  it  is  but 

tempt  t  u!  genera  iza-       gcjjntv  iusticB  to  acknowledge  that  no  subsequent 

tion  ot  a  law  of  I'leas-  .  .  . 

ure  and  Pain.  philosopher  lias  handled  the  subject  with  greater 

ingenuity  and  acuteness.  For  though  the  theory 
of  Aristotle  be  more  fully  developed,  and,  as  I  am  convinced,  upon 
the  whole  the  most  complete  and  accurate  which  we  possess,  it  is 
but  fair  to  add,  that  he  borrowed  a  considerable  i)ortion  of  it  from 
Plato,  whose  doctrine  he  corrected  and  enlarged. 

The  opinion  of  Plato  regarding  the  source  of  pleasure   is  con- 
tained in  the  Philehus.,  and  in  the  ninth  book  of 
Plato's  theory, -that       ^\^q   Republic,   with   incidental   allusions   to    his 

a  state  of  pleasure   is         .,  .         ,i  j.    ,  mu  •      ^i  •      _ 

'      ^  ^  theory  in  other  dialogues.     1  hus,  m  the  opening 

always  preceded  by  a  ■'  ="  . 

state  of  paiu.  of  the  Phmdo^  we  have  the  following  statement 

of  its  distinguishing  principle,  —  that  a  state  of 
l)leasure  is  always  preceded  by  a  state  of  pain.  Pha?do,  in  <lescrib- 
ing  the  conduct  of  Socrates  in  the  prison  and  on  the  eve  of  death, 
narrates,  that  "sitting  upright  on  the  bed  he  (Socrates)  drew  uj)  his 
leg,  and  stroking  it  with  his  hand,  said  at  the  same  time,  —  •  Wliat 
a  wonderful  thing  is  this,  my  friends,  which  men  call  the  pleasant 
and  agreeable!  and  how  wonderful  a  relation  does  it  bear  by  nature 
to  that  which  seems  to  be  its  contrary,  the  painful !  For  they  ai  e 
unwilling  to  be  present  with  us  both  together  ;  and  yet,  if  any  per- 
son pursues  and  obtains  the  one,  he  is  most  always  under  a  necessity 
of  accepting  also  the  other,  as  if  both  of  them  depended  from  a 
single  summit.  And  it  seems  to  me'  (he  continues),  'that  if  .^sop 
had  perceived  this,  he  would  have  written  a  fable  upon  it,  and  have 
told  us  that  the  Deity,  being  willing  to  reconcile  the  contlictive 
natures,  but  at  the  same  time  unal)1c  to  accomplish  this  design,  con- 

1  1'.  60. —  Ed. 


682  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLIIL 

joined  their  summits  in  an  existence  one  and  the  same ;  and  that 
hence  it  comes  to  pass  that  whoever  partakes  of  the  one,  is  soon 
after  compelled  to  participate  in  the  other.  And  this,  as  it  appears, 
is  the  case  with  myself  at  present ;  for  the  pain  which  was  before  in 
my  leg,  through  the  stricture  of  the  fetter,  is  now  succeeded  by  a 
]>leasanl  sensation.' " 

The  following  extract  from  the  Philehus^  will,  however,  show 
more  fully  the  purport  and  grounds  of  liis  opinion : 

"  Socrates.  I  say  then,  that  whenever  the  har- 

Quotation  from  the  •       ^v,       r  c  •        i    •      i.      i 

,.^.,  ^  mony  in  the  irame  oi  any  animal  is  broken,  a 

Philebus.  •'       ^  _  •'  ' 

breach  is  then  made  in  its  constitution,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  rise  is  given  to  pains. 

'•'•  Protarchus.  You  say  what  is  highly  probable. 

'•  Soc.  But  when  the  harmony  is  restored,  and  the  breach  is 
healed,  we  should  say  that  then  pleasure  is  produced ;  if  points  of 
so  great  importance  may  be  despatched  at  once  in  so  few  words. 

'•'•  Prot.  In  my  opinion,  O  Socrates,  you  say  what  is  very  true; 
but  let  us  try  if  we  can  show  these  truths  in  a  light  still  clearer. 

"  Sioc.  Are  not  such  things  as  ordinai-ily  happen,  and  are  manifest 
to  us  all,  the  most  easy  to  be  understood? 

"  Prot.  What  things  do  you  mean  ? 

"  Soc.  Want  of  food  makes  a  breach  in  the  animal  system,  and, 
at  the  same  time,  gives  the  pain  of  hunger. 

"■Prot.  True. 

"  Soc.  And  food,  in  filling  u])  the  breach  again,  gives  a  pleasure. 

''Prot.  Right. 

"  Soc.  Want  of  drink  also,  interrupting  the  circulation  of  the 
blood  and  humors,  brings  on  us  corruption  together  with  the  pain 
of  thirst ;  l>ut  the  virtue  of  a  liquid  in  moistening  and  replenishing 
the  parts  dried  up,  yields  a  pleasure.  In  like  manner,  unnatural 
suffocating  heat,  in  dissolving  the  texture  of  the  parts,  gives  a  pain- 
ful sensation  ;  but  a  cooling  again,  a  refreshment  agreeable  to  nature, 
affects  us  with  a  sense  of  pleasure. 

"  Prot.  Most  certainly. 

"  Soc.  And  the  concretion  of  the  animal  humors  through  cold, 
contrary  to  their  nature,  occasions  pain ;  but  a  return  to  their  prig- 
tine  state  of  fluidity,  and  a  restoring  of  the  natural  circulation,  pro- 
duce pleasure.  See,  then,  whether  you  think  this  general  account 
of  the  matter  not  amiss,  concerning  that  sort  of  being  which  I  said 
was  composed  of  indefinite  and  definite, —  that,  when  by  nature 
any  beings  of  that  sort  become  animated  with  soul,  their  passage 
into  corruption,  or  a  total  dissolution,  is  accompanied  with  pain; 

1  p.  31.— Ed. 


Lect.  XLIII.  MKTAi'HYSICS.  583 

and  their  entrance  into  existence,  the  assembling  of  all  those  par- 
ticles which  compose  the  nature  of  such  a  being,  is  attended  with  a 
sense  of  ])leasure. 

'■'■  Prot.  I  admit  your  account  of  tliis  whole  matter;  for,  as  it 
apj)ears  to  mo,  it  bears  on  it  the  stamp  of  truth." 

And,  in  a  subsequent  ])art  of  the.  dialogue,  Socrates  is  made  to 
approve  of  the  doctrine  of  the  Eleatic  School,  in  regard  to  the  unre- 
ality of  pleasure,  as  a  thing  always  in  generation,  that  is,  always  in 
])rogress  towards  existence,  but  never  absolutely  existent. 

"  aS'oc.  But  what  think  you  now  of  this  ?  Have  we  not  heard  it 
said  concerning  pleasure,  that  it  is  a  thing  always  in  generation, 
always  pi-oduced  anew,  and  which,  having  no  stability  of  being, 
<-annot  j)roperly  be  said  to  be  at  all?  For  some  ingenious  persons 
there  are,  who  endeavor  to  show  us  that  such  is  the  nature  of  j>leas- 
i;re;  and  we  are  much  obliged  to  them  for  this  their  account  of 
it."^ 

Then,  after  an  expository  discourse  on  the  Eleatic  doctrine,  Soc- 
rates proceeds:- — "Therefore,  as  I  said  in  the  beginning  of  this 
iirguraentation,  we  are  much  obliged  to  the  persons  who  have  given 
us  this  account  of  pleasure,  —  that  the  essence  of  it  consists  in  bein"- 
:ihvays  generated  anew,  but  that  never  has  it  any  kind  of  being. 
For  it  is  i)laiu  that  tliese  persons  would  laugh  at  a  man  who  asserted, 
that  pleasure  and  good  were  the  same  thing. 

'•'•  Prot.  Certainly  they  would. 

"  Soc.  And  these  very  persons  would  undoubtedly  laugh  at  those 
men,  wherever  they  met  with  them,  who  place  their  chief  good 
and  end  in  a  becoming,  —  an  approximation  to  existence? 

'•'•  Prot.  How?  what  sort  of  men  do  you  mean? 

'•  Soc.  Such  as,  in  freeing  themselves  from  hunger  or  thirst,  or 
any  of  the  uneasinesses  from  which  they  are  freed  by  generation, — 
by  tending  towards  being,  are  so  highly  delighted  with  the  action 
of  removing  tliose  uneasinesses,  as  to  declare  they  would  not  choose 
to  live  without  suffering  thirst  and  hunger,  nor  without  feeling  all 
those  other  sensations  wiiicli  may  be  said  to  follow  fro?n  such  kinds 
of  uneasiness." 

The  Bum  of  Plato's  doctrine  on  this  subject  is  this,  —  that  j)lea8- 

ure  is  nothing  absolute,  nothing  positive,  but  a 

Sum  of  iMato's  doc-       n^^xQ.  relation  to,  a  mere  negation  of,  pain.     Pain 

trine  of   the  I'lcasur-         .  ,.   .  ,  -  .     , 

j^j^,^  18  the  root,  the  condition,  the  antecedent  oi  jileas- 

ure,  and  tlie  latter  is  only  a  restoration  of  the 
feeling  •ubject,  from  a  state  contrary  to  nature  to  a  state  conforma- 
ble witli  nature.     Pleasure  is  the  mere  rcplciiisliing  of  a  vacuum, — 

1  1'.  53  —  Ku  2  r.  54.  —  Kc. 


584  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLUt 

the  mere  satisfying  of  a  want.  With  this  principal  doctrine, —  that 
pleasure  is  only  the  negation  of  pain,  Plato  connects  sundry  collate- 
ral opinions  in  conformity  to  his  general  system.  That  pleasure,  for 
example,  is  not  a  good,  and  that  it  is  nothing  real  or  existent,  but 
something  only  in  the  progress  towards  existence,  —  never  beings 

ever  becoming  [ael  ytyi'dyuevov,  Qv^iirore  of). 

Aristotle  saw  the  partiality  and  imperfection  of  this  theory,  and 

himself  proposed  another,  which  should  supply 

The  doctrine  of  Aris-       its  deficiencies.    Ilis  Speculations  concerning  the 

totie  proposed  to  cor-       pleasurable  are  to  be  found  in  his  Ethical  Trea- 

reet   and   i^upplement 

the  riatonic.  tises,  and,  to  say  nothmg  of  the  two  lesser  works, 

the  Magna  Moralia  and  the  Eudemian  Ethics^ 
you  will  find  the  subject  fully  discussed  in  the  seventh  and  tenth 
Books  of  the  Nicomachean  Ethics.  I  shall  sav  nothinir  of  Aris- 
totle's  arguments  against  Eudoxus,  as  to  whether  pleasure  be  the 
chief  good,  and  against-  Plato,  as  to  whether  it  be  a  good  at  all,  — 
these  are  only  ethical  questions ;  I  shall  confine  my  observations  to 
the  psychological  problem  touching  the  law  which  governs  its 
manifestation.      Aristotle,  in   the  first  place,  refutes  the  Platonic 

theory,  that  pleasure  is  only  the  removal  of  a 

Aristotle  refutes  the       pain.    "  Sincc  it  is  asscrted,"  he  says,-  "  that  pain 

Platonic    doctrine,-       j^  ^  ^^^^^  ^^  indigence  (tv^ua)  contrnrv  to  na- 

that  pleasure  is  only  ^  \  j 

the  removal  of  a  pain.       turc,  pleasure   Will  be  a  repletion,  a  filling  up 

{avaTrXrfpwa-L'i)  of  that  want  in  conformity  to  na- 
ture. But  want  and  its  repletion  are  corporeal  aflfections.  Now  if 
pleasure  be  the  repletion  of  a  want  contrary  to  nature,  that  which 
contains  the  repletion  will  contain  the  pleasure,  and  the  faculty  of 
being  pleased.  But  the  want  and  its  repletion  are  in  the  body ;  the 
body,  therefore,  will  be  pleased,  —  the  body  will  be  the  subject  of 
this  feeling.  But  the  feeling  of  pleasure  is  an  aflx?ction  of  the  soul. 
Pleasure,  therefore,  cannot  be  merely  a  repletion.  True  it  is,  that 
pleasure  is  consequent  on  the  repletion  of  a  want,  as  pain  is  conse- 
quent on  the  want  itself  For  we  are  pleased  when  our  wants  are 
satisfied  ;  pained  when  this  is  prevented. 

"  It  appears,"  proceeds  the  Stagirite,  "  that  this  opinion  has  origi- 
nated in  an  exclusive  consideration  of  our  bodily  pains  and  pleas- 
ures, and  more  especially  those  relative  to  food.  For  Avhen  inani- 
tion has  taken  place,  and  we  have  felt  the  pains  of  hunger,  we  expe- 
rience pleasure  in  its  repletion.     But  the  same  does  not  hold  good 

1  The  genuineness  of  these  two  works  is  of,  the  three  books  which  are  common  to  botk 

questionable.    The  chapters  on  pleasure  in  treatises.  —  Ed. 

Eudemian  Ethics  are  identical  with  those  in  2  Eth.  Nic.  x.  3  —  Ed 
the  Vth  book  of  the  Nicomachean,  being  part 


Lect.  xliii.  metaphysics.  585 

in  reference  to  all  our  pleasures.  For  the  pleasure  we  find,  for  ex 
ample,  in  mathematical  contemplations,  and  even  in  some  of  the 
senses,  is  wholly  unaccompanied  Avith  pain.  Thus  the  gratification 
we  derive  from  the  energies  of  hearing,  smell,  and  sight,  is  not  con- 
sequent on  any  foregone  pain,  and  in  them  there  is,  therefore,  no 
repletion  of  a  want.  Moreover,  hope,  and  the  recollection  of  past 
good,  are  pleasing ;  but  are  the  i)leasures  from  these  a  repletion  ? 
This  cannot  be  maintained  ;  for  in  them  there  is  no  want  preceding, 
which  could  admit  of  repletion.  Hence  it  is  manifest,  that  pleasure 
is  not  the  negation  of  a  pain." 

Having  disposed  of  Plato's  theory,  Aristotle  proposes  his  own; 
and  his  doctrine,  in  as  far  as  it  goes,  is  altogether 

llie  theory  of  Aris-  r  ii*.4.iiTT  •  ^  xu 

coniormable  to  that  1  have  given  to  you,  as  the 
one  that  appears  to  me  the  true. 

Pleasure  is  maintained  by  Aristotle  to  be  the  concomitant  of 
energy, — of  perfect  energy,  whether  of  the  func- 

pieasure,  according       lions' of  Sense  or  Intellect;  and  .perfect  energy 

to  Aristotle,  is  the  con-  ,  /  ^  , 

comitant   of  the  iin-       ^^^   describes    as   that   which    proceeds   from   a 

impeded  energy  of  a       powcr  in  health  and  vigor,  and  exercised  upon 

P""*""'  an  object  rehiti\'ely  excellent,  that  is,  suited  to 

call  forth  the  power  into  unimpeded  activity.     Pleasure,  though  the 

result,  —  the  concomitant  of  perfect  action,  he  distinguishes  from  the 

]»erfect  action  itself.     It  is  not  the  action,  it  is  not  the  perfection, 

though  it  be  consequent  on  action,  and  a  necessary  efflorescence  of 

its  i)erfection.     Pleasure  is  thus  defined  by  Aristotle  to  be  the  con- 

ctnnitant  of  the  unimpeded  energy  of  a  natural   power,  faculty,  or 

acquired  habit.'     "  Thus  when  a  sense,  for  exam- 
Aristotle  quoted.  ...  f      ,    1         1.1  -I    •.    •  ,      T        •    1 

pie,  IS  m  periect  Jiealth,  and  it  is  presented  with 
a  suitable  object  of  the  most  perfect  kind,  there  is  elicited  the  most 
perfect  energy,  wliich,  at  every  instant  of  its  continuance,  is  accom- 
panied with  pleasure.  The  same  holds  go<t<l  with  the  function  of 
Imagination.  Tliought,  etc.  Pleasure  is  tlie  concomitant  in  every 
case  where  powers  and  objects  are  in  themselves  perfect,  and  be- 
tween which  there  subsists  a  suitable  relation.  Hence  arises  the 
pleasure  of  novelty.  For  on  the  first  presentation  of  a  new  object, 
the  energy  of  cognition  is  intensely  directed  upon  it,  and  the  pleas- 
lue  high  ;  whereas  when  the  object  is  again  and  again  presented,  the 
energy  relaxes,  and  the  ))lc:isure  declines.  But  pleasure  is  not 
merely  the  consequent  of  the  most  perfect  exertion  of  power;  for  it 
reacts  upon  tlie  jiower  itself,  by  raising,  invigorating,  and  jterfecting 
its  development.  For  we  make  no  progress  in  a  study,  except  wo 
feel  a  j>leasuie  in  its  pursuit. 

1  See  above,  j>  577  —  Ku 

74 


586  MKTAPII YSICS.  Lect.  XLIII. 

''  Every  aifferent  power  has  its  peculiar  pleasure  and  its  peculiar 
pain  ;  and  each  power  is  as  much  corrupted  by  its  appropriate  pain 
as  it  is  perfected  by  its  appropriate  pleasure.  Pleasure  is  not  some- 
thing that  arises,  —  that  comes  into  existence,  part  after  part;  it  is, 
on  the  contrary,  complete  at  every  indivisible  instant  of  its  contin- 
uance. It  is  not,  therefore,  as  Plato  holds,  a  change,  a  motion,  a 
generation  (yeVeo-ts,  kiVt^o-i?),  Avhich  exists  piecemeal  as  it  were,  and 
successively  in  time,  and  only  complete  after  a  certain  term  of  en- 
durance ;  but  on  the  contrary  something  instantaneous,  and,  from 
moment  to  moment,  perfect."^ 

Such  were  the  two  theories  touching  the  law  of  ])]easure  and 
pain,  propounded  by  the  two  principal  thinkers 

Nothing  added  in  of  antiquity.  To  their  doctrines  on  this  point 
anti.iu.ty  to  the  two       ^^  gj^^|  nothing  added,  worthv  of  commemora- 

theories  of  Plato  and  .  .  .       ' 

Aristotle.  tion,  by  the  succeeding  philoso]ihers  of  Greece 

and  Rome  ;  nay,  we  do  not  find  that  in  antiquity 
these  doctrines  received  any  farther  development  or  confirmation. 
Among  the  ancients,  however,  the  Aristotelic  theory  seems  to  have 
soon  superseded  the  Platonic  ;  for,  even  among  the  lower  Platonists 
themselves,  there  is  no  attempt  to  vindicate  the  doctrine  of  their 
master,  in  so  far  as  to  assert  that  all  pleasure  is  only  a  relief  from 
pain.  Their  sole  endeavor  is  to  reconcile  Plato's  opinion  with  that 
of  Aristotle,  by  showing  that  the  former  did  not  mean  to  extend  the 
principle  in  question  to  pleasure  in  general,  but  applied  it  only  to 
the  pleasures  of  certain  of  the  senses.  And,  in  truth,  various  passa- 
ges in  the  Philebus  and  in  the  ninth  book  of  the  Hejniblic^  afford 
countenance  to  this  interpretation.^  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  it 
was  only  in  more  recent  times  that  the  Platonic  doctrine,  in  all  its 
exclusive  rigor,  was  again  revived ;  and  that  too  by  philosophers 
who  seem  not  to  have  been  aware  of  the  venerable  authority  in 
favor  of  the  pai-adox  which  they  proposed  as  new.  I  may  add  that 
the  philosophers,  who  in  modern  times  have  speculated  upon  the 
conditions  of  the  pleasurable,  seem,  in  general,  unaware  of  what  had 
been  attempted  on  this  problem  by  the  ancients ;  and  it  is  indeed 
this  circumstance  alone  that  enables  us  to  explain,  why  the  modern 
theories  on  this  subject,  in  principle  the  same  with  that  of  Aristotle, 
have  remained  so  inferior  to  his  in  the  great  virtues  of  a  theory,  — 
comprehension  and  simplicity. 

1  See  Eth.  Nit.  x  4. 5.  —  Ed.  [On  Aristotle's  both  of  Sense  and  Intellect,  is,  according  to 
doctrine  ol  tlie  I'leasurable;  see  Teunemaiin,  Plato,  accompanied  with  a  sensation  of 
Gtsh.  der  Fhiloaofhie,  iii.  200]  plAsure  and  pain.     Rer'ublic,  ix.  557.     Phile- 

2  [Plato,  a.s  well  as  Aristotle,  seems  to  have  bus,  p.  211,  edit.  Bip.  See  Tennemann,  (?«• 
made  pleasure  consist  in  a  harmonious,  pain  schkhtt  der  Philosophie,  ii.  p.  290.] 

in  a  disharmonious,  energy.    Every  energy, 


Lect.  XLm.  METAPHYSICS.  587 

Before,  however,  proceeding  to  the  consideration  of  subsequent 

opinions,  it  may  be  proper  to  observe  that  the 

The  tiKories  of  Plato       theories  of  PUito  and  Aristotle,  however  oppo- 

and  Aristotle  reduced  .         .  ^^       ^  t  i 

^jjj^  Site  in   appearance,  may  easily   be  reduced  to 

unity,  and  the  theory  of  which  I  liave  given  you 
the  general  expression,  will  be  found  to  be  the  consummated  com- 
plement of  both.  The  two  doctrines  differ  only  essentially  in  this : 
—  that  the  one  makes  a  previous  pain  the  universal  condition  of 
pleasure  ;  while  the  other  denies  this  condition  as  a  general  law,  and 
holds  that  pleasure  is  a  positive  reality,  and  more  than  the  mere 
nlternative  of  pain.  Now,  in  regard  to  this  difference,  it  must  be 
admitted,  on  the  one  liand,  that  in  so  far  as  the  instances  are  con- 
cerned, on  which  Plato  attempts  to  establish  his  princiiWe,  Aristotle 
is  successful  in  showing,  that  these  are  only  special  cases,  and  do 
not  warrant  the  unlimited  conclusion  in  support  of  which  they  are 
adduced. 

But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  confessed  that  Aristotle  ha« 
not  shown  the  principle  to  be  false,  —  that  all  pleasure  is  an  escape 
from  ])ain.     lie  shows,  indeed,  that  the  analogy  of  hunger,  thirst, 

and  other  bodily  affections,  cannot  be  extended 

In  what  sense  the       ^^y  ^\^Q  gratification  we  experience  from  the  ener- 

Platonic     dogma      is  .  f  •    ,    ^^      j.  ^   i  *        i     i 

gCies  oi  intellect,  —  cannot  be  extended  even  to 

true.  ... 

that  which  we  experience  in  the  exercise  of  the 
higher  senses.  It  is  true,  that  the  pleasure  I  experience  in  this  par- 
ticular act  of  vision,  cannot  be  explained  from  the  j»ain  I  had  felt  in 
another  particular  act  of  vision,  immediately  preceding;  and  if  this 
example  were  enough,  it  would  certaiidy  be  made  out  that  pleasure 
is  not  merely  the  negation  of  a  foregoing  pain.  But  let  us  ascend  a 
step  higher  and  iiKjuire,  —  would  it  not  be  painful  if  the  faculty  of 
vision  (to  take  the  same  example)  Avere  wholly  restrained  from 
operation  '?  Now  it  will  not  be  denied,  that  the  repression  of  any 
power  ill  its  natural  tiisus,  —  conatus,  to  action,  is  j)Ositively  painful ; 
and,  tlierefore,  that  the  exertion  of  a  i)Ower,  if  it  aflbrded  only  a 
negation  of  that  positive  pain,  and  were,  in  its  own  nature,  abso- 
lutely indifferent,  would,  by  relation  to  the  pain  from  which  it  yields 
us  a  relief^  appear  to  us  a  real  pleasure.  We  may,  therefore,  I 
think,  maintain,  with  perfect  truth,  that  as  the  holding  back  of  any 
power  from  exercise  is  jiositivily  j)ainful,  so  its  passing  into  energy 
is,  were  it  only  the  removal  of  tliat  painful  repression,  negatively 
pleasurable;  on  this  ground,  conseiiuently,  :nnl  to  this  extent,  we 
may  rightly  hold  with  Plato.  —  that  every  state  of  pleasure  and  free 
energy  is,  in  fact,  the  t-seape  from  an  alternative  state  of  pain  anil 
comjmlsory  inaction. 


588  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XLIil. 

So  far  we  are  warranted  in  going.  But  we  should  be  wrong  were 
we  to  constitute  this  partial  truth  into  an  unlimited,  — an  exclusive 
principle ;  that  is,  were  we  to  maintain  that  the  whole  pleasure  we 

derive  from  the  exercise  of  our  powers,  is  noth- 

The  doctrine  that       j^    ^^^.^  ^^^^^  ^  negation  of  the  pain  we  expe- 

the  whole  pleasure  of  . '^  .1     •      /^         1    •         ^-  rp,  •       t 

actirity  arises  from  "ence  from  their  forced  inertion.  llus  I  say 
the  negation  of  the  would  be  an  erroneous,  because  an  absolute,  con- 
pain  of  forced  iner-       clusion.     For  the  pleasure  we  find  in  the  free 

tion,  —  erroneous.  ,  j-.  r        i.-        •  i.  x-  11 

play  01  our  faculties  is,  as  we  are  most  lully  con- 
scious, far  more  than  simply  a  superseding  of  pain.  That  j)liiloso- 
phy,  indeed,  would  only  ])rovoke  a  smile  which  would  maintain,  that, 
all  pleasure  is  in  itself  only  a  zero,  —  a  notliing,  which  becomes  a 
something  only  by  relation  to  the  reality  of  pain  which  it  annuls. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  that  after  a  compulsory  iner- 
Afier  compulsory  in-       ^.        ^^^^  pleasure,  iu  the  first  exertion  of  our 

ertion,  pleasure  high-  .  ^      n      ^  •    i  i-i. 

er  than  in  ordinary  faculties,  IS  frequently  lar  higher  than  that  which 
circumstances,  —  ex-  we  experience  in  their  ordinary  exercise,  when 
P^"'"^'!-  left  at  libertv.     But  this  does  not,  at  least  does 

not  exclusively,  arise  from  the  contrast  of  the  previous  and  subse- 
quent states  of  pain  and  pleasure,  but  principally  because  the  powers 
are  in  excessive  vigor,  —  at  least  in  excessive  erethism  or  excitation, 
and  have  thus  a  greater  complement  of  intenser  energy  suddenly  to 
expend.  On  the  principle,  therefore,  that  the  degree  of  pleasure  is 
always  in  the  ratio  of  the  degree  of  spontaneous  activity,  the  pleas- 
ure immediately  consequent  on  the  emancipation  of  a  power  from 
thraldom,  would,  if  the  power  remain  uninjured  by  the  constraint,, 
be  naturally  greater,  because  the  energy  would  in  that  case  be,  for  a 
season,  more  intense.  At  the  same  time,  the  state  of  pleasure  would 
in  this  case  appear  to  be  higher  tli.-m  what  it  absolutely  is  ;  because 
it  would  be  set  oft"  by  proximate  contrast  with  a  previous  state  of 
pain.  Thus  it  is  that  a  basin  of  water  of  ordinary  blood  heat,  ap- 
pears hot,  if  we  plunge  in  it  a  hand  which  had  previously  been 
(lip])ed  in  snow;  and  cold,  if  we  immerse  in  it  another  which  had 
previously  been  placed  in  water  of  a  still  higher  temperature.  But 
it  is  unfair  to  apply  this  magnifying  effect  of  contrast  to  the  one 

relative  and  not  to  the  other;  and  any  argument 
Unfair  to  apply  the       ^^^..^^^^^  ^^.^^^  -^  against  the  positive  reality  of 

magnifying    effect     ol  ,.""11  -,•  i 

contrast  to  disprove  J'leasure,  applies  equally  to  disprovc  the  positivc 
the  positive  reality  of  reality  of  pain.  The  true  doctrine  I  hold  to  be 
pleasure  more  than  of      j^j^jg  .  —  ^-j^j^^  p^j^j  ^^^^j  pleasure  are,  as  I  havc 

^'""  said,  each  to  be  considered  both  as  Absolute  and 

as  Relative ;  —  absolute,  that  is,  each  is  something  real,  and  would 
exist  were  the  other  taken  out  of  being ;  relative,  that  is,  each  is  felt. 


i 


Lkct.  XLIII.  metaphysics.  589 

as  greater  or  less  by  immediate  contrast  to  the  other.     I  may  illus- 
trate this  by  the  analogy  of  a  scale.     Let  the 
Pleasure  and  pain       state  of  indifference,  —  that  is,  the  negation  of 

both     Absolute     and         i       i  •  t       i  i  ,      -, 

Keiative.  "^^"^  V^^^  ^"*^  pleasure,  be  marked  as  zero,  let 

the  degrees  of  pain  be  denoted  by  a  descending 
series  of  numbers  below  zero,  and  the  degrees  of  pleasure  by  an 
ascending  series  of  numbers  above  zero.  Now,  suppose  the  degree 
of  pain  we  feel  from  a  certain  state  of  hunger,  to  be  six  below  zero ; 
in  this  case  our  feeling,  in  the  act  of  eating,  will  not  merely  rise  to 
zero,  that  is,  to  the  mere  negation  of  pain,  as  the  Platonic  theory 
holds,  but  to  sorrje  degree  of  positive  pleasure,  say  six.  And  here  I 
may  observe,  that,  were  the  insufficiency  of  the  Platonic  theory 
(shown  by  nothing  else,  this  would  be  done  by  the  absurd  conse- 
quences it  implies,  in  relation  to  the  function  of  nutrition  alone;  for  if 
its  principles  be  true,  then  would  our  gratification  from  the  appease- 
ment of  hunger,  be  equally  great  by  one  kind  of  viand  as  by  another. 
Thus,  then,  the  counter  theories  of  Plato  and  Aristotle  are,  as  I 
have  said,  right  in  what  they  afiirm,  wrong  in 
The  counter tiieorios  what  they  deny;  each  contains  the  truth,  but 
«f  Plato  and  Aristotle       ^^^  ^,^^  ^.,^^j^  ^^.^^^^      3     sui.plving,  therefore, 

tiK- partial  expressions  .  .  ... 

ot  the  true.  ^^  Cither   that   in  which    it   was    defective,   we 

reduce  their  apparent  discord  to  real  harmony, 
and  show  that  they  are  severally  the  partial  expressions  of  a  theory 
which  comprehends  and  consummates  them  both.  But  to  proceed 
in  our  historical  survey. 

Passing  over  a  host  of  commentators  in  the  Lower  Empire,  and 

during  the  middle  ages,   who   were  content  to 

Historical  notices  of    .  .^^  ^|,^  doctrincs  of  AHstotlc  and  Plato;  in 

tin-    theories    of    the  .  ir.  ••ii-i  t 

Pleasurable,  resumed.       ^nodem  timcs,  the  first  original  pliiloso])her  I  am 

aware  of,  who  seems  to  have  turned  his  atten- 
tion upon  the  j)hainomena  of  jiain  and  pleasure,  is  the  celebrated 

Cardan  ;  and  the  result  of  his  observation  was  a 
Cardan,  -  held    a       theo,.y  identical  with  Plato's,  though  of  Plato's 

theory   identical  with  1      •  i  i  11 

j.|jjjjjig  speculation    he    does    not    seem    to    have    been 

aware.  In  the  sixth  chapfer  of  his  very  curious 
autobiography,  J)e  \'ita  Propria  lAher^  he  tells  us,  that  it  was  his 
wont  to  anticii)ate  the  causes  of  disease,  because  lie  was  of  opinion 
that  pleasure  consisted  in  the  appeasement  of  a  preiixistent  pain, 
(quod  arbitrarer,  voluptatem  consistere  in  dolore  jira'cedenti,  sed:.- 
to).  ])Ut  in  the  thirteenth  book  of  his  great  work,  De  Suht'ditate^ 
this  theory  is  formally  j)ro])ouiid('d.  This,  however,  was  not  done 
in  the  earlier  editions  of  the  work;  and,  the  theory  was,  therefore, 
not  canvassed  by  the  ingenuity  of  his  critic,  the  elder  Scaliger, 


500  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLIIl 

whose  Exercitationes  contra  Cardanum  ai'e  totally  silent  on  the 
gubject.  It  is  only  in  the  editions  of  the  De  Subtilitate  of  Cardan, 
subsequent  to  the  yeai-  1560,  that  a  statement  of  the  theory  in  ques- 
tion is  to  be  found.     The  following  is  a  summary  of  his  reasoning: 

—  "All  pleasure  has  its  root  in  a  preceding  2:>ain. 
ummaryo    is  oc-       Thus  it  is  tliat  we  find  pleasure  in  rest  after 

trme.  .  ^ 

hard  labor ;  in  meat  and  drink  after  hunger  and 
thirst ;  in  the  sweet  after  the  bitter ;  in  light  after  darkness ;  in  har- 
mony after  discord.  Such  are  the  facts  in  confirmation  of  this  doc- 
trine, which  simple  experience  affords.  But  philosophy  supplies, 
likewise,  a  reason  from  the  nature  of  things  themselves.  Pleasure 
and  pain  exist  only  as  they  are  states  of  feeling ;  but  feeling  is  a 
change,  and  change  always  proceeds  from  one  contrary  to  another; 
consequently,  either  from  the  good  to  the  bad,  or  from  the  bad  to 
the  good.  The  former  of  these  alternatives  is  painful,  and,  there- 
fore, the  other,  when  it  takes  its  place,  is  pleasing ;  a  state  of  pain 
must  thus  always  precede  a  state  of  pleasure."  Such  are  the  grounds 
on  which  Cardan  tlrinks  himself  entitled  to  reject  the  Aristotelic 
theory  of  pleasure,  and  to  substitute  in  its  place  the  Platonic.  It 
does  not,  however,  appear  from  anything  he  says,  that  he  was  aware 
of  the  relative  speculations  of  these  two  philosophers. 

But  the  reasoning  of  Cardan  is  incompetent :  for  if  it  proves  any- 
thing, it  proves  too  much,  seeing  that  it  would 

•    His  theory  criticized.  n  ^^  n  • 

follow  from  his  premises,  that  a  pleasurable  feel- 
ing cannot  gradually,  continually,  uninterruptedly,  rise  in  intensity; 
for  i;t  behooves  that  every  new  degree  of  pleasure  should  be  sepa- 
rated from  the  preceding  by  an  intermediate  state  of  higher  pain; 
a  conclusion  which  is  contradicted  by  the  most  ordinary  and  mani- 
fest experience.  This  theory  remained,  therefore,  in  Cardan's  as  in 
Plato's  hands,  destitute  of  the  necessary  proof 

The  same  doctrine  —  that  pleasure  is  only  the  alternation  and 

consequent  of  pain  —  was  adopted,  likewise,  by 

.  ontaigne,-  le    a       Montaii^ne.     In  the  famous  twelfth  chapter  of 

■iimilar  doctrine.  ^  _  * 

the  second  book  of  his  Essays^  he  says :  —  "Our 
states  of  pleasure  are  only  the  privation  of  our  states  of  pain;"  but 
this  universal  inference  he,  like  his  jiredecessors,  deduces  only  from 
the  special  phasnomena  given  in  certain  of  the  senses. 

The  philosopher  next  in  order  is  Descartes;^  and  his  opinion  is 

1  Before  Descartes,  Vives  held  a    positive  tionis  ratione  aliqua  inter  facultatem  et  ob- 

theory  of  the  i)Ieasurable     His  definition  of  jectum,  ut  qusedam  sit  quasi  similitude  inter 

pleasure  and  it;*  illustration,  are  worthy  of  a  ilia:  turn  ne  notabiliter  sit  majus,  quod  adfert 

passing  notice:'- Delectatio  sita  est  in  congru-  delectationem  ;  nee  notabiliter  minus,  quam 

eotia,  quam  iuvenire  non    est  sine  propor-  ea  vis  quae  recipit  voluptatem,  ea  utique  part« 


Lect.  XLIII.  METAPHYSICS.  591 

deserving  of  attention,  not  so   much  from  its  intrinsic  value,    as 
Descartes  ^"^^'^  ^^®  influence   it   has   exerted   ujion  those 

who  have  subsequently  speculated  upon  tlie 
causes  of  pleasure.  These  philosophers  seem  to  have  been  totally 
ignorant  of  the  far  profounder  theories  of  the  ancients;  and  while 
the  regular  discussions  of  the  subject  by  Aristotle  and  Plato  were, 
for  our  modern  psychologists,  as  if  they  had  never  been,  the  inci- 
dental allusion  to  the  matter  by  Descartes,  originated  a  series  of 
speculations  which  is  still  in  progress. 

Descartes'  philosophy  of  the  pleasurable  is  promulgated  in  one 

short  sentence  of  the  sixth  letter  of  the  First 
pleasurable  Part  of  his  EplstUs,  which  is  addressed  to  the 

Princess  Elizabeth.  It  is  as  follows  :  —  **  All 
our  pleasure  is  nothing  more  than  the  consciousness  of  some  one  or 
other  of  our  perfections." —  ("Tota  nostra  voluptas  posita  est  tan- 
tum  in  perfectionis  alicujus  nostra  conscientia.")  It  is  curious  to 
hear  the  praises  that  have  been  lavished  upon  this  definition  of  the 

pleasurable.     It  has  been  lauded  for  its  novelty ; 
roun   essy  au  e         j^  j^^^  been  lauded  for  its  importance.      "Des- 

for  its  novelty  and  im-  _        '_ 

portance.  cartes,"  says  Mendelssohn  in  liis  J^etters  on  the 

Setisations  {Jiriefe  iiber  die  Empfindungeii)y 
"  was  the  first  who  made  the  attempt  to  give  a  real  erpJanation  of 
the  pleasurable."  '  The  celebrated  Kaestner  thus  opens  his  Reflex- 
ions sur  VOrigine  du  Plaisir.-  —  "I  shall  not  pretend  decidedly  to 
assert  that  no  one  before  Descartes  has  said,  that  pleasure  consisted 
in  the  feeling  of  some  one  of  our  perfections.  I  confess,  however, 
that  I  have  not  found  this  definition  in  any  of  the  dissertations,  some- 
times tiresome,  and  frequently  uninstructive,  of  the  ancient  philoso- 
phers on  the  nature  and  effects  of  pleasure.  I  am,  therefore,  disposed 
to  attribute  a  discovery  which  has  occasioned  so  many  controversies, 
to  that  felicitous  genius,  which  has  disencumbered  mctajdiysics  of 
the  confused  chaos  of  disjjutes,  as  unintelligible  as  vain,  in  order  to 
render  it  the  solid  and  instructive  science  of  God  and  of  the  human 
soul."  And  JNI.  Beitrand,  another  very  intelligent  i)hilosopher,  in 
his  Essai  sur  le  J^laisir^  says,  "Descartes  is  })robably  the  first  who 
has  enounced,  that  all  pleasure  consists  hi  the  inward  feeliug  ww 


quarecipitur.     Ideo  inedlocrisi  Inx  pratior  est  appended  to  flie  NouvtUe  Thcorie  drs  PInisirs, 

oculis,  <|uan>  iiigcns:  ct  (iubob.-cura  pratiora  par  M    .S'H/crr  (1707)      Tliu  .Xoiinllr  Tiironr  in  m 

sunt    hebefj   visui;    euiulem    in    modum    de  French  version   of  Siiber's  tronti.-c.  Vnttrsu- 

«oni8."     De  Anima,  1.  iii  p.  202,  edit  1556.  —  ckung  ttfcfr  dm  Vrsjming  drr  angrnrhmm   und 

Ed.  unangfnehmen   Entft/mdungen.     See  above,  p. 

1  Anmerkung,  6.  —  Ed.  410  —Ed. 

•  The  Rfflexions  sur  I  Origint  du  Plaisxr,  is  3  Sect.  i.  cb  i.  p.  3.    Neuchatel.  17T7  —  Ki>. 


V 


592  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XLIII. 

liave  of  some  of  our  perfections,  ami,  in  these  few  words,  he  has 
unfolded  a  series  of  great  truths." 

Now  what  is  the  originality,  what  is  the  importance,  of  this  cele- 
brated definition?     This  is  easily  answered, — 

The  ckjcfrinr  of  Des-         j^^  g^  f^^  ^^  -^  j^gg  ^ny  meaning,  it  is  only  a  state- 
cartes,  a  vague  vewion  .  T  ,     ,  £•  4.-U^    +^.,  +  1, 

, ..  '    „  "    .  .,  ment,  in  vague  and  general  terms,  ot  the  truth 

of  that  of  Aristotle  i  o  o 

which  Aristotle  had  promulgated,  in  precise  and 
proximate  expressions.  Descartes  says,  that  pleasure  is  the  con- 
sciousness of  one  or  other  of  our  perfections.  This  is  not  false; 
but  it  is  not  instructive.  We  are  not  conscious  of  any  perfection 
of  our  nature,  except  in  so  far  as  this  is  the  perfection  of  one  or 
other  of  our  powers ;  and  we  are  not  conscious  of  a  power  at  all, 
far  less  of  its  perfection,  except  in  so  far  as  we  are  conscious  of  its 
•oi)cration.  It,  therefore,  behooved  Descartes  to  have  brought  down 
his  definition  of  jileasure  from  the  vague  generality  of  a  conscious- 
ness of  perfection,  to  the  precise  and  proximate  declaration,  that 
pleasure  is  a  consciousness  of  the  perfect  energy  of  a  power.  But 
this  improvement  of  his  definition  would  have  stripped  it  of  all  nov- 
elty. It  would  then  have  appeared  to  be,  what  it  truly  is,  only  a 
version,  and  an  inadequate  version,  of  Aristotle's.  These  are  not 
the  only  objections  that  could  be  taken  to  the  Cartesian  definition ; 
but  for  our  present  purpose  it  would  be  idle  to  advance  them. 

Leibnitz  is  the  next  philosopher  to  whose  opinion  I  shall  refer; 
and  this  you  will  find  stated  in  his  JVouveaux 

Leibnitz, -adopted        -Essais,^    and    Other   works    latterly    published. 

both  the  counter  theo-         ^  •,        -r^  i         i    r-  i  ^i        ^     v 

Like  Descartes,  he  defines  pleasure  the  feeling 


ries. 


of  a  perfection,  pain  the  feeling  of  an  imperfec- 
tion ;  and,  in  another  part  of  the  work,-  he  adopts  the  Platonic  the- 
ory, that  all  pleasure  is  grounded  in  pain,  Avhich  he  ingeniously  con- 
nects with  his  own  doctrine  of  latent  modifications,  or,  as  he  calls 
them,  obscure  perceptions.  As  this  work,  however,  was  not  pub- 
lished till  long  after  not  only  his  own  death,  but  that  of  his  great 
disciple  Wolf,  the  indication  (for  it  is  nothing  more)  of  his  opinion 
on  this  point  had  little  influence  on  subsequent  speculations  ;  indeed 
I  do  not  remember  to  have  seen  the  doctrine  of  Leibnitz  upon 
pleasure  ever  alluded  to  by  any  of  his  countrymen. 

Wolf,  with  whose  doctrine  that  of  Baumgarten''  nearly  coincides, 

defines  pleasure,  the  intuitive  cognition  (that  is. 

Wolf  .... 

in  our  language,  the  perception  or  imagination) 
of  any  perfection  whatever,  either  true  or  apparent.  —  "Voluptas 

1  Lib.  ii.  ch.  xxi.  i  41.  Opera,  ed.  Erdmann,         3  See  his  Metaphysik,  J  482  et  seq  ,  p.  233,  edit- 
p.  261.  —  Ed.  1V83.      Cf  Platner,  Phil.  Aphorismen,  ii.  }  365, 

2  Lib.  ii.  ch.  xx    §  6.  Opera,  ed.  Erdmann,      p  218. —Ed. 
p.  248- -Ed 


Lfxt.  xliii.  metaphysics.  593 

est   intuitu^,  sen  cognitio   intuitiva,   jiei-fectionis  cujuscunque,  sive 
verse  sive  apparentis." '     His  doctrine  you  will  find  detailed  in  his 

Psychologia  J£rnpirica^  and  in  liis  Ilorm  Suhse- 

His    doctrine    criti-  .  x^  -x*     xi  .    ^i.         is?       •  i      ^    ^l 

.    ,  civce.     It  was  manitestly  the  onspnnij,  but  the 

degenerate  offspring,  of  the  doctrine  of  Descar- 
tes, which,  as  we  have  seen,  was  itself  only  a  corruption  of  that  of 
Aristotle.  Descartes  riglitly  considered  pleasure  as  a  quality  of  the 
subject,  in  defining  it  a  consciousness  of  some  perfection  in  ourselves. 

Wolf,  on  the  contrary,  wrongly  considers  pleas- 
1.  Wrongly  considers       m-g  more  as  an  attribute  of  the  object,  in  defin- 

pleasure  as   an    attri-         ...  •^-  j}  c     ^-  i     ^ 

^  ^     ^.  ins  it  a  coOTition  of  any  perfection  whatever. 

butc  of  the  object.  =>  ~  _  "^    '■ 

Now  in  their  definitions  of  pleasure,  as  Descar- 
tes was  inferior  to  Aristotle,  so  Wolf  falls  far  below  Descartes,  and 
in  the  same  quality,  —  in  want  of  precision  and  proximity. 

Pleasure  is  a  feeling,  and  a  feeling  is  a  merely  subjective  state, 
that  is,  a  state  which  has  no  reference  to  anything  beyond  itself, — 
which  exists  only  as  we  are  conscious  of  its  existence.  Now,  then, 
the  perfection  or  imperfection  of  an  object,  considered  in  itself,  and 
as  out  of  relation  to  our  subjective  states,  is  thought  —  is  judged, 
but  is  not  felt ;  and  this  judgment  is  not  pleasure  or  ))ain,  but  appro- 
bation or  disapprobation,  that  is,  an  act  of  the  cognitive  faculties, 
but  not  an  affection  of  the  capacities  of  feeling.  In  this  ])oint  of 
view,  therefore,' the  definition  of  pleasure,  as  the  cognition  of  any 
sort  of  perfection,  is  eiToneous.  It  may,  indeed,  be  true  that  the 
perfection  of  an  object  can  determine  the  cognitive  faculty  to  a  ])er- 
fect  energy;  and  the  concomitant  of  this  perfect  energy  will  be  a 
feeling  of  pleasure.  But,  in  this  case,  the  objective  perfection,  as 
cognized,  is  not  itself  the  pleasure ;  but  the  ])leasure  is  the  feeling 
which  we  have  of  the  perfection,  that  is,  of  the  state  of  vigorous 
and  unimpeded  energy  of  the  cognitive  faculty,  as  exercised  on  that 
perfection.  Wolf  ought,  therefore,  to  have  limited  his  definition, 
like  Descartes,  to  the  consciousness  of  subjective  pei-fection ;  as 
Descartes  should  have  explicated  his  consciousness  of  subjective 
perfection  into  the  consciousness  of  full,  spontaneous  and  unim- 
peded activity. 

But  there  is  another  defect  in  the  WoHian  definition:  —  it  limits 
the  pleasures  from  the  cognition  of  perfection  to  the  Intuitive  T^icul- 
ties,  that  is,  to  Sense  and  Imagination,  denying  it  to  the  Under- 
standing, —  the  faculty  of  relations,  —  Thought  Proper.  This  part 
of  his  theory  was,  accordingly,  assailed  by  Moses  Mendelssohn,  — 
one  of  the  best  writers  and  most  ingenious  jdiilosophers  of  tlie  last 

I  Pstjchologia  Empinca,  ^  511,  where  he  expressly  refers  to  Descartes  a«  the  author  ot  the 
detiDition.  —  Ed. 

75 


594  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLIII. 

century,  —  who,  in  other  respects,  however,  remained  faithful  to  the 

objective    point   of   view,   from  whence  Wolf 
2.  Limits  pleasure  to       ^^^  contemplated  the  phaenomenon  of  i)leasure. 

the  coguition  of  per-  '■  '■ 

fection  by  the  intui-  This  was  done    in    his  Mriefe    iiber  die  Emp- 

tive  Faculties.  Jtucluugen^   1755.^      A   reaction  was,    however, 

This  part  of  Wolf's  inevitable  ;    and    other    German    philosophers 

doctrine   assailed  by  ^^^.^  ^^^^^  found  who  returned  to  the  subjec- 

Mendelssohn.  .  . 

tive  point  of  view  from  which  Woli,  Joaumgar- 
ten,  and  Mendelssohn  had  departed. 

But  before  passing  to  these,  it  would  be  improper  to  overlook  the 

doctrine  of  two  French  philosophers,  who  had 

Du  Bos  and  Pouiiiy,       already  explained  pleasure  in  its  subjective  as- 

-  considered  pleasure  ^^  ^^^  ^,j^^  prepared  the  Way  for  the  pro- 

in    its    subjective    as-         ■%  .  ^  ,  ^ 

,  founder  theories  oi  the  German  speculators,  —  1 

mean  Du  Bos  and  Pouilly.  As  their  doctrines 
nearly  coincide,  I  shall  consider  them  as  one.  The  former  treats  of 
this  subject  in  his  Reflexions  Critiques  sur  la  Peiiiture^  etc.;  the 
latter  in  his  Theorie  des  Sentimens  Agreables.^  The  following  are 
the  principal  momenta  of  their  inquiries  : 

"  1.  Considering  pleasure  only  in  relation  to  the  subject,  the  ques- 
tion they  propose  to  answer  is.  What  takes  place 
eorysae  .       ^^  ^^^^  state  which  wc  Call  pleasurable? 

"  2.  The  gratification  of  a  want  causes  pleasure.  If  the  want  be 
natural,  the  result  is  a  natural  pleasure,  and  an  unnatural  pleasure  if 
the  want  be  unnatural. 

"3.  The  fundamental  want  —  the  want  to  which  all  others  may 
be  reduced — is  the  occuj)atio.!  of  the  mind.  All  that  we  know  of 
the  mind  is  that  it  is  a  thinking,  a  knowing  power.  We  desire  ob- 
jects only  for  the  sake  of  intellectual  occupation. 

"  The  activity  of  mind  is  either  occupied  or  occupies  itself.     The-, 
matters  which  afford  the  objects  of  our  faculties  of  knowledge  are 
either  sensible  impressions,  which  are  delivered  over  to  the  under- 
standing —  this  is  the  case  in  perception  of  sense ;  or  this  matter 


1  See  Aumerkung,  6;  and  Reinhold,  iJber  die  cipe,  first  appeared  in  1746.    This  work,  along 

hiskerigen   Be^ifff  vom    Vcrgnitsfn,   §  2.     Ver-  with  two  relative  treatises,  was  republished 

mischte  Schri/ten  i.  p   281  et  seq.  —  Ed.  in  1774,  under  the  title  of  Principes  de  la  Littrr- 

i  See  torn.  p.  i.  §^  1,2.    First  published  in  ature.    All  these  authors  consider  pleasure, 

1719,  Paris. — Eu.  more  or  less,  from  the  subjective  point  of 

3  See  ohaps.  i   iii.  iv.  v.     First  published  in  view,  and  are,  in  principle,  Aristotelic      For 

1743     To  these  should  be  added  the  valuable  a  collection  of  treatises,  in  whole  and  part, 

treatise  of  the  Pere  Andre, — the  Essai  sur  le  on  pleasure  in   its  psychological  and  moral 

JSfau,  which  was  first  published  in  1741.  There  aspects,  .^^ee  Le   Temple  du  Bonhevr  ou  Recueil 

is  also,  previously  to  Sulzer,  another  French  dts  i-lus  Excellens  Traitcs  sur  le  Bonheur;   in  4 

xsthetical  writer  of  merit, —  Batteux,  whose  vote.    New  edition,  1770. — Ed. 
treatise,  Les  Beaux  Arts  reduxis  a  un  meme  Prin- 


Lect.  XLIII.  METAPHYSICS.  595 

is  furnished  by  the  cognitive  faculty  itself — as  is  the  case  in  think- 


ing. 


"5.  If  this  activity  meets  with  impediments  in  its  prosecution, 
—  be  this  in  the  functions  eitlier  of  thouglit  or  sense,  —  there  re- 
sults a  feeling  of  I'estraiut ;  and  this  of  two  kinds,  positive  and  neg- 
ative. 

"  6.  When  the  activity,  Avhether  in  perception  or  thinking,  is  pre- 
vented from  being  brouglit  to  its  conclusion,  there  emerges  the  feel- 
ing of  straining,  —  of  effort,  —  the  feeling  of  positive  limitation  of 
our  powers.     This  is  painful. 

"7.  If  the  mind  be  occupied  less  than  usual  in  all  its  functions, 
there  arises  a  feeling  of  unsatisfied  want  ;  this  constitutes  that 
state  of  negative  restraint,  —  the  state  of  ennui,  of  tedium.  This  is 
jjainlul. 

"  8.  The  stronger  and  at  the  same  time  the  easier  the  activity  of 
mind  in  any  of  its  functions,  the  more  agreeable.'" 

This  theory  is  evidently  only  that  of  Aristotle ;  to  whom,  how- 
ever, the  French  philosophers  make  no  allusion.  "What  they  call 
occupation  or  exercise,  he  calls  energy.  The  former  expressions  are, 
perhaps,  preferable  on  this  account,  that  they  apply  equally  well  to 
the  mental  processes,  whether  active  or  passive,  whereas  the  terms 
energy,  act,  activity,  operation,  etc.,  only  proi)erly  denote  these  pro- 
cesses as  they  are  considered  in  the  former  character. 

Subsequently  to  the  French  philosophers,  and  as  a  reaction  against 
the  partial  views  of  the  school  of  Wolf,  there 

Sulzer,  — Ins  theory  appeared  the  theory  of  Sulzer,  the  Academifian 
a  reaction  against  the  r>   t>      i-  i  i  •    i  /•  i 

,.,,,,-,  01   Ijerhn,  —  a  theory  which  was   nrst   ])roniul- 

views  of  Wolf.  '  ''  I 

gated  in  his  K)i(piiry  into  the  Origin  of  our 
Agreeable  and  Disagreeahle  Feelings,^  in  1752.  This  is  one  of  the 
ablest  discussions  upon  the  question,  and  though  partial,  like  the 
others,  it  concurs  in  establisliing  the  truth  of  that  doctrine  of  which 
Aristotle  has  left,  in  a  short  comj)ass,  the  most  complete  and  satisfac- 
tory exposition.  The  following  are  the  leading  principles  of  Sulzer's 
theory  : 

"1.  We  must  penetrate  to  the  essence  of  the  soul,  if  we  would 
discover  the  })rimary  source  of  pleasure. 

"2.  The  essence  of  the  soul  consists  in  its  natural  activity,  and 
this  activity  again  consists  in  the  production  of  ideas."  [By  that 
he  means  the  faculty  in  general  of  Cognition  or  Thought.     I  may 

1  Abridged  from  Reiuhold,  Uber  die  hish-  lishod  in  the  Memoirs  of  flie  Uoval  Academy 
trigtn  B'gritre  vom  Vergmlgen,  I)  1.  Verm,  of  Berlin  for  the  years  1751,  175'i.  Sec  Verm. 
Schrijt  p  275  —Kd.  Phil.  Sckrijien,  vol.  i  p   i  ,  1773.     See   abort, 

2  Vntersuehung  xiher  ilfn  Ur.tprung  der  angeneh.  p.  660.  —  Ku. 
fruit  und  unan^cnefiiiien  Empjindun^en.     V\x\>- 


590  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  Xhllt 

here    observe,  by  the  way,  that   ho   adopts   the    opinion  that  the 

flieulty  of  thouglit  or  cognition  is  the  one  funda- 
eorysae  .  mental  power  of  mind;  and  in  this  he  coincides 
with  Wolf,  whose  theory  of  pleasure,  however,  he  rejects.] 

"3.  In  this  essential  tendency  to  activity  are  grounded  all  our 
pleasurable  and  painful  feelings. 

"  4.  If  this  natural  activity  of  the  soul,  or  this  ceaseless  tendency 
to  think,  encounters  an  impediment,  i)ain  is  the  result;  whereas  if  it 
be  excited  to  a  lively  activity,  the  result  is  pleasure. 

"  5.  There  are  two  conditions  which  regulate  the  degree  of  capac- 
ity and  incapacity  in  the  soul  for  ])leasurable  and  painful  feelings, 
the  habitude  of  reflection,  and  the  natural  vivacity  of  thought ;  and 
both  together  constitute  the  perfect  activity  of  mind. 

"  6.  Pleasurable  feelings,  consequently,  can  only  be  excited  by 
objects  which  at  once  comprise  a  variety  of  constituent  qualities  or 
characters,  and  in  which  these  characters  are  so  connected  that  the 
mind  recognizes  in  them  materials  for  its  essential  activity.  An 
object  which  presents  to  the  mental  activity  no  exercise,  remains 
altogether  indifferent. 

"  7.  No  object  which  moves  the  mind  in  a  pleasurable  or  in  a  pain- 
ful manner  is  simple  ;^  it  is  necessarily  composite  or  multiplex.  The 
difference  between  agreeable  and  disagreeable  objects  can  only  lie 
in  the  connection  of  the  parts  of  this  multiplicity.  Is  there  order 
in  this  connection,  the  object  is  agreeable ;  is  there  disorder,  it  is 
painful. 

"8.  Beauty  is  the  manifold,  the  various,  recalled  to  unity.  The 
mere  multitude  of  parts  does  not  constitute  an  object  beautiful ;  for 
there  is  required  that  an  object  should  have  at  once  such  multiplic- 
ity and  connection  as  to  form  a  whole. 

"  9.  This  is  the  case  in  intellectual  beauty ;  that  is,  in  the  beauty 
of  those  objects  which  the  understanding  contemplates  in  distinct 
notions.  The  beauty  of  geometrical  theorems,  of  algebraic  formulae, 
of  scientific  principles,  of  comprehensive  systems,  consists,  no  less 
than  the  beauty  of  objects  of  Imagination  and  Sense,  in  the  unity  of 
the  manifold,  and  rises  in  proportion  to  the  quantity  of  the  multi- 
plicity and  the  unity. 

"10.  All  these  objects  present  a  multitude  of  constituent  charac- 
ters, —  of  elementary  ideas,  at  once  ;  and  these  are  so  connected,  so 
hound  together  by  a  principle  of  unity,  that  the  mind  is,  in  conse- 
quence thereof,  enabled  to  unfold  and  then  to  bring  back  the  differ- 
ent parts  to  a  common  centre,  that  is,  reduce  them  to  unity,  —  to 
totality,  —  to  system. 

1  [But  see  Tiedemann's  Psyckologie,  p.  152.] 


Lect.  XLllI.  METAPHYSICS.  597 

"11.  From  this  it  is  evident,  that  the  Beautiful  only  causes  j)leas- 
ure  through  the  principle  of  activity.  Unity,  multiplicity,  corre- 
spondence of  parts,  render  an  object  agreeable  to  us,  only  inasmuch 
as  they  stand  in  a  favorable  relation  to  the  active  power  cf  the 
mind. 

"  12.  The  relation  in  which  beauty  stands  to  the  mind  is  thus  nec- 
essary, and,  consequently,  immutable.  A  single  condition  is  alone 
required  in  order  that  what  is  in  itself  beautiful  should  operate  on 
us  ;  it  is  necessary  that  we  should  know  it ;  and  to  know,  it  is  nec- 
essary that,  to  a  certain  extent,  we  be  conversant  with  the  kind  to 
which  it  belongs;  for  otherwise  we  should  not  be  competent  to 
appi-ehend  the  beauty  of  an  object.  (!) 

"  13.  A  difference  of  taste  is  found  only  among  the  ignorant  or 
the  half-learned;  and  taste  is  a  necessary  consequence  of  knowl- 
edge."' 

I  shall  not  jjursue  this  theory  to  the  explanation  it  attempts  of 
the  pleasures  of  the  Senses  and  of  the  Moral  Powers,  in  which  it  is 
far  less  successful  than  in  those  of  the  Intellect.  This  was  to  be 
expected  in  consequence  of  the  o!ie-sided  view  Sulzer  had  taken 
of  the  mental  pha^nomena,  in  assuming  the  Cognitive  Faculty  as 
the  elementary  ])ower  out  of  which  the  Feelings  and  Conations  are 
evolved.^ 

The  theory  of  Sulzer  is  manifestly  only  a  one-sided  moditieation 

of  the  Aristotelic;  but  it  does  not  appear  that 

The  theory  of  sui/er       ^^^  ^^..^^  himself  aware  how  completelv  he   had 

criticized.  .    .  •   •  /^' 

been  anticipated  by  the  Stajrinte.  "  On  the  con- 
trary, he  once  and  again  denominates  his  explanation  of  the  pleasur- 
able a  discovery.  This  can,  however,  hardly  oe  allowed  him,  even 
were  the  Aristotelic  theory  out  of  the  question  ;  for  it  required  no 
mighty  ingenuity  for  a  ])hiloso])her  who  was  well  accpiainted  with 
the  works  of  his  immediate  predecessors,  in  France  and  Germany, 
by  whom  ])leasure  had  been  explained  as  the  vigorous  and  easy 
exercise  of  the  faculties,  —  as  the  feeling  of  perfection  in  ourselves, 
and  as  the  ap|)rehensiou  of  perfection  in  other  things,  that  is,  tlieir 
unity  in  variety:  —  I  say,  after  these  opinions  of  his  precursors,  it 
required  no  such  uncommon  effort  of  invention  to  hit  upon  the 
thought,  —  that  j)leasure  is  determined  when  the  variety  in  the 
object  calls  forth  the  activity  of  the  subject,  and  when  this  activity 
is  rendered  easy  by  the  unity  in  which  tlie  variety  is  contained. 
His  explanation  is  more  explicit,  but,  except  a  diange  of  expression, 

1  See  Keinhold  [  f/Vr  r/if  bi.thfrig:en   Bfgriffe         2  For  Suljfr's  doctrines  on  the^e  points  ««• 
vom    Vergnilgen,  ^  3.      Vtrm.   Schrift.  p.  296  ««       Keinhold,  mj  »tjv>/»-,  p.  3t)l  cJ  «?.  —  tl>. 
iitq.  —  Ed. 


598  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLIII. 

it  is  not  easy  to  see  what  Sulzer  added  to  Du  Bos  and  Pouilly,  to 
say  nothing  of  Wolf  and  Mendelssohn." 

"  The  theory  of  Sulzei-  is  snmmed  nj)  in  tlie  following  resnlt :  — 
Every  variety  of  pleasure  may,  subjectively  con- 
.  ummary  o     e    e-       gi^ered,  be  carried  into  the  prompt  and  vigorous 
activity  of  the  cognitive   faculty ;    and,  objec- 
tively considered,  be  explained  as  the  product  of  objects  which,  in 
consequence  of  their  variety  in  unity,  intensely  occupy  the  mind 
without  fatiguing  it.     The  peculiar  merit  of  the  theory  of  Sulzer,  in 

contrast  to  those  of  his  immediate  predecessors, 
is  that  it  combines  both  the  subjective  and  ob- 
jective points  of  view.     In  tiiis  respect,  it  is  favorably  contrasted 
with  the  opinion  of  Wolf  and  Mendelssohn.     But  it  takes  a  one- 
sided view  of  the  character  of  the  subject.     In 

Its  defect. 

the  first  place,  the  essence  of  the  mind  in  gen- 
eral, and  the  essence  of  the  cognitive  faculty  in  particular,  does  not 
consist  of  activity  exclusively,  but  of  activity  and  receptivity  in  cor- 
relation. But  receptivity  is  a  passive  power,  not  an  active,  and  thus 
the  theory  in  its  fundamental  position  is  only  half  true.  This  one- 
sided view  by  Sulzer,  in  Avhich  regard  is  had  to  the  active  or  intel- 
lectual element  of  our  constitution  to  the  exclusion  of  the  passive  or 
sensual,  is  precisely  the  ojiposite  to  that  other,  and  equally  one-sided, 
view  which  was  taken  by  Helvetius  ^  and  the  modern  Ej)icureans 
and  Materialists ;  but  their  theory  of  the  pleasurable  may  be  passed 
over  as  altogether  without  philosophical  importance.  In  the  second 
place,  it  is  erroneous  to  assert  that  pleasure  is  nothing  else  than  the 
consciousness  of  the  unimpeded  activity  of  mind.  The  activity 
of  mind  is  manifested  principally  in  thinking,  whereas  the  state  of 
pleasure  consists  wholly  of  a  consciousness  of  feeling.  In  the  enjoy- 
ment of  pleasure  we  do  not  think,  but  feel ;  and  in  an  intenser 
enjoyment  there  is  almost  a  suspension  of  thought." - 

It  is  not  necessary  to  say  much  of  the  speculations  upon  pleasure 
subsequent  to   Sulzer,  and  prior  to  Kant.      In 

Genovesi  aud  Verii         J^.j]^^,^    J   flj^j    ^1,.^^.    ^^^^    plulosophcrs   of  the    last 
adopted  the    Platonic  '  ,      ,        -i       .     -,      ^        -r»i  •  •    • 

^^g^j..  century  had  adopted  the  Flatonic  opmion, — 

of  pleasure  being  always  an  escape  from  pain, 

—  Genovesi  and  Verri;  the  former  in  a  chapter  of  his  3fetaphysics,'^ 
the  latter  in  a  chapter  of  his  Dissertation  on  the  Nature  of  Pleas- 
ure and  Pain}     This  opinion,  however,  reacquires  importance  from 

1  De  r Esprit,  disc.  i.  ch.  i.  Cf.   De  I'Homme,  <  Discorso  siiir  Indole  del  Piacere,  e  del  Dolore, 
•ect.  ii   ch.  x.  —  Ed.  §§  iii.  iv.     Opfre  Filoxofidir,  i   j).  20  et  seg.,  edit. 

2  See  Reinhold,  as  above,  pp.  308,  315,  317.  1784.    This  treati,se  is  translated  into  German 

—  Ed.  by   Meiners,  —  Gedanken    Vtber    die    NaXur    de* 
*  Cap.  vi.  t.  ii.  p.  213,  edit.  1753.  —  Ed.  VergnH^ens.    Leipsic,  1777.  —  Ed. 


I 


Lect.  XLIIl.  METAPHYSICS.  599 

having  been  adopted  from  Verri  by  the  philosopher  of  Konisberg. 

In  his  Manual  of  Anthropology^  Kant  bricHv 

Kant    adontefl    the  ,  n        ,    ,        i  •      i  •  i  •  •      ' 

_,  .    ...  and  generally  States  his  doctrine  on  this  iioint: 

Platouic  theory.  .  . 

but  in  the  notes  which  have  been  recently 
printed  of  his  Lectures  on  this  subject,  we  have  a  more  detailed 
view  of  the  character  and  grounds  of  his  opinion.  The  Kantian 
4octrine  is  as  follows  : 

"  Pleasure  is  the  feeling  of  the  furtherance   [JBeforderimg),  pain 

of  the  hindrance  of  life.     Under  ])leasur6  is  not 

His  doctrine  stated.  ,  l         ^        i    ^i       r     t  c  ^^ c        r       • 

to  be  understood  the  feeling  of  lite  ;  for  in  pain 
we  feel  life  no  less  than  in  pleasure,  nay,  even  perhaps  more  strongly. 
In  a  state  of  pain,  life  appears  long,  in  a  state  of  j)leasure,  it  seems 
brief;  it  is  only,  therefore,  the  feeling  of  promotion,  —  the  further- 
ance, of  life,  which  constitutes  ])leasure.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is 
not  the  mere  hindrance  of  life  which  constitutes  pain  ;  the  hin- 
drance must  not  only  exist,  it  must  be  felt  to  exist."  (Before  pro- 
ceeding further,  I  may  observe,  that  these  definitions  of  pleasure 
and  ])aiii  are  virtually  identical  Avith  those  of  Aristotle,  only  far 
less  clear  and  explicit.) 

But  to  proceed:  "If  jileasure  be  a  feeling  of  the  promotion  of  life, 
this  presup))oses  a  hindrance  of  life;  for  there  can  be  no  promotion, 
if  there  be  no  foregoing  hindrance  to  overcome.  Since,  therefore, 
the  hindrance  of  life  is  pain,  pleasure  must  presuppose  pain 

"If  we  intend  our  vital  powers  above  their  ordinary  degree,  in 
order  to  go  out  of  the  state  of  inditlerence  or  ecpiality,  we  induce 
an  opj)osite  state ;  and  when  we  intend  the  vital  powers  above  the 
suitable  degree  we  occnsion  a  liindrance,  a  pain.  The  vital  force 
has  a  degree  along  with  which  a  state  exists,  which  is  one  neither 
of  pleasure  nor  of  pain,  but  of  content,  of  comfort  {dan  WoJtlhe- 
finden).  When  this  state  is  reduced  to  a  lower  )>itch  by  any  hin- 
drance, then,  a  promotion,  a  furtherance  of  life  is  useful  in  order  to 
overcome  this  impediment.  Pleasure  is  thus  always  a  consequent 
of  pain.  Wlu'n  we  cast  our  eyes  on  the  progress  of  tiling;?,  we  dis- 
cover in  ourselves  a  ceaseless  tendency  to  escape  from  our  jiresent 
state.  To  this  we  are  compelle<l  by  a  physical  stimulus,  which  sets 
animals,  and  man,  as  an  animal,  into  activity.  ]^ut  in  the  intellect- 
ual nature  of  man,  there  is  also  a  stimulus,  which  operates  to  tlie 
same  end.  In  thought,  man  is  always  dissatisfied  with  the  actual; 
he  is  ever  looking  forward  from  the  present  to  the  future ;  he  is 
incessantly  in  a  state  of  transition  from  one  state  to  another,  ami  is 
unable  to  continue  in  the  same.  But  what  is  it  that  thus  constrains 
us  to  be  always  passing  from  one  state  to  another,  but  pain?  And 
that  it  is  not  a  pleasure  which  entices  us  to  this,  but  a  kind  of  dis 


600  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLIII 

content  with  present  suffering,  is  shown  by  the  fact  that  we  are 
always  seeking  for  some  object  of  pleasure,  without  knowing  what 
that  object  is,  merely  as  an  aid  against  the  disquiet,  —  against  the 
complement  of  petty  pains,  which  in  the  moment  irritate  and  annoy 
us.     It  is  thus  apparent  that  man  is  urged  on  by  a  necessity  of 
his  nature  to  go  out  of  the  present  as  a  state  of  pain,  in  order  to 
find  in  the  future  one  less  irksome.     Man  thus  finds  himself  in  a 
never-ceasing  ])ain  ;  and  this  is  the  spur  for  the  activity  of  human 
nature.     Our  lot  is  so  cast  that  there  is  nothing  enduring  for  us  but. 
pain ;  some  indeed  have  less,  others  more,  but  all,  at  all  times,  have 
their  share ;  and  our  enjoyments  at  best  are  only  slight  alleviations 
of  pain.     Pleasure  is  nothing  positive ;  it  is  only  a  liberation  of 
pain,  and,  therefore,  only  something  negative.      Hence  it  follows,^ 
that  we  never  begin  with  pleasure  but  always  with  pain  ;  for  while 
pleasure  is  only  an  emancipation  from  pain,  it  cannot  precede  that, 
of  which  it  is  only  a  negation.     Moreover,  pleasure  cannot  endure 
in  an  unbroken  continuity,  but  must  be  associated  with  pain,  in 
order  to  be  always  suddenly  breaking  through  this  pain,  —  in  order 
to  realize  itself.     Pain,  on  the  contrary,  may  subsist  without  inter- 
ruption in  one  pain,  and  be  only  removed  through  a  gradual  remis- 
sion ;  in  thin  case,  we  have  no  consciousness  of  pleasure.     It  is  the 
sudden,  the  instantaneous  removal  of  pain,  which  determines  all 
that  Ave  can  call  a  veritable  pleasure.     We  lind  ourselves  constantly 
immersed,  as  it  were,  in  an  ocean  of  nameless  pains,  which  we  style 
disquietudes  or  desires,  and  the  greater  the  vigor  of  life  an  individ- 
ual is  endowed  with,  the  more  keenly  is  he  sensible  to  the  pain. 
Without  being  in  a  state  of  determinate  corporeal  suffering,  the 
mind  is  harassed  by  a  multitude  of  obscure  uneasinesses,  and  it  acts, 
without  b^ing  compelled  to  act,  for  the  mere  sake  of  changing  its. 
condition      Thus  men  run  from  solitude  to  society,  and  from  society 
to  solitixde,  without  having  much  preference  for  either,  in   order 
merely,  by  the  change  of  impressions,  to  obtain  a  suspension  of 
their  pain.     It  is  from  this  cause  that  so  many  have  become  tired  of 
their  Ciistence,  and  the  greater  number  of  such  melancholic  subjects 
have  b^en  urged  to  the  act  of  suicide  in  consequence  of  the  contin- 
ual  goading  of  pain,  —  of  pain  from  which  they  found  no  other 
means  of  escape.^ 

"  It  is  certainly  the  intention  of  Providence  that,  by  the  alterna- 
tion of  pain,  we  should  be  ui-ged  on  to  activity.  No  one  can  find 
pleasure  in  the  continual  enjoyment  of  delights  ;  these  soon  pall 
upor  us,  —  pall  upon  us  in  fact  the»sooner,  the  more  intense  was 

1  Cf.  Anthropologit,  §  60  —Ed. 


Lect.  xliii.  metaphysics.  601 

their  enjoyment.  There  is  no  permanent  pleasure  to  be  reaped 
except  in  hibor  alone.  The  pleasure  of  toil  consists  in  a  reaction 
against  the  pain  to  wliich  we  should  be  a  victim,  did  we  not  exert  a 
force  to  resist  it.  Labor  is  irksome,  labor  has  its  annoyances,  but 
these  are  fewer  than  those  we  should  experience  were  we  without 
labor.  As  man,  therefore,  must  seek  even  his  recreation  in  toil 
itself,  his  life  is  at  best  one  of  vexation  and  sorrow;  and  as  all  his^ 
means  of  dissipation  afford  no  alleviation,  he  is  left  always  in  a  state^ 
of  disquietude,  which  incessantly  urges  him  to  escape  from  the  state 
in  which  he  actually  is."  [This  is  the  doom  of  man,  —  to  be  born 
to  sorrow  as  the  sparks  fly  upwards,  and  to  eat  his  bread  in  the 
sweat  of  liis  brow.] 

"  Men  think  that  it  is  ungrateful  to  the  Creator  to  say,  that  it  i& 
che  design  of  Providence  to  keep  us  in  a  state  of  constant  pain  ; 
but  this  is  a  wise  provision  in  order  to  urge  human  liature  on  ta 
exertion.  Were  our  joys  jiermanent,  we  should  never  leave  the 
state  in  which  we  are,  we  should  never  undertake  aught  new.  That 
life  we  may  call  happy,  which  is  furnished  with  all  the  means  by 
which  pain  can  be  overcome ;  we  have  in  fact  no  other  conception 
of  human  hap])iness.  Contentment  is  when  a  man  thinks  of  contin- 
uing in  the  state  in  wliich  he  is,  and  renounces  all  means  of  pleas- 
ure;  but  this  disposition  we  find  in  no  man."' 

1  Mfnschenkumie,  p.  2iS  et  seq.;  published  by  144. —Ed.    [For  further  historical  notices  of 

.Starke,  1831.    This  is  not  included  in  Ksinfs  theories  of  the  Pleasurable,  see  Lossius,  Lcxi^ 

collected  works  by  Kosenkranz  and  Schubert.  kon,Y.  VergnHgen.] 
Cf  Ant/tropologie,  }  59.     Werke,  vii.  part  ii.  p. 

76 


■?i 


LECTURE     XLIV. 

THE  FEELINGS.  —  APPLICATION  OF  THE  THEORY  OF  PLEASURE 
AND  PAIN  TO  THE  PH^ENOMENA. 

The  Feelings  being  mere  subjective  states,  involving  no  cogni- 
tion or  thought,  and,  consequently,  no  reference 
Feeiings.-theirprin-       ^^  object,  it  follows,  that  tliev  cannot  be 

oiple  of  classification  ^        -r-    -i     i  ■,     •  ii* 

internal  classiiied    by  rehition.  to  aught   beyond   them- 

selves. The  differences  in  which  we  must  found 
all  divisions  of  the  Feelings  into  genera  and  species,  must  be  wholly 
internal,  and  must  be  sought  for  and  found  exclusively  in  the  states 
of  Feeling  themselves.     Now,  in  considering  these  states,  it  appears 

to  me,  that  they  admit  of  a  classification  in  two 
Admit  of  a  two-       different   points   of  view;  —  Ave  may    consider  ,,. 

^         ^  '^  x.-  .'~         these  states  either  as  Causes  or  as  Effects.     As 

Causes  and  EtTectfi. 

causes,  they  are  viewed  in  relation  to  their 
product, — their  product  either  of  pleasure  or  of  pain.  As  effects, 
they  are  viewed  as  themselves  products,  —  products  of  the  action 
of  our  different  constitutive  functions.  In  the  former  of  these 
points  of  view,  our  states  of  Feeling  will  be  divided  simply  into 
the  three  classes— 1°,  The  Pleasurable;  2°,  The  Painful;  and,  3°, 
The  partly  Pleasurable  ])artly  Painful,  —  without  considering  what 
kind  of  pleasure  and  what  kind  of  pain  it  is  which  they  involve; 
and  here,  it  only  behooves  us  to  inquire,  —  what  are  the  general 
conditions  which  determine  in  a  feelinsc  one  or  other  of  these 
counter-qualities.  In  the  latter  of  these  points  of  view,  our  states 
of  Feeling  will  be  divided  according  as  the  energy,  of  which  they 
are  concomitant,  be  that  of  a  power  of  one  kind  or  of  another,  —  a 
distinction,  which  affords  a  division  of  our  pleasures  and  pains, 
taken  together,  into  various  sorts.  I  shall  take  these  points  of  view 
in  their  order. 

In  the  former  point  of  view,  these  feelings  are  distributed  simply 
into  the  Pleasurable  and  the  Painful ;  and  it  remains,  on  the  theory 
I  have  proposed,  to  explain,  in  general,  the  causes  of  these  oppo- 
site   .affections,  without  descending  to  their  special  kinds.     Now, 


Lect.  XLIV.  METAPHYSICS.  603 

it  has  been  stated,  that  a  feeling  of  pleasure  is  experiencefl,  wlien 

any  power  is  consciously  exerted  in  a  suitable 
Tiie    Feelings    as       manner;  that  is,  when  we  are  neither  on    the 

Causes,  —  divided  into  -l       j  •  r  ^      •    .  ^ 

J  „  .  one  hand,  conscious  oi  any  restraint   mxm   the 

Pleasurable  and  Pain-  .... 

fui.  energy  which  it  is  disposed  spontaneously  to  put 

Application  of  fore-  forth,  nor,  Oil  the   Other,  conscious  of  any  effort 

going  theory  to  ex-  in  it,  to  put  forth  an  amount  of  energy  greater, 

plain  in  general  tbe  either  in  degree  or  in  continuance,  than  what  it 

causes  of  Pleasurable         .      t  t    r>       i  -r  i  ■• 

and  I'ainfui  feeling.  ^^  disposed  freely  to  exert.     In  other  words,  we 

feel  positive  pleasure,  in  proportion  as  our  pow- 
ers are  exercised,  but  not  over-exercised ;  we  feel  positive  pain,  in 
proportion  as  they  are  compelled  either  not  to  operate,  or  to  oper- 
ate too  much.  All  j^leasure,  thus,  arises  from  the  free  play  of  our 
faculties  and  capacities ;  all  pain  from  their  compulsory  repression 
or  compulsory  activity. 

The  doctrine  meets  with  .no  contradiction  from  the  facts  of  actual 

life ;  for  the  contradictions  which,  at  first  sight. 

Apparent  contradic-       these  sccm  to  offer,  prove,  when  examined,  to  be 

tious   of  the  doctrint-  ,  n  ,.  rrii  -j.        •    i  >.    i        -i  i  . 

real  connrmations.     Ihus  it  might  be  thought, 

prove   real    con  firm  a-  ,  _    •-  o      ' 

tio„g,  that  the  aversion  from  exercise,  —  the  love  of 

Thedcice/arniente.  idleness,  —  in  a  word,  the  dolce  far  nieitte, —  is 
a  proof  that  tlie  inactivity,  rather  than  the  exer- 
tion, of  our  powers,  is  the  condition  of  our  pleasurable  feelings. 
This  objection,  from  a  natural  proneness  to  inertion  in  man,  is 
superficial;  and  the  very  examples  on  "which  it  proceeds,  refute  it, 
nnd,  in  refuting  it,  concur  in  establishing  our  theory  of  pleasure  and 

pain.     Now,  is  the  far  niente,  —  is  that  doing 
This  is  not  the  nega-       nothing,   ill  which   SO  many  find    so  sincere   a 

tion    of  activity,    but  ^-i-       .l*  •  ^•,.  j.'  r         ^-    -^ 

ijratihcation,  in   reanty  a  negation   oi  activitv, 

the  opposite.  °  _      '  _         "^  ...  * 

and  not  in  truth  itself  an  activity  intense  and 
vaiied  ?  To  do  nothing  in  this  sense,  is  simply  to  do  nothing  irk- 
some, —  nothing  difficult,  —  nothing  fatiguing,  —  csjtecially  tt»  do  n<> 
outward  work.  But  is  the  mind  internally,  the  while,  unoccu]>ied 
and  inert?  This,  on  the  contrary,  may  be  vividly  alive,  —  may  ]»c 
intently  engaged  in  the  spont.aneous  play  of  imagination  ;  and  so 
far,  therefore,  in  this  case,  from  pleasure  l)eing  the  concomitant  of 
inactivity,  the  activity  is,  on  the  contrary,  at  once  vigorous  and 
unimpeded;   and    such,  a<-cordingly,  as,  on   our   theory,  would    be 

accompanied     ]>y    a    lii^li    degree     of  ))leasure. 

Knnui  — what.  tt  i         ^\      •  i  •    i       ^     n     t         .1  • 

-     Ennui   i>  tlie  state  in  which  we  find  notliing  on 

All  occupation  either  1  •    1      .  •  i     ^  •    • 

wlucli   to  exercise   our  powers  ;  out  ennui  is  a 

phiv  or  labor.  ' 

stall'  of  ]i,rui.  We  must  recollect,  tliat  all  energy, 
all  occupation,  is  either  play  or  lal)or.     In  the  former,  tlie  energy  aj>- 


604  METAPHYSICS  Lect.  XLIV. 

pears  as  free  or  spontaneous ;  in  the  latter,  as  either  compulsoi-ily  put 
forth,  or  its  exertion  so  impeded  by  difficulties,  that  it  is  only  con- 
tinued by  a  forced  and  painful  effort,  in  order  to  accomplish  certain 
ulterior  ends.  Under  certain  circumstances,  indeed,  play  may 
become  a  labor,  and  labor  may  become  a  play,  A  play  is,  in  fact,  a 
labor,  until  we  liave  acquired  the  dexterity  requisite  to  allow  the 
faculties  exerted  to  operate  with  ease  ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  a 
labor  is  said  to  become  a  play,  when  a  person  has  by  nature,  or  has 
acquired  by  custom,  such  a  facility  in  the  relative  operations,  as  to 
energize  at  once  vigoroiisly  and  freely.  In  jioint  of  fact,  as  man  by 
his  nature  is  determined  to  pursue  happiness  (happiness  is  only 
another  name  for  a  complement  of  pleasures),  he  is  determined  to 
that  spontaneous  activity  of  his  faculties,  in  which  pleasure  consists. 

The  love  of  action  is,  indeed,  signalized,  as  a 
The  love  of  action       fact  iu  human  nature,  by  all  who  have  made 

signalized  as  a  fact  in  ^^^^^  ^^^  ^^-^^  ^^  observation,  though  feW  of 
tiuman   nature  by  all  ,    .       . 

observers.  them  have  been  able  to  explain  its  true  ration- 

SamueiJohn.sou.  ^^^-      " The   necessity  of  action,"  says  Samuel 

Johnson,^  "is  not  only  demonstrable  from  the 
fabric  of  the  body,  but  evident  from  observation  of  the  univejsal 
practice  of  mankind,  Avho,  for  the  preservation  of  health"  (he  should 
have  said  for  pleasure),  "  in  those  whose  rank  or  wealth  exempt^ 
them  from  the  necessity  of  lucrative  labor,  have  invented  s[)orts  and 
diversions,  Avhich,  though  not  of  equal  use  to  the  world  with  man- 
ual trades,  are  yet  of  equal  fatigue  to  those  who  practise  them." 
It  is  finely  observed  by  another  eloquent  philosopher,^  in  account- 
ing, on  natural  princijiles,  for  man's  love  of  war: 

Adam  Ferguson.  ,,-m.  •        i  •  t  t    t    i      •       i 

—  "  iiivery  animal  is  made  to  deliglit  in  the  exer- 
cise of  his  natural  talents  and  forces :  the  lion  and  the  tiger  sport 
with  the  paw ;  the  horse  delights  to  commit  his  mane  to  the  wind, 
and  forgets  his  pasture  to  try  his  s})eed  in  the  field ;  the  bull,  even 
before  his  brow  is  armed,  and  the  lamb,  Avhile  yet  an  emblem  of 
innocence,  have  a  disposition  to  strike  with  the  forehead,  and  antic- 
ipate in  play  the  conflicts  they  are  doomed  to  sustain,  Man,  too,  is 
disposed  to  opposition,  and  to  employ  the  forces  of  his  nature 
against  an  equal  antagonist;  he  loves  to  bring  his  reason,  his  elo- 
(juence,  his  courage,  even  his  bodily  strength,  to  the  proof.  His 
sports  are  frequently  an  image  of  Avar;  sweat  and  blood  are  freely 
expended  in  play ;  and  fractures  or  death  are  often  made  to  terminate 
the  pastime  of  idleness  and  festivity.  He  was  not  made  to  live  for 
ever,  and  even  his  love  of  amusement  has  opened  a  way  to  the  grave." 

1   Rambler,  No-  85.  —  Ed.  2  Adam  Ferguson,  Essay  on  the  History  of  Civil  Society.     Part 

i  tection  iv.  —  Ed. 


I 


Lect.  XLIV.  METAPHYSICS.  605 

"  The  young  of  all  animals,"  says  Paley/  "  appear  to  me  to  receive 
pleasure  simply  from  the  exercise  of  their  limbs 
and  bodily  iaculties,  without  reference  to  any 
end  to  be  attained,  or  any  use  to  be  answered  by  the  exertion.  A 
child,  without  knowing  anything  of  the  use  of  language,  is  in  a  hiixh 
degree  delighted  with  being  able  to  speak.  Its  incessant  repetition 
of  a  few  articulate  sounds,  or,  perhaps,  of  the  single  word  which  it 
has  learnt  to  pronounce,  })roves  this  point  clearly.  Nor  is  it  less 
pleased  with  its  first  successful  endeavors  to  walk,  or  rather  to  run, 
(which  precedes  walking),  although  entirely  ignorant  of  the  impor- 
tance of  the  attainment  to  its  future  life,  and  even  without  a})])lying 
it  to  any  present  jturpose.  A  child  is  delighted  with  speaking, 
without  having  anything  to  say,  and  with  walking,  without  knowing 
where  to  go.  And  prior  to  both  these,  I  am  disposed  to  believe,  that 
the  waking  hours  of  infancy  are  agreeably  taken  up  with  the  exercise 
of  vision,  or  perhaps,  more  properly  speaking,  with  learning  to  see. 

"  But  it  is  not  for  youth  alone  that  the  great  Parent  of  cnsation 
hath  provided.  Hapj^iness  is  found  with  the  purring  cat,  no  less 
than  with  the  playiul  kitten;  in  the  arm-chair  of  dozing  age,  as  well 
as  in  either  the  si)rightliness  of  the  dance,  or  the  animation  of  the 
chase.  To  novelty,  to  acuteness  of  sensation,  to  hope,  to  ardor  of 
pursuit,  succeeds,  what  is,  in  no  inconsiderable  degree,  an  equivalent 
for  them  all,  'perception  of  ease.'  Herein  is  the  exact  difference 
between  the  young  and  the  old.  The  young  are  not  happy,  but 
when  enjoying  pleasure ;  tlie  old  are  happy,  when  free  from  jKiin. 
And  this  constitution  suits  with  the  degrees  of  animal  power  which 
they  respectively  possess.  The  vigor  of  youth  was  to  be  stimulated 
to  action  by  impatience  of  rest ;  whilst  to  the  imbecility  of  age, 
quietness  and  repose  become  positive  gratifications.  In  one  impor- 
tant respect,  the  advantage  is  with  the  old.  A  state  of  ease  is,  gen- 
erally speaking,  more  attaimible  than  a  state  of  jdeasure.  A  con- 
stitution, therefore,  which  can  enjoy  ease,  is  preferable  to  that 
which  can  taste  only  i)leasure.  This  same  perce|)tion  of  ease  often- 
times renders  old  age  a  condition  of  great  comfort,  especially  when 
riding  at  its  anchor  after  a  busy  or  tempestuous  life." 

A  strong  confirmation  of  tiie  doctrine,  that  all  i)leasure  is  a  reflex 

of  activity,  and   that   the   free  energy  of  every 

The  theory  conflnn-       power  is  pleasurable,  IS  derived   from   the  ph:p- 

cd  by  the  i.iu..nonu..>a       ,„„nena  presented  bv  those  aflections  which  we 

prcReiited  by  tlic  I'ain-  •      n       t  ■  '  -i-»   •    r>  i        mi  •     e' 

fui  Affections.  empliatically  denominate  tlie  Pamful.      Tins  tact 

is  too  striking,  from  its  apparent  inconsistency, 
not  to  have  soon  attracted  attention  : 

1  NaturcU  Theology.     Works,  vol.  iv.  chap,  xxvl   p   359. 


606  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLIV. 

"  Non  tantum  Sanctis  instiuctae  legibus  urbes, 
Tectaque  divitiis  luxuriosa  suis 
Mortalem  alliciunt  pulcra  ad  spectacula  visum, 

Sed  placet  anuoso  squalida  terra  situ. 
Oblectat  pavor  ipse  animuin ;  sunt  gaudia  curls, 
Et  stupuisse  juvat,  quern  doluisse  piget."  ^ 

Take,  for  example,  in  the  first  place,  the  affection  of  Grief,  —  the 

sorrow  wo  feel  in  the  loss  of  a  beloved  object. 

Tie   accompanie        j^  ^j^j^  affection  unaccompanied  with  pleasure  ? 

with  pleasure.  ^       .  .  . 

So  far  is  this  from  being  the  case,  that  the  plea- 
sure so  greatly  predominates  over  the  pain  as  to  produce  a  mixed 
emotion,  which  is  far  more  pleasurable  than  any  other  of  which  the 
wounded  heart  is  susceptible.     It  is  expressly  stated  by  the  younger 

Pliny,  in  a  passage  which  commences  with  these 

Noticed  by  Pliny.  \  ,,  t-i  t  •  t    ^        t        ^       .       1^ 

words: — "Est  qutedam  etiam  dolendi  voluptas, 
etc.*     This  has  also  been  frequently  signalized  by  the  poets : 
Ovid.         Thus  Ovid :  ^  ^. 

" Fleque  meos  casus :  est  quaedam  flere  voluptas; 
Expletur  lacrymis  egeriturque  dolor." 

Thus   Lucan :  *    of  Cornelia   after   the  murder  of  Pom« 


Lucan. 

pey: 


"  Caput  ferali  obduxit  amictu, 
Decrevitque  pati  tenebras,  puppisque  cavemis 
Delituit :  saevumque  arete  complexa  dolorem, 
Perfruitur  lachrymis,  et  amat  pro  conjuge  luctum." 


statius.       Thus  Statins :  ^ 

"  Nemo  vetat,  satiare  mails ;  asgrumque  dolorem 
Libertate  doma,  jam  flendi  expleta  voluptas.*' 

Seneca.      Thus  Seneca,  the  tragedian  :  ^ 

"  Moeror  lacrymas  amat  assuetas, 
Flendi  miseris  dira  cupido  est." 

Petrarch.     Thus  Petrarch  :' 

1  Virginias  Caesarinus  [Pofmata  Virginii  Cce-     defleas,  apud  quem  lacrymis  tuis  vel  laus  sit 
sarini,   Vrbani  viii.     Pont.  Opt.  Max.   Cubiculo      parata,  vel  venia. — Ed. 

PrcT.fecti.     Printed   in   Sejttem   llluatrium    Viro-  3  Tristia,  iv.  iii.  37.  —  Ed. 

rum  Poemata.    Amstelodami,  apud  Dan.  *  *  Pharsalia.,ix.  108.  —  Ed. 
levirium,  1672,  p.  465.  —  Ed.  5  11.  Sylv.  i.  14.  —  Ed. 

2  Lib.   viii     Ep.  16:    "Est  quaedam   etiam         6   Thyestes,].952.  —  Ki> 

dolendi  voluptas;  praesertim  si  in  amici  sinu         ^  Epist.  L.  I.  Barbato  Sulmonensi.  —  Eo. 


Lect.  xliv.  metaphysics.  601 

"  Non  omnia  terrae 
Obruta;  vivit  amor,  vivit  dolor;  era  ne<ratur 
Regia  conspicere,  at  flere  et  meminisf-e  relictum  est." 

Shen^tone.     Thus  Shenstone :  ^ 

"  Heu  quanto  minus  est  cum  reliquis  versari,  quam  tui  memiaisi*.*' 
Pembroke.     Finally,  Lord  Pembroke  :  ^ 

"  I  would  not  give  my  dead  son  for  the  best  living  son  in  Christendom. 

In  like  manner,  Fear  is  not  simply  painful.     It  is  a  natural  dispo- 
sition ;  has  a  tendency  to  act ;  and  there  is,  con- 
Fear,   not  simply       scQuently,  along  with  its  essential  pain,  a  certain 
Akenside  quoted.  pleasure,   as  the  reflex  of  its   energy.     This  u 

finely  exjjressed  by  Akenside :  ^ 

"  Hence,  finally,  by  might 
The  village  matron  round  the  blazing  hearth 
Suspends  the  infant  audience  with  her  tales. 
Breathing  astonishment!  of  witching  rhymes 
And  evil  spirits  of  the  deathbed  call 
Of  him  who  robb'd  the  widow,  and  devour'd 
The  orphan's  portion,  of  unquiet  souls 
Ris'n  from  the  grave  to  ease  the  heavy  guilt 
Of  deeds  in  life  conceal'd,  of  shapes  that  walk 
At  dead  of  night  and  dank  their  chains,  and  waT« 
The  torch  of  hell  around  the  murd'rer's  bed. 
At  every  solemn  pause,  the  crowd  recoil, 
Gazing  each  other  speechless,  and  congeal'd 
With  shivering  sighs  till,  eager  for  th'  event, 
Around  the  beldame  all  erect  they  hang, 
Eacli  trembling  heart  witli  LTatefiil  terrors  quell'd." 

In  like  manner,  Pity,  which,  beincj  a  sympathetic  passdon,  implies 

a   participation    in    sorrow,   is    yet    confessedly 

'  ^'  agreeable.    The  poet  even  accords  to  the  energy 

of  this  benevolent  affection  a  preference  over  the  enjoyments  of  an 

exclusive  selfishness : 

"The  broadest  mirth  unfeeling  folly  wears. 
Is  not  so  sweet  as  virtue's  very  tears." 

1  Inscription  on  an  urn.  See  Dotisley's  Carte's  Life,  b.  viii.  Anno  1680.  Hume,  chip. 
Description  of  the  Leasoives,  in  Sheustonc's  Ixix.,  tt-lls  the  8tory  of  the  Duke  of  Ormond, 
Works  (1777).  vol   ii.  p.  .'»".  —  Ed.  but  as  in  the  text.  —  Ed. 

2  The  anecdote  is  told  in  aponicwliat  difTer-  3  Pleasures  of  Imagination,  b.  i.  255.  —  Ed. 
Kit  form   of  the    Duke    of  Ormoud.      See 


'608  METAPHYSICS.  Lkct.  XLIV. 

On  the  same  principle  is  to  be  explained  the  enjoyment  which 

men  have   in   si^ectacles  of  suffering, — in  the 

Energetic  emotions       combats   of  animals  and    men,  in    executions, 

painful  in  themselves  ,.  ,.  .   .  i  •    i 

still  pleasurable.  tragedies,  etc,  —  a  disposition    which    not  un- 

frequently  becomes  an  irresistible  habit,  not 
only  for  individuals,  but  for  nations.  The  excitation  of  energetic 
emotions  painful  in  themselves  is,  however,  abo  pleasurable.     St. 

Austin  affords  curious  examples  of  this  in  his 

Illustrated    in    the  •  t     •       j.\     j.       n    i-       r  •        i      ^^       • 

^  „,  .       ^.  own  case,   and  in  that  oi   his   triend   Alypius. 

case  of  &t.  Augustiue.  _  .  _         _  *'  ■■■ 

Speaking  of  himself  in  his  Confessions^  he  says; 
"  Theatrical  exhibitions  were  to  me  irresistible,  replete  as  they  were 
Avith  the  images  of  my  own  miseries,  and  the  fuel  of  my  own  fire. 
What  is  the  cause  whv  a  man  chooses  to  grieve  at  scenes  of  tragic 
suffering,  which  he  would  have  the  utmost  aversion  himself  to 
endure  ?  And  yet  the  spectator  wishes  to  derive  grief  from  these  ; 
in  fact,  the  grief  itself  constitutes  his  pleasure.  For  he  is  attracted 
to  the  theatre,  not  to  succour,  but  only  to  condole." 

In  another  part  of  the  same  woi'k,^  he  gives  the  following  account 
of  his  friend  Alypius,  who  had  been  carried  by 

Also  in  the  case  of        i  •     r  ^^  ^    :3       i.  i  •      ^   !_•     •       t       ^'     * 

^.  ^  .    ^  .,    .  Jiis  lellow-stuaents,  much  against  his  inclination, 

nis  friend  Alypius  . 

to  the  amphitheatre,  Avliere  there  was  to  be  a 
combat  of  gladiators.  At  first,  unable  to  regard  the  atrocious  spec- 
tacle, he  closed  his  eyes,  but,  to  give  you  the  result  of  the  story  in 
the  words  of  St.  Austin,  "Abstulit  inde  secum  insaniam  qua  stimu- 
laretur  redire,  non  tantum  cum  illis  a  quibus  prius  abstractus  est,  sed 
etiam  prae  illis,  et  alios  trahens." 

I  now  proceed  to  consider  the  General  Causes  which  contribute 
to  raise  or  to  lower  the  intensity  of  our  energies, 

General  Causes  and,  Consequently,  to  determine  the  correspond- 
which   contribute  to       -       ^^„^.^^  ^f  pleasure  or  pain.     These  may  be 

raise    or    lower     the  i^i-ir.  i«  !• 

intensity  of  our  ener-       reduced  to  r  our;  for  an  object  rouses  the  activ- 
gies.  ity  of  our  powers,  1°,  In  proportion  as  it  is  New 

or  Unexpected ;  2°,  In  proportion  as  it  stands  in 
a  relation  of  Contrast ;  3^,  In  projiortion  as  it  stands  in  a  relation 
of  Harmony ;  and,  4°,  In  proportion  as  it  is  Associated  with  more, 
or  more  interesting,  objects. 

I.  The  principle  on  which  Novelty  determines  higher  energy, 
and,  consequently,  a  higher  feeling  of  pleasure, 
is  twofold ;  and  of  these  the  one  may  be  called 
the  Subjective,  the  other  the  Objective. 

1  Lib  iii.  cap.  2. —  Ed.  Physica,  p.  iii.  §   iii.  c.  v.  Institut.  Phil.  iii.  p 

S  Con/.,  lib.  vi.  cap.  8.  —  Ed.    See  Purchot,      416. 


Lect.  XLIV.  metaphysics.  609 

In  a  subjective  relation, — the  new  is  pleasurable,  inasmuch  as 

this  supposes  that  the  raiud  is  determined  to  a 

woo   ,  — sujec-       jj2Q(Je  of  action,  either  from  inactivity  or  from 

tive  and  objective.  ^  •' 

another  state  of  energy.  In  the  former  case, 
energy  (the  condition  of  pleasure),  is  caused;  in  the  latter,  a  change 
of  energy  is  afforded,  whicli  is  also  pleasurable  ;  for  powers  energize 
less  vigorously  in  proportion  to  the  continuance  of  the  same  exer- 
tion, consequently,  a  new  activity  being  determined,  this  replaces  a 
strained  or  expiring  exercise,  that  is,  it  replaces  a  painful,  indiffer- 
ent, or  unpleasurable  feeling,  by  one  of  comparatively  vivid  enjoy- 
ment. Hence  all  that  the  poets,  from  Homer  downward,  have  said 
of  the  satiety  consequent  on  our  enjoyments,  and  of  the  charms  of 
variety  and  change  ;  but  if  I  began  to  give  quotations  on  these 
heads  there  would  be  no  end.  In  an  objective  relation,  —  a  novel 
object  is  pleasing,  because  it  affords  a  gratification  to  our  desire  of 
knowledge ;  for  to  learn,  as  Aristotle  has  observed,^  is  to  man  natu- 
rally pleasing.  But  the  old  is  already  known, —  it  has  been  learned 
—  has  been  referred  to  its  place,  and,  therefore, -no  longer  occupies 
the  cognitive  faculties ;  whereas,  the  new,  as  new,  is  still  unknown, 
and  rouses  to  energy  the  powers  by  which  it  is  to  be  brought  within 
the  system  of  our  knowledge. 

II.    The  second  general  principle  is  Contrast.     Contrast  operates 
in   two  ways;  for  it  has  the  effect  both  of  en- 
hancing the  real  or  absolute  intensity  of  a  feel- 
ing, and  of  enhancing  the  apparent  or  relative.     As  an  instance  of 

the  former,  the  unkindness  of  a  person  from 
Subordinate  appii-       -vvhom  wc  cxpcct  kindness,  rouses  to  a  far  higher 

cations   of  this   priu-  .  .  •    •  a 

gipij.  pitch  the  emotions   consequent  on   injury.     As 

an  instance  of  the  latter,  the  pleasure  of  eating 

appears  proportionally  great,  Avhen  it  is  immediately  connected  and 

contrasted  with  the  removal  of  the  pangs  of 
1.   Recoiiecuon  of      j^^^       .     It  is  on  this  principle,  that  the  recol- 

past  suffering.  ^  .         . 

lection  of  our  past  suffering  is  agreeable,  —  "  haec 
olim  raeminisse  juvabit."  -  To  the  same  purport  Seneca,"  the  trage- 
dian : 

"  Quae  furit  durum  pati 

Mcminisse  dulce  est." 
Cowley.  And  Cowley:* 

"Thinirs  which  offend,  wlicn  present,  and  affright, 
In  memory,  well  painted,  move  delijjht." 

1  IVut.i.l\,7,\;  iii.  10.  2.  — Ed.  3  H'rculfs  Furfns,  act   ill.  66«.— Ed. 

8  Virgil    Mnei(l,\  203. — Ed.  ••  Ode  upon  his  Majesty's  Restoration.  —  E0. 

I    i 


610  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLIV. 


Southern. 


Whereas  the  remembrance  of  a  former  happiness  only 
augments  the  feeling  of  a  present  misery. 

"  Could  I  forget 
What  I  have  been,  I  might  the  better  bear 
What  I  am  destin'd  to.     I  'm  not  the  first 
That  have  been  wretched :  but  to  think  how  much 
I  have  been  happier."  i 

It  is,  likewise,  on  this  principle,  that  whatever  recalls  us  to  a  vivid 

consciousness  of  our  own  felicity,  by  contrasting 

2.  Consciousness  of       -^  ^^^j^j^  ^-^^  wretchedness  of  others,  is,  though 

our    own    felicity    as  .  .  . 

contrasted   with  the       ^^^  unaccompanied  With  sympathetic  pain,  still 
wretchedness  of  oth-       predominantly  pleasurable.     Hence,  in  part,  but 

in  part  only,  the  enjoyment  ^^e  feel  from  all  rep- 
resentations of  ideal  suffering.     Hence,  also,  in 
part,  even  the  pleasure  we  have  in  witnessing  real  suffering  •- 


ers. 

Lucretius  quoted. 


"  Suave,  mari  magno  turbantibus  aequora  ventis, 
E  terra  magnum  alterius  spectare  laborem  -. 
Non  quia  vexari  queraquam  est  jucunda  voluptas, 
Sed  quibus  ipse  malis  careas,  quia  cernere  suave  est. 
Suave  etiam  belli  certamina  magna  tueri 
Per  campos  instructa,  tua  sine  parte  pericli."  ^ 

But  on  this,  and  other  subjects,  I  can  only  touch. 

III.  The  third  general  principle  on  which  our  powers  are  roused 
to  a  perfect  and  pleasurable,  or  to  an  imperfect 

III.    Harmony  and  i         •    /•  i  •     ^i  ^   ^-  /-  tt 

^^  and  painiul  energy,  is  the  relation  ot  Harmony, 

or   Discord,   in    which    one  coexistent   activity 
stands  to  another. 

It  is  sufficient  merely  to  indicate  this  principle,  for  its  influence  is 
manifest.  At  different  times,  we  exist  in  differ- 
ent complex  states  of  feeling,  and  these  states 
are  made  up  of  a  number  of  constituent  thoughts  and  affections.. 
At  one  time,  —  say  during  a  sacred  solemnity,  —  we  are  in  a  very 
different  frame  of  mind  from  what  we  are  at  another,  —  say  during 
the  representation  of  a  comedy.  Now,  then,  in  such  a  state  of 
mind,  if  anything  occurs  to  waken  to  activity  a  power  previously 
unoccupied,  or  to  occupy  a  power  previously  in  energy  in  a  differ- 
ent manner,  this  new  mode  of  activity  is  either  of  the  same  general 
character  and  tendency  Avith  the  other  constituent  elements  of  the 
complex  state,  or  it  is  not.  In  the  former  case,  the  new  energy 
chimes  in  with  the  old  ;  each  operates  without  impediment  from  the 

1  Southern,  Innocent  Adultery,  act  ii.  2  Lucretius,  ii.  2.  —  Ed 


Lect.  xi.iv.  metaphysics.  611 

other,  and  the  general  harmony  of  feeling  is  not  violated :  in  the 
latter  case,  the  new  energy  jars  with  the  old,  and  each  severally 
counteracts  and  impedes  the  other.  Thus,  in  the  sacred  solemnity, 
and  when  our  minds  are  brought  to  a  state  of  serious  contempla- 
tion, everything  that  operates  in  unison  with  that  state,  —  say  a 
pious  discourse,  or  a  strain  of  solemn  music,  —  will  have  a  greater 
effect,  because  all  the  powers  which  are  thus  determined  to  exer- 
tion, go  to  constitute  one  total  comj^lement  of  harmonious  energy. 
But  sujipose  tliat,  instead  of  the  pious  discourse  or  the  strain  of 
solemn  music,  we  are  treated  to  a  merry  tune  or  a  witty  address ;  — 
these,  though  at  another  season  they  might  afford  us  considerable 
pleasure,  would,  under  the  circumstances,  cause  only  pain ;  because 
the  energies  they  elicited,  would  be  impeded  by  those  others  with 
which  the  mind  was  already  engrossed,  while  those  others  would, 
in  like  manner,  be  impeded  by  them.  But,  as  we  have  seen,  pleas- 
ure is  the  concomitant  of  unimpeded  energy. 

IV.  The  fourth  and  last  general  principle  by  which  the  activity 
of  our  powers  is  determined  to  pleasurable  or 

IV.  Association.  •    r  ^        j.'    '^       •      k  •    ^-  -itt-xi     ^i 

paintui  activity,  is  Association.    With  the  nature 

Its  nature.  -^  .  •' 

and  influence  of  association  vou  are  familiar,  and 
are  aware  that,  a  determinate  object  being  present  in  consciousness 
with  its  proper  thought,  feeling,  or  desire,  it  is  not  present,  isolated 
and  alone,  but  may  draw  after  it  the  representation  of  other  objects, 
with  their  respective  feelings  and  desires. 

Now  it  is  evident,  in  the  first  place,  that  one  object,  considered 

simply  and  in  itself,  will  be  more  pleasing  than 

And  influence.  ,  .  .  .         „  .  ^ 

another,  in  proportion  as  it,  oi  its  proper  nature, 
determines  the  exertion  of  a  greater  amount  of  free  energy.  But, 
in  the  second  place,  the  amount  of  free  energy  which  an  object  may 
itself  elicit,  is  small,  when  compared  to  the  amount  that  may  be 
elicited  by  its  train  of  associated  representations.  Thus,  it  is  evi- 
dent, that  the  object  which  in  itself  would  otlierwise  be  pleasing, 
may,  through  the  accident  of  association,  be  the  occasion  of  pain ; 
and,  on  the  contrary,  that  an  object  naturally  indifferent  or  even 
painful  may,  by  the  same  contingency,  be  productive  of  jtleasure. 
This  principle  of  Association  accounts  for  a  great   many  of  the 

l>ha?nomena    of  our    intellectual    pleasures    and 

Apsociation  supposes       pains ;  but  it  is  far  from  accounting  for  every- 

ts  iu  coniition  pains       ^^^.  j^  ^       -^  g,      ^scs,  as  its  condition,  that 

Jatl       pleapuri's      not  ^-  '  i  i  r  i     1 

bounded  on  itself.  there  arc  pains  and  pleasures   not    tounde<l  on 

Association.  Association  is  a  princii)le  of  pleas- 
ure and  pain,  only  as  it  is  a  princi]ile  of  energy  of  one  character 
or  another;   and   the  attemitts  that  have  been  made  to  resolve  all 


612  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLIV. 

our  mental  pleasures  and  pains  into  Association,  are  guilty  of  a 

twofold  vice.     For,  in  the  first  place,  they  con- 

The  attempt  to  re-       vert  a  partial  into  an  exclusive   law ;  and,  in 

solve  all  our  pleasures       ^j^g  second,  they  elevate   a  subordinate  into  a 

and  pains  into  Associ-  .       .    ,  rni       •    n  <^   4  .      . 

ation,  vicious  in  a  two-  Supreme  principle.  The  influence  of  Association, 
fold  way.  by  which  Mr.  Alison '  and  Lord  JeflTrey,^  among 

others,  have  attempted  to  explain  the  whole 
phaenomena   of  our   intellectual    pleasures,  was    more   properly,  I 

think,  appreciated  by  Hutcheson,  —  a  philoso- 

Hutcheson    more       pher  whose  works  are  deserving  of  more  atten- 

proper  >    apprec.a  e        ^.^^  than  has  latterly  been  paid  to  them.     "  We 

the  influence  of  Asso-  «'  '■ 

ciation.  shall  See  hereafter,"  he  says,  and  Aristotle  said 

the  same  thing,  "  that  associations  of  ideas  make 
objects  pleasant  and  delightful,  which  are  not  naturally  apt  to  give 
any  such  pleasures;  and  the  same  way,  the  casual  conjunction  of 
ideas  may  give  a  disgust  where  there  is  nothing  disagreeable  in  the 
form  itself.  And  this  is  the  occasion  of  many  fantastic  aversions 
to  figures  of  some  animals,  and  to  some  other  forms.  Thus  swine, 
serpents  of  all  kinds,  and  some  insects  really  beautiful  enough,  are 
beheld  with  aversion,  by  many  people  who  have  got  some  acciden- 
tal ideas  associated  with  them.  And  for  distastes  of  this  kind  no 
other  account  can  be  given."  ^ 

1  See  hia  Essays  on   Taste.    6th  edit.  Edin-  3  Inquiry  into  the  Origin  0/ our  Ideas  0/ Beaut  j 
burgh,  1825.  —  Ed.  and  Virtue,  treatise  i.  sect,  vi.,  4th  edition,  p. 

2  See   Encydopadia  Britanniea,  art.  Beauty,  73.  —  Ed. 
7th  edit.  p.  487.  — Ed.  J" 


LECTURE     XLV. 

THE   FEELINGS.  —  THEIR   CLASSES. 

Having  thus  terminated  the  consider.ation  of  the  Feeliners  con- 
sidered    as    Causes, —  causes   of   Pleasure    and 

The  Feelings,  —  con-         -d   •  t  t    .  •  t         ..  -r-i,« 

•idered  us  Effects.  ^^^^'  ~  ^  Pi"Oceed  to  Consider  them  as  EtFects, 

—  as  products  of  the  action  of  our  diiFerent  pow- 
ers. Now,  it  is  evident,  that,  since  all  F'eeling  is  the  state  in  which 
we  are  conscious  of  some  of  the  energies  or  processes  of  life,  as  these 

energies  or  processes  differ,  so  will  the  correla- 

As  many  different       tive  feelings.     In  a  word,  there  will  be  as  many 

ee  ngs  as     ere  are       different  Feelings  as  there  are  distinct  modes  of 

distinct      modes      of  ,    .       ^ 

mental   activity.  mental  activity.    In  the  Lecture  in  which  I  com- 

menced the  discussion  of  the  Feelings,  I  stated 
to  you  various  distributions  of  these  states  by  different  philoso- 
phers.^    To  these  I  do  not  think  it  necessary  again  to  recur,  and 
shall  simply  state  to  you  the  grounds  of  the  division  I  shall  adopt. 
As  the  Feelings,  then,  are  not  primitive  and  independent  states,  but 
merely  states  which  accompany  the  exertion  of 

Two    grand    classes  <■        i.-  .1  •,     .•  n 

^  „   ,.  our  faculties,  or  the  excitation  ot  our  capacities, 

of  teelings.  .  ' 

they  must,  as  I  have  said,  take  their  differences 
from  the  differences  of  the  powers  which  they  attend.  Now,  thougli 
all  consciousness  and  all  feeling  be  only  mental,  and,  consequently,  to 
say  that  any  feeling  is  corporeal,  would,  in  one  point  of  view,  be  inac- 
curate, still  it  is  manifest  that  there  is  a  considerable  number  of  men- 
tal functions,  cognitive  as  well  as  apj)etent,  clearly 

I.  Sensations.  ,      ,        ,        .'  .  ,      .        ^^111* 

marked  out  as  in  proximate  relation  to  the  body; 
and  to  these  functions  we  give  the  name  of  AVz/.s-iV/tv,  A'«.v/Wt',  »SV'?/- 
suous,  or  Sensual.  Now,  the  feelings  which  accompany  the  exer- 
tion of  these  Sensitive  or  Corporeal  Powers,  wliethcr  cognitive  or 
appetent,  will  constitute  a  distinct  class,  .iiid  to  these  we  may,  with 
great  projiriety,-  give  the  name  of  Sensations:  whereas,  on  the 
Feelings  which  accompany  the  energies  of  all  our  higher  powers  of 

1  See  above.  Icct   xli.  p.  570.  —  Kd. 


614  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLV, 

mind,  we  may,  with  equal  j)ropriety,  bestow  the  name  of  /Senthnents. 

The  lirst  grand  distribution  of  our  feeUngs  will, 

therefore,  be  into  the  Sensations,  —  that  is,  the 
Sensitive  or  External  Feelings ;  and  into  the  Sentiments,  —  that  is, 
the  Mental  or  Internal  Feelings.     Of  these  in  their  order. 

1.   Of  the  Sensations.  —  The  Sensations  may  be  divided  into  two 

classes.     The  first  class  will  contain  those  which 
ensations.       wo       accompany    our   perceptions    through    the   five 

determinate  Senses,  —  of  Touch,  Taste.  Smell, 
Hearing,  and  Sight,  —  the   Sensus  J/Hxiis.     The  second  class  will 

comprise  those  sensations  which   are   included 

1.  oi    the    Five       undei-  what  has  been  called  the  Coenmsthesis,  or 

Senses. 

/Se7isits     Communis,  —  the     Commoti    /Sense,  — 

Vital  Sense,  —  Sensus  Vagus,  —  such  as  the  feelings  of  Heat  and 

Cold,  of  Shuddering,  the  feeling  of  Health,  of 

2.  Of  the   Sensus       Muscular  Tension  and  Lassitudc,  of  Hunger  and 

Vagus.  ,  .  , 

Thirst,  the  v  isceral  Sensations,  etc.,  etc' 
In  regard  to  the  determinate  senses,  each  of  these  organs  has  its 
specific  action,  and  its  appropriate  pleasure  and 
The  first  c)ass  con-  -^     ^^^,  ^j^gj.g  jg  ^  pleasure  experienced  in  each 

sidered.  ^  '  ,  .  .  -.       ,  •   ,      i 

of  these,  when  an  object  is  presented  which  de- 
termines it  to  suitable  activity ;  and  a  pain  or  dissatisfiiction  experi- 
enced, when  the  energy  elicited  is  either  inordinately  vehement  or 
too  remiss.  This  pleasure  and  pain,  which  is  that  alone  belonging 
to  the  action  of  the  living  organ,  and  which,  therefore,  may  be  styled 

organic,  we  must  distinguish  from  that  higher 
Organic    pleasure       feeling,  which,  perhaps,  results  from  the  exercise 

and  pain  discriminated  n  -r  •         •  it        ^^  ^  ^ 

and  illustrated  ^^  Imagination  and  Intellect  upon  the  pha^nom- 

ena  delivered  by  the  senses.  Thus,  I  would  call 
organic  the  pleasure  we  feel  in  the  perception  of  green  or  blue,  and 
the  pain  we  feel  in  the  perception  of  a  dazzling  white ;  but  I  would 
be,  perhaps,  disposed  to  refer  to  some  other  power  than  the  Ex- 
ternal Sense,  the  enjoyment  we  experience  in  the  harmony  of  colors, 
and  certainly  that  which  we  find  in  the  proportions  of  figure.  The 
same  observation  applies  to  Hearing.  I  would  call  organic  the 
pleasure  we  have  in  single  sounds;  whereas  the  satisfaction  we 
receive  from  the  harmony,  and,  still  more,  from  the  melody  of  tones, 
seeins  to  require  a  higher  faculty.  This,  however,  is  a  very  obscure 
and  difiicult  problem  ;  but,  in  whatever  manner  it  be  determined, 
the  Aristotelic  theory  of  pleasure  and  pain  is  the  only  one  that  can 
account  for  the  phaenomena.  Limiting,  however,  the  organic 
pleasure,  of  which  a  sense  is  capable,  to  that  from  the  activity  de- 

1  See  above,  lect.  xxvii.  p.  377.  —  Ed. 


Lkct.  XLV.  M  K  1'  A  1'  H  Y  S  I  C  S .  615 

termined  in  it  by  its  elementary  objects,  —  this  will  be  competent 

to  every  sense,  but  in  very  different  degrees.     In 
The  degree  of  or-       treating  of  the  Cognitive  Powers,  I  formeily  no- 

ganic  pleaHu.e  deter-         ^-^^^  ^j^.^^  j^^  .^,j  ^j^^  g^^^^^g  ^^  ^^^j^^  discriminate 
mined    by   tlie    objec- 
tivity and  subjectivity        t^^'<^  i)lu'enomena, — the  phaenomenon  of  Percejt- 

of  the  Sense.  ;  tion   Proper,  and    the   phajnomenon    of    Sensa- 

tion l*roper.'  By  jyerception  is  understood  the 
objective  relation  of  the  sense,  that  is,  the  information  obtained 
through  it  of  the  qualities  of  external  existences  in  their  action  on 
the  organ  ;  by  sensation  is  understood  the  subjective  relation  of  the 
«ense,  that  is,  our  consciousness  of  the  aifection  of  the  organ  itseltj 
as  acted  on,  —  as  affected  by  an  object.  I  stated  that  these  pha;- 
nomena  were  in  an  inverse  ratio  to  each  other,  that  is,  the  greater 
the  perception  the  less  always  the  sensation,  the  greater  the  sen- 
sation the  less  always  the  perception.  I  further  observed,  that, 
of  the  senses,  some  were  more  objective,  others  more  subjective ; 
—  that  in  some  the  phenomenon  of  perception  predominated,  in 
others  the  phainomenon  of  sensation ;  that  is,  some  gave  us  mucl^ 
information  in  regard  to  the  (jualities  of  their  object  and  little  in 
regard  to  their  own  affection  in  the  act;  whereas  the  information 
we  received  from   others,  was  almost  limited  exclusively  to  their 

own  modification,  when  at  work.     Thus  the  two 
.  ig      an       earing       lijcrher  scnses  of  Sight   and   Ilearini;  mi^ht  be 

objective:    Taste    and  °    .  ".  .        . 

Smell  subjective  ■  Considered  as  preeminently  objective,  the  two 
hence  in  the  two  for-  lower  seuses  of  Taste  and  Smell  might  be  con- 
mer,  organic  pleasure       sidcrcd  as  preeminently   subjective ;    while  the 

and    pain    feeble,   in  „™         i         •    i  *  i  •  i  ,.i     ..  •         i  •    i 

,  ,.      .  sense  of  louch  might  be  viewed  as  that  m  which 

two  latter  strong.  * 

the  two  pha^nomena  are,  as  it  were,  in  ifquilihrio. 
Now,  according  to  this  doctrine,  we  ought  to  find  the  organic  pleas- 
ure and  pain  in  the  two  higher  senses  comparatively  feeble,  in  the 
two  lower,  comj)aratively  strong.  And  so  it  is.  The  satisfaction 
or  dissatisfaction  we  receive  from  certain  single  colors  and  certain 
single  sounds,  in  determining  the  organs  of  Sight  and  Hearing  to 
perfect  or  imperfect  activity,  is  small  in  proportion  to  the  pleasure 
or  the  displeasure  we  are  conscious  of  from  the  application  of  cer- 
tain single  objects  to  the  org;ins  of  Taste  or  Smell. 

So  fir  we   may  safely  go.     l>ut  when  it  is  re- 

iiow  far  the  theory       quired  of  US  to  explain,  particularly  and  in  <letail,  - 

of  pleasure   and   pain  ^;,,^^,  ^j^^.    ^.^^^^  f^,.   j.^.^,,,.,!,.^  produceS    tllis   SCnsa- 

alTords  an  explanation  .'  n      ■  ■>        ■,  ■,  >i 

ofthephanomena  ^-'^n  uf  smell,  assaUetida  that  other,  ;uid  so  forth, 

and  to  say  in  what  peculiar  action  does  tlie  per- 
fect or  pleasurable,  and  the  impi-rtcct  or  painful,  activity  of  an  organ 

1  See  above,  lect.  xxiv.  p.  3.3.").  —  Vj>. 


616  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLV. 

consist,  we  must  at  once  profess  our  ignorance.  But  it  is  the  same 
witli  all  our  attempts  at  explaining  any  of  the  ultimate  phaenomena 
of  creation.  In  general,  we  may  account  for  much ;  in  detail,  we 
can  rarely  account  for  anything ;  for  we  soon  remount  to  facts  which 
lie  beyond  our  powers  of  analysis  and  observation. 

All  that  we  can  say  in  explanation  of  the  agreeable  in  sensation^ 
is,  that,  on  the  general  analogy  of  our  being,  when  the  impression  of 
an  object  on  a  sense  is  in  hai-mony  with  its  amount  of  power,  and 
thus  allows  it  the  condition  of  springing  to  full  spontaneous  energy, 
the  result  is  pleasure  ;  whereas,  when  the  impression  is  out  of  har- 
mony with  the  amount  of  power,  and  thus  either  represses  it  or 
stimulates  it  to  over-activity,  the  result  is  pain. 

The  same  explanation,  drawn  from  the  obser- 
leorv  app  ica-       yation  of  the  phaenomena  within  our  reach,  must 

We  to  the  Vital  Sense.  -^ 

be  applied  to  the  sensations  which  belong  to 
the  Vital  Sense,  but  in  regard  to  these  it  is  not  necessary  to  .say 
anything  in  detail. 

11.   The  Mental  or  Internal  P'eelings,  —  the  Sentiments,  —  may 

be  divided  into   Contemplative  and   Practical. 

II.  Sentiments —di-       ^j^^  former  are  the  concomitants  of  our  Cogni- 

rided  into  Contempla-  •        -r->  />  t->  >  .«-( 

tive  and  Practical.  ^^^^  Powers,  the  latter  of  our  Powers  ot  Cona- 

tion.    Of  these  in  their  order. 
The    Contemplative   Feelings    are    again    distributed   into    twa 
classes,  —  into  those  of  the  Subsidiaiy  Faculties 
Contemplative  Feel-       and  those  of  the  Elaborative  ;  and  the  Feelings 
ings  divided  into  those       accompanying  the   subsidiarv  fliculties  may  be 

of  the  Subsidiary  Fac-  .  ,,.."",,.  ,  /^o    i^/->i 

uioes-    and    of  the  again  Subdivided  mto  those  oi  Seli-Consciousness 

Elaborative.  The  first  Or  Internal  Perception,  and  into  those  of  Imagi- 

ciass     divided     into  nation,  —  Imagination  being  here  employed  to 

ose    o       e  ■  OM-  comprehend  its  relative  faculty,  the  facultv  of 

sciousness  and  of  Im-  ^  .  .  . 

agination.  Reproduction.     Of  these  in    their   order;    and 

first  of  the  Feelings  or  Sentiments  attending 
the  faculty  of  Reflex  Perception  or  Self-Consciousness. 

By  this  faculty  we  become  aware  of  our  internal  states ;  that  is, 

in  other  word.-*,  that  we  live.     Now  we  are  con- 

a.    Sentiments  at-       scious  of  our  life  Only  as  we  are  conscious  of  our 

tending         Self-Con-  .    .  ^  .  „ 

eciousness.  activity,  and  we   are  conscious  oi  our  activity 

only  as  we  are  conscious  of  a  change  of  state,  — • 

for  all  activity  is  the  going  out  of  one  state  into  another ;  while,  al 

the  same  time,  we  are  only  conscious  of  one  state  by  contrast  to,  or 

as  discriminated  from,  a  preceding.     Now  pleas- 
Tedium  or  Ennui.  ,  7       ,  . 

ure,  we  have  also  seen,  is  the  consciousness  ot 

a  vigorous  and  unimpeded  energy ;  pain,  the  consciousness  of  re- 


Lect.  xlv.  metaphysics.  t31T 

pressed  or  impeded  tendency  to  action.  This  being  the  case,  if 
there  be  nothing  which  presents  to  our  faculties  the  objects  on 
which  they  may  exert  their  activity,  in  other  words,  if  there  be  no 
cause  whereby  our  actual  state  may  be  made  to  pass  into  another, 
there  results  a  peculiar  irksome  feeling  for  a  want  of  excitement, 
which  we  denominate  tedium  or  enmu.  This  feeling  is  like  that  of 
being  unable  to  die,  and  not  being  allowed  to  live ;  and  sometimes 
becomes  so  oppressive  that  it  leads  to  suicide  or  madness. 

The  pain  we  experience  in  the  feeling  of  Tedium,  arises  from  the 
feeling  of  a  repressed  tendency  to  action  ;  and 

Arises  from  a  re-       j^  jg  intense  in  proportion  as  this  feeling  is  lively 

pressed    tendency    to  ,        .  t        •       i  :i-i.        j.       xi  i  ^     • 

^  .  and    vigorous.      An   inahility   to   thouccht    is  a 

action.  _    ^  _  _  _        ''  ^^ 

security  against  this  feeling,  and,  therefore,  te- 
dium is  far  less  felt  by  the  uncultivated  than  by  the  educated.  The 
more  varied  the  objects  [tresented  to  our  thought, — the  more  varied 

and  vivacious  our  activity,  the  intenser  will  be 

Themore  varied  and  .  c  ^•    •  i    ^l 

,.  .,  our  consciousness  ot  living,  and  the  more  rap- 

vivacious-  our  activity,         ... 

the  intenser  our  con-  idlv  will  the  time  appear  to  fly.  IJut  when  ■we 
sciousmss  of  life,  and       look   back   u])on    tlic   scrics  of  tliouglits,   with 

the  more  rapidly  does  ^^j^j^,,^     ^^^    ^^^^^^^     ^^,^^    OCCUpied     the    while,    We 

time  appear  to  fly.  i  ,        ,.   •         i  • 

marvel  at  the  apparent  length  ot  its  duration. 
Thus  it  is  that,  in  travelling,  a  month  seems  to  pass  more  rapidly 
than  a  week ;  but  cast  a  retrospect  upon  what  has  occurred,  and 
occupied  our  attention  during  the  interval,  and  the  month  appears 
to  lengthen  to  a  year.     Hence  we  exjilain  why  we  call  our  easy 

occupations  pastimes  ^'   and  why  play  is  so  en- 


I'astimes. 


gaging  when  it  is  at  all  deep.     Games  of  hazard 


Games  of  chance  and  v    ,  •  x*  i      i  i 

tietermine  a  continual  change,  ^  now  Ave  hope, 

and  now  we  fear ;   while  in  games  of  skill,  we 

experience  also  the  pleasure  which  arises  from  the  activity  of  the 

understanding,  in  carrying  through  our  own,  and  in  frustrating  the 

plan  of  our  antagonist. 

All  that  relieves  tedium,  by  affording  a  change  and  an  easy  exer- 
cise for  our  thoughts,  causes  pleasure.     The  best 

Tedium,  how  cured.  />    .     t  •  ^-  i  •    i      i 

cure  of  tedium  is  st)me  occupation  Avhicli,  by 
cencentrating  our  attention  on  external  objects,  shall  divert  it  from 
a  retortion  on  ourselves.  All  occupation  is  either  labor  or  play  ; 
labor  when  there  is  some  end  ulterior  to  the  activity,  play  when  the 
activity  is  for  its  own  sake  .done.  In  both,  however,  there  must  1)0 
ever  and  .uion  a  change  of  object,  or  both  will  soon  grow  tiresoiiic. 
Labor  is  thus  the  best  preventive  of  tedium,  Wn-  it  lia-;  an  external 
motive  Avhich  holds  us  steadfast  to  ilie  work:  while  atU*r  the  oom- 
wletion  of  our  task,  t!ie  tceliiig  of  repose,  as  the  cJi.ingc  from  the 

78 


618  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLV 

feeling  of  a  constrained  to  that  of  a  spontaneous  state,  affords  a 
vivid  and  peculiar  pleasure.  Labor  must  alternate  with  repose,  or 
we  shall  never  know  what  is  the  true  enjoyment  of  life. 

Thus  it  appears  that  a  uniform  continuity  in  our  internal  states  is 
•gainful,  and  that  pleasure  is  the  result  of  their  commutation.     It  is, 

however,  to  be  observed,  that  the  change  of  our 
The  change  of  our  per-       perceptions  and   thoughts  to  be   pleasing  must 

ceptioiis  aud  thoughts  ,  .,.,.  , 

to  be  pleasing  must       "^^  '^^  ^^^  rapid ;  for  as  the  intervals,  when  too 

»ot  be  too  rapid.  long,  produce  the  feeling  of  Tedium,  so,  when 

,..,,.  too  short,  they  cause  that  of  Giddiness  or  Ver- 

(jiduiness.  '  •' 

tigo.      The  too  rapid  passing,  for  example,  of 
visible  objects  or  of  tones  before  the  Senses,  of  images  before  the 
Phantasy,  of  thoughts  before  the  Understanding,  occasions  the  dis- 
agreeable feeling  of  confusion  or  stupefaction, 
which,  in  individuals  of  very  sensitive  tempera- 
ment, results  in  Nausea,  —  Sickness.^ 

I  proceed  now  to  the  Speculative  Feelings  which  accompany  the 

energies  of  Imagination.      It  has  already  been 

b.  Sentiments  con-       ft-equgntly  Stated,  that   whatever   affords   to   a 

oomitant  of  Imagina-  j.  ./  ^  n  •,■, 

^jpjj  power  the  mean  ot  full  spontaneous  energy  is  a 

cause  of  pleasure ;  and  that  whatever  eithei 
represses  the  free  exertion  of  a  power,  or  stinmlates  it  into  strained 
activity,  is  the  cause  of  pain. 

I  shall  now  apply  this  law  to  the  Imagination.      Whatever,  in 

general,  focilitates  the  play  of  the  Imagination, 

Condition   of  the       is  felt  as  pleasing;  whatever  renders  it  more 

nieasurabie  applicable       aifficult  is  felt  as  displeasing.     And  this  applies 

to  Imagination,  both  _  ..  .-.  , 

as  Reproductive  and  equally  to  Imagination  considered  as  merely 
as  Plastic.  reproductive  of  the  objects  presented  by  sense, 

or  as  combining  these  in  the  phantastic  forms 
of  its  own  productive,  or  rather  plastic,  activity.     Considering  the 

Phantasy  merely  as  reproductive,  we  are  pleased 

As  Uniroduclive.  .,1,1  .       • ,        c  1  /» 

With  tlie  portrait  oi  a  person  whose  race  Ave 
know,  if  lik'e,  because  it  enables  us  to  recall  the  features  into  con- 
sciousness easily  and  freely;  and  we  are  displeased  with  it  if  unlike, 
because  it  not  only  does  not  assist,  but  thwarts  us  in  our  endeavor 
to  recall  them ;  while  after  this  has  been  accomplished,  we  are  still 
iiirther  pained  by  the  disharmony  we  experience  between  the  por- 
trait on  the  canvas  and  the  representation  in  our  own  imagination. 
A  ?yiort  and  characteristic  description  of  things  which  we  have 
seen,  pleases  us,  because,  without  exacting  a  protracted  effort  of 
attention,  and  through  a  few  striking  traits,  it  enables  the  imagina- 

1  See  Marcus  Herz,  Ub»r  dan  Schtoindel,  1791- 


lkct.  XLV.  metaphysics.  619 

tion  to  place  the  objects  vividly  before  it.  On  the  same  j)i-inciple, 
whatever  facilitates  the  reproduction  of  the  objects  which  have  been 
consigne<I  to  memory,  is  pleasurable ;  as  for  example,  resemblances, 
contrasts,  other  associations  with  the  passing  thought,  metre,  rhyme, 
symmetry,  appropriate  designations,  etc.  To  realize  an  act  of  imag- 
ination, it  is  necessary  that  we  grasp  up,  —  that 
An  act  of  iraagina-  we  com])rehend,  —  the  manifold  as  a  single 
tion  involves  the  com-  wliole :  an  objcct,  therefore,  which  does  not 
pre  ensiou     o        e       ^i1q^.  itsclf,  without  difficulty,  to  be  thus  repre- 

maniiold   as  a  single  '      _  .  . 

•whole.  sented   in    unity,  occasions   pain ;    whereas   an 

object  which  can  easily  be  recalled  to  system, 
iS  the  cause  of  pleasure.  Tlie  former  is  the  case  when  the  object 
7S  too  large  or  too  complex  to  be  perceived  at  once  ;  when  the  parts 
are  not  prominent  enough  to  be  distinctly  impressed  upon  the  mem- 
ory. Order  and  symmetry  facilitate  the  acts  of  Reproduction  and 
Representation,  and,  consequently,  alFurd  us  a  proportional  gratifi- 
cation.    But,  on  the  other  hand,  as  pleasure  is  in  proportion  to  the 

amount  of  free  energy,  an  object  ■which  gives  no 
The    Beautiful    in       impediment  to  the  comi)rehensive  energy  of  Im- 

objects  constituted  by  .         .  ,     ,  ,  i  i        •,.'  •      i 

...       ..  aufination,  may   not   be  ])leasurable,  it   it   be  so 

variety  in  unity.  o  '  j  i  ' 

simple  as  not  to  afford  to  this  iaculty  a  sufficient 

exercise.     Hence  it  is,  that  not  variety  alone,  and  not  unity  alone, 

but  variety  combined  with  unity,  is  that  quality  in  objects,  which 

we  emphatically  denominate  beautiful. 

/vs  to  what  is  called  the  Productive  or  Creative  Imagination,  — 

this  is  dependent  for  its  materials  on  the  Senses 

Office  of  the  riastic       and   OH   the    Reproductive    Imagination.       The 

magination     to    re-       Imairinatiun  i»roduces,  the  Imagination  creates, 
construct    and     rear-  . 

,„„ge  nothing;    it    only    rearranges    parts,  —  it    only 

builds  up  old  materials  into  new  forms ;  and  in 
reterence  to  this  act,  it  ought,  tlierefore,  to  be  called,  not  the  pro- 
ductive or  creative,  but  the  ^j>^a.s'^ic.'     Now  this 
This  reconstruction       j-econstruction  of  materials  by  the  Plastic  Imag- 
mation  is  twofold;  for  it  either  arranges  tliem 
in  one   representation,  or   in  a   series  of  representations.      Of  the 
pleasure   Ave   receive    tVoiu   single   representations,   I    have    already 
spoken  ;  it,  therefore,  only  remains  to  consider  the  enjoyment  we 
find  in  the  activity  of  imagination,  in  .^^o  f:ir  as  this  is  excited  in 
concatenating  a  series  of  representations.     I  do  not  at  present  speak 
of  any  pleasure  or  pain   which  the  contents  of  these  concatenated 
representations  may  jiroduce;  tlie.se  are  not  feelings  of  imagination, 
but  of  aj)petency  or  conation;  I  have  here  exclusively  in  view  the 

1  See  above.  lect    xxxiii   p.  452.  — Ed. 


620  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLV 

feelings  which  accompany  the  facilitated,  or  impeded,  energy  of  tliis. 
function  of  the  phantasy.     Now  it  is  manifest  that  a  series  of  rep- 
resentations are  pleasing:  —  1°,  In  proportion  as 
Conditions  of  the       ^^       severally  call  up  in  us  a  more  varied  and 

pleasurable,  as  regards         ,  .  ; 

the  Understanding.  harmonious  mi  age  ;    and,   2\  In  proportion   as 

they  stand  to  each  other  in  a  logical  dependence. 
This  latter  is,  however,  a  condition  not  of  the  Imagination,  but  of 
the  Understanding  or  Elaborative  Faculty;  and,  therefore,  befoi-e 
speaking  of  those  feelings  which  accompany  the  joint  energies  of 
these  faculties,  it  Avill  l)e  proper  to  consider  those  which  arise  from 
the  operations  of  the  Understanding  by  itself.  To  the«e,  therefore,, 
I  now  pass  on. 

The  function  of  the  Understanding  may,  in  general,  be  said  ta 
bestow  on  the  cognitions  which  it  elaborates,. 

Function  of  the Un-         .-,  ,       ,  .^,  ,  , 

,  ^      ^.^  the  greatest   possible   compass    (comprehension 

and  extension),  the  greatest  possible  clearness 
and  distinctness,  the  greatest  possible  certainty,  and  systematic 
order;  and  in  as  much  as  we  approximate  to  the  accomi:)lishment 
of  these  ends,  we  experience  })leasure,  in  as  much  as  we  meet  with, 
hindrances  in  our  attempts,  we  experience  pain.  The  tendency,  the 
desire  we  have,  to  amplify  the  limits  of  our  knowledge,  is  one  of 
the  strongest  ])rinciples  of  human  nature.  To  learn  is  thus  pleas- 
urable ;  to  be  frustrated  in  our  attempted  knowledge,  ])ainful. 

Obscurity  and  confusion  in  our  cognitions  we  feel  as  disagree- 
able ;   whereas  their  clearness  and  distinctness 
Obscure  and  con-       aifords  US  sincere  gratification.     We  are  pained 

fused       cognitions,—         i^i  j  iit  !.•• 

.       ,.  .,  by  a  hazy  and  perplexed  discourse;  but  reioice 

how  disagreeable.  j  j  i       i  j  j 

in  one  perspicuous  and  profound.  Hence  the 
pleasure  we  experience  in  having  the  cognitions  we  possessed,  but 
darkling  and  confused,  explicated  into  life  and  order;  and,  on  this 
account,  there  is  hardly  a  more  pleasing  object  than  a  tabular  con- 
spectus of  any  complex  whole.     We  are  soothed  by  a  solution  of  a 

riddle  ;  and  the  wit  which,  like  a  flash  of  light- 

Wit,  — how  pleasing.  .  •      -i      •*•       u    *  l,-      *         i  •    t 

ning,  discovers  similarities  between  objects  which 
seemed  contradictory,  affc)rds  a  still  intenser  enjoyment. 

Our  cognitions  may  be  divided  into  two  classes,  —  the  Empirical 

or  Historical,  and  the  Rational.     In  the  former 

Cognitions  divided       wc  ouly  apprehend  the  fact  that  they  are ;  in 

Into    two    classes,—       .j-j^g  latter,  Ave  comprehend  the  reason  why  they 

Kmpirical      and     Ua-  ^i-n         tt     i  t  i  />  t 

jj^jjj^j  are.       Ihe    Understanding,  tnereiore,  does  not 

for  each  demand  "the  same  kind  or  degree  of 
knowledge ;  but  in  each,  if  its  demand  be  successful,  we  are 
pleased;  if  unsuccessful,  we  are  chagrined. 


Lkct.  XLV.  METAPHYSICS.  621 

From  the  tendency   of  men   towards  knowledge  and   certainty, 
tliere  arises  a  peculiar  feeling  whicli  is  commonly  called  the  Feel- 
ing or  Sentiment  of  Truth,  but  might  be  more 
Sentiment  of  Trutii,       correctly   Styled   the   Feeling   or   Sentiment   of 
—  w  la  ,     an  w       Convictiou.     For  we  must  not  mistake  this  feel- 

j)leasurable. 

ing  for  the  faculty  by  which  we  discriminate  truth 
from  error ;  this  feeling,  as  merely  subjective,  can  determine  nothing 
in  regard  to  truth  and  error,  which  are,  on  the  contrary,  of  an 
objective  relation  ;  and  there  are  found  as  many  examples  of  men 
"who  have  died  the  confessors  of  an  error  they  mistook  for  truth,  as 
of  men  who  have  laid  down  their  lives  in  testimony  of  the  real 
txiuh.  "Every  opinion,"  says  Montaigne,*  "is  strong  enough  to 
have  had  its  martyrs."  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  the  feeling  of 
conviction  is  a  pleasurable  sentiment,  because  it  accompanies  the 
consciousness  of  an  unimpeded  energy;  "whereas  the  counter-feel- 
ing,—  tliat  of  doubt  or  uncertainty,  is  a  painful  sentiment,  because 
ic  attends  a  consciousness  of  a  thwarted  activity.  The  uneasy 
feelinf'  which  is  thus  the  concomitant  of  doubt,  is  a  powerful  stim- 
\ilus  to  the  extension  and  perfecting  of  our  knowleilge. 

The   multitude,  —  the   multifarious   character,  —  of  the    objects 

j)resented  to  our  observation,  stands  in  signal 
(ieneraiization  and       contrast  with  the  Very  limited  capacity  of  the 

'jneciuCS'./on,   —  how         ■■  •    ^    n      ^        'Pi  •*      t  i.'  i      • 

Ininjan  nitellect.      1  Jus  ilisnroportion  constrams 

j)lea?v.raDle.  •  _  _  *       '  _ 

us  to  classify;  that  is,  by  a  comparison  of  the 
objects  of  sense  to  reduce  these  to  notions;  on  these  primary 
notions  we  rejieat  the  comparison,  and  thus  carry  them  up  into 
I'ligher,  and  these  higher  into  highest,  notions.  This  process  is  per- 
lornied  by  that  function  of  the  Understanding,  which  aj>prehends 
resemblances;  and  hence  originate  sj^ecies  and  genera  in  all  their 
gradations.  In  this  detection  of  the  similarities  between  different 
ohjects,  an  energy  of  the  understanding  is  fully  and  freely  exerted; 
and  hence  results  ajtleasure.  But  as  in  these  classes, — these  gen- 
eral notions,  —  the  knowledge  of  individual  existences  loses  in  ])re- 
cision  and  completeness,  Ave  again  endeavor  to  Hnd  out  ditferences 
in  the  things  which  stand  inider  a  notion,  to  the  end  that  we  may 
^e  able  to  specify  and  in<lividualize  them.  This  counUi'-process  is 
performed  by  that  function  of  the  Understanding,  which  appre- 
nonds  dissimilarities  between  resembling  objects,  and  in  the  fr.l! 
and  free  exertion  of  this  energy  there  is  a  feeling  of  pleasure. 

The  Intellect   further  tiMuls   to   reduce   the   ]»ieceineal  and  frag- 
mentary cognitions  it  possesses,  to  a  systematic  whole,  in   other 

1  £j.viiji,  i.  ch.  xl.  —  En. 


622  METAPHYSICS.  :,ect.   XLV. 

words,  to  elevate  them  to  a  Science  ;  hence  the  pleasure  we  derive 

from  all  that  enables  us  with  ease  and  rapidity 
Science,— how  pleas-       ^^  survey  the  relation  of  complex  parts,  as  con' 

stitutinsT  the  members  of  one  organic  whole. 
The  Intellect,  from  the  necessity  it  has  of  thinking  of  everything 
as  the  result  of  some  higher  reason,  is  thus  de- 
Deduction  from  first       termined  to  attempt  the  deduction  of  every  ob- 

principles.  .  .   .         „  .         ,  .       .    ,         „^, 

ject  of  cognition  from  a  simple  principle.  W  hen. 
therefore,  we  succeed  or  seem  to  succeed  in  the  discovery  of  such  a 
principle,  we  feel  a  pleasure ;  as  we  feel  a  pain,  when  the  intellect  is 
frustrated  in  this  endeavor. 

To  the  feelings  of  pleasure  which  are  afforded  by  the  unimpeded 

energies  of  the  Understanding,  belongs,  likewise. 

Apprehension    of      the  gratification  we  find  in  the  apprehension  oi 

adaptation  of  Means       external  or  internal  adaptation  of  Means  to  Ends. 

to  Ends,  —  how  pleas-  .         ,,.  .  hi  •        i 

yi,^jjig  Human  intelligence  is  naturally  determined  tc 

propose  to  itself  an  end :  and,  in  the  considera- 
tion of  objects,  it  thus  necessarily  thinks  them  under  this  relation. 
If  an  object,  viewed  as  a  mean,  be  fitted  to  effect  its  end,  this  end  is 
either  an  external,  that  is,  one  which  lies  beyond  the  thing  itself,  in 
some  other  existence ;  or  an  internal,  that  is,  one  which  lies  within 

the  thing  itself,  and  consummates  its  own  exis- 

Ends  of  two  kinds,       tcncc.     If  the  end  be  external,  an  object  suited 

-external  and  inter-       ^^  accomplish  it  Is  Said  to  be  useful.     If,  again, 

nal.    Hence  the  Dse-  i    i         •  i  i       n      i  pi 

fui  and  the  Perfect.  ^"®   ^"^^   "^  internal,  and  all  the  parts  oi  the 

object  be  viewed  in  relation  to  their  whole  as  to 
their  end,  an  object,  as  suited  to  effect  this  end,  is  said  to  h^  perfect. 
If,  therefore,  we  consider  an  object  in  reference  either  to  an  exter- 
nal or  to  an  internal  end,  and  if  this  object  be  recognized  to  fulfil 
the  conditions  which  this  relation  implies,  the  act  of  thought  in 
which  this  is  accomplished  is  an  unimpeded,  and,  consequently,  pleas- 
urable energy;  whereas  the  act  of  cognizing  that  these  conditions 
are  awanting,  and  the  object  therefore  ill  adapted  to  its  end,  is  a 
thwarted,  and  therefore  a  painful,  energy  of  thought. 


LECTURE    XL  VI. 

THE  FEELINGS.  —  THEIR   CLASSES.  — THE  BEAUTIFUL  AND 

SUBLIME. 

After  terminating  the  consideration  of  the  Feelings  viewed  as 

Causes,  —  causes  of  Pleasure  and  Pain,  we  en- 
Recapitulation.  -    .  ,        _  ,    .      ,. 

tered,  in   our  last  Lecture,  on  their  discussion 

regarded  as  Effects,  —  effects  of  the  various  processes  jaf  conscious 
life.  In  this  latter  relation,  I  divided  them  into  two  great  classes, 
—  the  Sensations  and  Sentiments.  The  Sensations  are  those  feel- 
ings which  accompany  the  vital  processes  more  immediately  con- 
nected with  the  corporeal  organism.  The  Sentiments  are  those 
feelings  Avhich  accompany  the  mental  processes,  which,  if  not  wholly 
inorganic,  are  at  least  less  immediately  dependent  on  the  conditions  of 
the  nervous  system.  The  Sensations  I  again  subdivided  into  two 
orders,  —  into  those  which  accompany  the  action  of  the  five  Deter- 
minate Senses,  and  into  those  which  accompany,  or,  in  fact,  consti- 
tute the  manifestations  of  the  Indeterminate  or  Vital  Sense.  After 
a  slight  consideration  of  the  Sensations,  I  passed  on  to  the  Senti- 
ments. These  I  also  subdivided  into  ordeivs,  according  as  they  ac- 
company the  energies  of  the  Cognitive,  or  the  energies  of  the  Cona- 
tive,  Powers.  The  former  of  these  I  called  the  Contemplative, — 
the  latter,  the  Practical  Feelings  or  Sentiments.  Taking  the  for- 
mer,—  the  Contemplative,  —  into  discussion,  I  further  subdivided 
these  into  two  classes,  according  as  they  are  the  concomitants  of  the 
lower  or  Subsidiary,  or  of  the  higher  or  Elaborative  F'aculty  of  Cog- 
nition. The  sentiments  which  accompany  the  lower  or  Subsidiary 
P^K'ulties,  by  a  final  Subdivision,  I  distributed  into  those  of  tlu'  Fac- 
ulty of  Self-consciousness  and  into  those  of  the  Imagination, — 
referrinir  to  the  Imacrination  the  relative  facultv  of  Reproduction. 
I  ought  also  to  have  observed,  that,  as  the  Imagination  always  coop- 
erates in  every  act  of  complex  perception,  and,  in  fact,  bestows  on 
such  a  cognition  its  Avhole  unity,  under  the  Feelings  of  Imagination 
(or  of  Imagination  and  the  ITnderstanding  in  conjunction),  would 


624  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XL\a 

fall  to  be  considered  those  sentiments  of  pleasure  which,  in  the  per- 
ceptions of  sense,  we  receive  from  the  relations  of  the  objects  pre- 
sented. Under  the  Feelings  connected  with  the  energies  of  the 
Elaborative  Faculty  or  Understanding,  I  comprehended  those 
which  arise  from  the  gratification  of  the  Regulative  Faculty,  — 
Reason  or  Intelligence,  —  because  it  is  only  through  the  operations 
of  the  former  that  the  laws  of  the  latter  are  carried  into  effect.  In 
relation  to  Feelings,  the  two  faculties  may,  therefore,  be  regarded 
as  one.  I  then  proceeded  to  treat  of  the  several  kinds  of  Contem- 
plative Feeling  .in  detail;  and,  before  the  conclusion  of  the  Lecture, 
had  run  rapidly  through  those  of  Self-consciousness,  those  of  Imag- 
ination, considered  apart  from  the  Understand- 
Feeiings  that  arise  ing,  and  thosc  of  the  Understanding,  consid- 
from  the  Imagination       ^^.^^  ^  ^^.^^^  Imagination.      We  have  now, 

and  Understanding  in  ^  •  n  i        r>     i 

conjunction.  therefore,  in  the  first  place,  to  consider  the  feel- 

ings which  arise  from  the  a(;ts  of  Imagination 
and  Understanding  in  conjunction. 

The  feelings  of  satisfiction  which  result  from  the  joint  energy  of 
the  Understanding  and  Phantasy,  are  principally 
_^Beauty  and  Subiim-  ^^^^^^  ^^  Beauty  and  Sublimity ;  and  the  judg- 
ments which  pronounce  an  object  to  be  sublime, 
beautiful,  etc.,  are  called,  by  a  metaphorical  expression.  Judgments 
of  Taste.  These  have  been  also  styled  ^sthetical  Judgments ; 
and  the  term  ceslhetical  has  now,  especially  among  the  philosophers 
of  Germany,  nearly  superseded  the  term  taste.  Both  terms  are 
unsatisfactory. 

The  gratification  we  feel  in  the  beautiful,  the  sublime,  the  pictur- 
esque, etc.,  is  purely  contemplative,  that  is,  the  feeling  of  pleasure 
which  we  then  experience,  arises  solely  from  the  consideration  of 
the  object,  and  altogether  apart  from  any  desire  of,  or  satisfaction  in, 
its  possession.  In  the  following  observations,  it  is  almost  needless 
to  observe,  that  I  can  make  no  attempt  at  more  than  a  simple  indi- 
cation of  the  origin  of  the  pleasure  we  derive  from  the  contempla- 
tion of  those  objects,  which,  from  the  character  of  the  feelings  they 
determine,  are  called  beautiful,  sublime,  etc. 

In  relation  to  the  Beautiful,  this  has  been  distinguished  into  the 

Free  or  Absolute,  and  into  the  Dependent  or 

Beauty  distinguished       Relative.'      In  the  former  case,  it  is  not  neces- 

as  Absolute  and  Rela-  ^       ■,  .  c       ^     ^   j.\.        i,-      ^  \  4. 

^.yg  sary  to  have  a  notion  oi  what  the  object  ought 

to  be,  before  we  pronounce  it  beautiful  or  not ; 
in  the  latter  case,  such  a  previous  jiotion  is  required.     Flowers, 

*  See  Hutchcson,  Inquiry,  treatise  i.  sects.  2,  4.  —  Ed. 


k 


Lect.  XLYL  metaphysics  025 

shells,  arabesques,  etc.,  are  freely  or  absolutely  beautiful.  We 
judge,  for  example,  a  flower  to  be  beautiful,  though  unaware  of  its 
tU'stination,  and  that  it  contains  a  complex  apparatus  of  organs  all 
admirably  adapted  to  the  propagation  of  the  jilant.  When  we  are 
made  cognizant  of  this,  we  obtain,  indeed,  an  additional  gratifica- 
tion, but  one  wholly  different  from  that  which  we  experience  in  the 
contemplation  of  the  flower  itself,  apart  from  all  consideration  of 
its  adaptations.  A  house,  a  pillar,  a  piece  of  furniture,  are  depend- 
ently  or  relatively  beautiful;  for  here  the  object  is  judged  beautiful 
by  reference  to  a  certain  end,  for  the  sake  of  which  it  exists.     This 

distinction,  which  is  taken  by  Kant^  and  others. 
This  distincuon  uu-       appears  to  me  u;isound.     For  Relative  Beauty 

is  only  the  confusion  of  two  elements,  which 
ought  to  have  been  kept  distinct.  There  is  no  doubt,  I  think,  that 
certain  objects  please  us  directly  and  of  themselves,  that  is,  no  ref- 
erence being  had  to  aught  beyond  the  form  itself  which  they 
exhibit.  These  are  things  of  themselves  beautiful.  Other  things, 
again,  please  us  not  directly  and  of  themselves,  that  is,  their  form 
])rcsents  nothing,  the  cognition  of  which  results  in  an  agreeable 
feeling.  But  these  same  things  may  please  indirectly  and  by  rela- 
tion ;  that  is.  when  we  are  informed  that  they  liave  a  purpose,  and 
are  made  aware  of  their  adaptation  to  its  accomplishment,  we  may 
derive  a  pleasure  from  the  admirable  relation  which  here  subsists 
between  the  end  and  means.     These  are  things  Useful.     But  the 

pleasure  which  results  from  the  contemplation 
The  Useful  and  the       ^^ ^j^^,  ^^^^^^.^j  j^  ^^1^^]]^.  different  from  that  which 

l?eaufiful  distiuct.  ,        -,  *  ,      •  r.     i       i  •  •  i 

results  from  the  contem|)lation  of  the  beautiful, 
and,  therefore,  they  ought  not  to  be  confounded.  It  may,  indeed, 
luvpjien  that  the  same  object  is  such  as  affords  us  both  kinds  of 
pleasure,  aii<l  it  may  at  once  be  beautiful  and  useful.  But  why,  on 
such  a  ground,  establish  a  second  series  of  beauty?     In  this  respect, 

St.  Augustin  shows  himself  superior  to  our  great 
St.  Aufiustiirs  doc-       modem  analyst.     In  his  Conjessiofin,  he  informs 

frine  on  this  i)oiiit  8U>-  *i     i    i        i'     i  -^^  i         i      /        r     *  .    i 

.         .  us  that   he  had    written  a    book  (uiifortunatelv 

|)crior  to  the  modern.  _  ^ 

lost),  addressed  to  Ilierius,  the  Kom.m  rheto- 
rician, under  the  title  De  Apto  et  Pulcro,  in  which  he  maintained, 
that  the  be.-iutiful  is  that  which  pleases  absolutely  and  of  itself,  the 
well-ada])ted  that  which  pleases  from  its  accommodation  to  some- 
thing else.  "  Pulcrum  esse,  quod  per  se  ipsuin ;  aptum,  autem, 
quod  ad  aliquid  accommodatum  deceret."- 

1  Partially,  perhaps;  see  Krilik  drr  Vrtheils-      he  refers  both  to  the   faculty  of  Judgment 
Icrafi,    H     6,    10.       But    Kant    di.xtinKui.<h<',<      —  Kd 
Beauty  from  Adaptation  to  an  Knd,  though  -  Lib.  iv.  cup.  xv.  —  Ed. 

79 


'• 


'^ 


626  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLVt 

Now  what  has  been   distinguished  as   Dependent   or   Rehitivo 

Beauty,  is  notliing  more  than  a  beautified  util- 

Reiative  Beauty  is       j^y^  q,.  -j  utilized  beauty.     For  exanijile,  a  pillar 

only  a  beautified  util-         .    ,  i       -^      ij?         j  i.   r-  n  •  i        j.- 

.  ...    , .  taken  by  itseli  and  apart  irora  all  consideration 

ity,  or  utilized  beauty.  . 

of  any  purpose  it  has  to  serve,  is  a  beautiful 
object ;  and  u  person  of  good  taste,  and  ignorant  of  its  relations, 
would  at  once  pronounce  it  so.  But  when  he  is  informed  that  it  is 
«lso  a  mean  towards  an  end,  he  Avill  then  find  an  additional  satisfac- 
tion in  the  observation  of  its  perfect  adaptation  to  its  purpose ;  and 
he  will  no  longer  consider  the  pillar  as  something  beautiful  and  use- 
less; his  taste  will  desiderate  its  application,  and  will  be  shocked 
at  seeing,  as  we  so  often  see,  a  set  of  columns  stuck  on  upon' a  build- 
ing, and  sui)porting  nothing.  Be  this,  however,  as  it  may,  our 
pleasure,  in  both  cases,  arises  fi'om  a  free  and  full  play  being  allowed 
to  our  cognitive  faculties.     In  the  case  of  Beauty,  —  Free  Beauty, 

—  both  the  Imagination  and  the  Understanding 
e     eory  o      ree       ^^^  occupation  I    and  the  pleasure  we  experi- 

or  Absolute  Beauty.  ^  '  ...  .  . 

ence  from  such  an  object,  is  in  proportion  a?  it 
afiEbrds  to  these  faculties  the  opportunity  of  exerting  fully  and 
freely  their  respective  energies.  Now,  it  is  the  principal  function 
of  the  Understanding,  out  of  the  multifarious  presented  to  it,  to 
form  a  Avhole.  Its  entire  activity  is,  in  fact,  a  tendency  towards 
unity ;  and  it  is  only  satisfied  when  this  object  is  so  constituted  as 
to  afford  the  opportunity  of  an  easy  and  perfect  pei*formance  of 
this  its  function.  In  this  case,  the  object  is  judged  beautiful  or 
pleasing. 

The  greater  the  number  of  the  parts  of  any  object  given  by  the 
Imagination,  which  the  Understanding  has  to  bind  up  into  a  whole, 
and  the  shorter  the  time  in  which  it  is  able  to  bring  this  process  to 
its  issue,  the  more  fully  and  the  more  easily  does  the  understanding 
energize,  and,  consequently,  the  greater  will  be  the  pleasure  afforded 
as  the  reflex  of  its  energy.^ 

This  not  only  affords  us  the  rationale  of  what  the  Beautiful  is, 

but  it  also  enables  us  to  exj)lain  the  differences 

The  theory  explains       of  different  individuals  in  the  apprehension  of 

the  differences  of  indi-       ^^^^  beautiful.     The  function  of  the  Uiiderstan<l- 

viduals  in  the  appre-         .         .     .        ,,  ,  tit  i 

hension  of  the  Beauti-       |"g  ^^  m  all  men  the  same  ;  and  the  understand- 
fui.  ing  of  every  man  binds  up  what  is  given  as  plu- 

ral and  multifarious  into  the  unity  of  a  whole. 
But  as  it  is  only  the  full  and  facile  accomplishment  of  this  function, 

1  [Cf  Mendelssohn,  Philosophische  Schriften,  ii.   p.  74.     Hemsterhuis,   Lettre  sur  la    Scitlpturt 
^uvres  Pkilosophiques  I,  p.  2.] 


Lect.  XLVI.  metaphysics.  627 

which  has  pleasure  for  its  concomitant,  it  depends  wholly  on  the 
capacity  of  the  individual  understanding,  Avhethcr  this  condition 
Bhall  be  fulfilled.  If  an  understanding,  by  natural  constitution,  by 
cultivation  and  exercise,  be  vigorous  enough  to  think  up  rapidly 
into  a  whole  what  is  ))resented  in  complexity,  —  multi])licity,  —  the 
individual  has  an  enjoyment  in  the  exertion,  and  he  regards  the 
object  as  beautiful ;  whereas,  if  an  intellect  perform  this  function 
slowly  and  with  effort,  if  it  succeed  in  accomplishing  the  end  at  all, 
the  individual  can  feel  no  pleasure  (if  he  does  not  experience  pain), 
a-nd  th.e  object  must  to  him  appear  as  one  destitute  of  beauty,  if  not 
positively  ugly.  Hence  it  is  that  children,  boors,  in  a  word,  per- 
sons of  a  weak  or  uncultivated  mind,  may  find  the  parts  of  a  build- 
ir»g  beautiful,  while  unable  to  compreheml  the  beauty  of  it  as  a 

whole.     On  the  other  hand,   we   may  also  ex- 
And  affonis  the  rea-         .^^  ^j     ^^^  pleasure  we  have  in  the  contem- 

son  wliy  our  pleasure 

in -the  cntcmpiatiou  plation  of  an  object  IS  lessened,  if  not  wholly 
of  an  object  is  les-  annihilated,  if  we  mentally  analyze  it  into  its 
ser-Rd,  when  we  ana-       pj^j.jg      rpj^g  fairest  human  head  would  lose  its 

lyy'S  it  into  its  parts.  ,  l  •*.     •        *l  i  4.  l 

beauty  were  we  to  sunder  it  ni  thouglit,  and 
consider  how  it  is  made  up  of  integuments,  of  cellular  tissue,  of 
muscular  fibres,  of  bones,  of  brain,  of  blood-vessels,  etc.  It  is  no 
lowger  a  whole;  it  is  the  multifirious  without  unity.     In  reference 

to  Taste,  it  is  quite  a  different  thing  to  sunder  a 
Difference  between       whole  into  its  parts,  and  a  whole  into  its  lesser 

sunderinc  a  whole  in-  ,     1  t       ii  i  1       ^ 

wholes.      In  the  one  case,  we  separate  onlv  to 

to  its  parts,  and  into  .  '■ 

its  lesser  wholes.  Separate,   and    not    again   to   connect.      In    the 

other,  we  look  to  the  jiarts,  in  order  to  l)e  able 
in  a  shorter  time  more  perfectly  to  survey  the  whole.  This  must 
enhance  the  gratification,  and  it  is  a  pi'ocess  always  requisite'  when 
the  whole  coini)rises  a  more  multij)lex  jihuality  than  our  undci- 
standing  is  competent  to  embrace  at  the  first  attempt.  Wluii  a 
whole  head  is  found  too  complex  to  be  judged  at  once,  out  of  the 
brow,  eyes,  nose,  cheeks,  mouth,  etc.,  we  make  so  many  lessor 
wholes,  in  order,  in  the  first  place,  to  comprehend  them  by  the 
intellect  as  wholes  together;  we  then  bind  n\)  these  petty  wholes 
into  one  great  whole,  which,  in  a  shorter  or  longer  time,  we  over- 
look, and  awai'd  to  it  accordingly,  a  greater  or  a  less  amoiini  ot 
beauty. 

In  the  case  of  Relative  or  Dependent  Beauty, 
Relative     Reality,       ^p   must    distinguish    the    jtli-asurc    we    receive 

from    the  conformity  ..        ^  i-         i-i        11^  i.'i»*i 

„  ,  into   two,  combined    indeed,   but   not    i(lt'?itical. 

of  Mean  to  End.  '  '        ,  ^ 

The  one  of  these  pleasures  is  that  from  the 
beauty  which    the    object    contains,    and    the    j>rineiple    of    which 


I 


628  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLW 

we  have  been  just  considering.  The  other  of  these  pleasures  is  that 
whicl),  in  our  last  Lecture,  we  showed  was  attached  to  a  perfect 
energy  of  the  Understanding,  in  thinking  an  object  under  the 
notion  of  conformity  as  a  mean  adapted  to  an  end. 

A  judgment  of  Taste  may  be  called  inire^  when  the  pleasure  it 

enounces  is  one  exclusively  derived  from  the 

•.u"  ^r*^"  ^  HT-  ^A        Beautiiul,  and  mixed,  when  with  this  pleasure 

«ither  Pure  or  Mixed.  '  _  '  ^  v   v, 

there  are  conjoined  feelings  of  pain  or  pleasure 
from  other  sources.  Such,  for  example,  are  the  organic  excitation.s 
of  particular  colors,  tones,  etc.,  emotions,  the  moral  feeling,  the  feel- 
ing of  pleasure  from  the  sublime,  etc.  It  requires  a  high  cultiva- 
tion of  the  taste  in  order  to  find  gratification  in  a  pure  beauty,  and 
also  to  separate  from  our  judgment  of  an  object,  in  this  respect,  all 
that  is  foreign  to  this  source  of  pleasure.  The  uncultivated  man  at 
first  finds  gratification  only  in  those  qualities  which  stimulate  his 
organs;  and  it  is  only  gradually  that  he  can  be  educated  to  pay 
attention  to  the   form  of  objects,  and    to   find   pleasure  in  what 

lightly  exercises  his  faculties  of  Imagination 
e     eau  1  u     e-       and  Thought, — the  Beautiful.    The  result,  then, 

fined.  o      '  ^      ^  11 

of  what  has  now  been  said  is,  that  a  thing  beau- 
tiful is  one  whose  form  occupies  the  Imagination  and  Understand- 
ing in  a  free  and  full,  and,  consequently,  in  an  agreeable,  activity : 
and  to  this  definition  of  the  Beautiful  all  others  may  without  diffi- 
culty be  reduced ;  for  these,  like  the  definitions  of  the  pleasurable, 
are  never  absolutely  fiilse,  but,  in  general,  only  partial  expressions 
of  the  truth.  On  these  it  is,  however,  at  present  impossible  to 
touch. 

The  feeling  of  pleasure  in  the   Sublime  is  essentially  different 

from  our  feeling  of  pleasure  in  the  Beautiful. 
The  Sublime, -the       rpj^^  beautiful  awakcns  the  mind  to  a  soothing 

feeling  partly  pleasur-  .  i  i  i-  • 

^i3ig  contemplation ;  the  subhme  rouses  it  to  strong 

emotion.  The  beautiful  attracts  without  repel- 
ling ;  whereas  the  sublime  at  once  does  both ;  the  beautiful  affords 
lis  a  feeling  of  unmingled  pleasure,  in  the  full  and  unimpeded  activ- 
ity of  our  cognitive  powers;  whereas  our  feeling  of  sublimity  is  a 
mingled  one  of  pleasure  and  j^ain,  —  of  pleasure  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  strong  energy,  of  pain  in  the  consciousness  that  this 
energy  is  vain. 

But  as  the  amount  of  pleasure  in  the  sublime  is  greater  than  the 

amount  of  pain,  it  follows,  that  the  free  energy 

eory  o      e    u  -       ^^  elicits  must  bd  greater  than  the  free  enersry 

lime.  _  ^  ='•' 

it  rej>els.  The  beautiful  has  reference  to  the 
form  of  an  object,  and  the  facility  with  which  it  is  comprehended. 


Lect.  XLVI.  METAPHYSICS.  629 

For  beauty,  magnitude  is  thus  an  irni)e(liment.  Sublimity,  on  the 
contrary,  requires  magnitude  as  its  condition  ;  and  the  formless  is 
not  unfrequently  sublime.  That  we  are  at  once  attracted  and  re- 
pelled by  sublimity,  arises  from  the  circumstance  that  the  olyect 
which  we  call  sublime,  is  proportioned  to  one  of  our  faculties,  and 
disproportioned  to  another;  but  as  the  degree  of  })leasure  transcemls 
the  degree  of  pain,  the  power  whose  energy  is  promoted  must  be 
superior  to  that  power  whose  enei'gy  is  repressed. 

The  sublime  has  been  divided  into  two  kinds,  the  Theoretical 
and  the  Practical,  or  as  they  are  also  called,  the 

The  Sublime, -di-       Mathematical  and   the  Dynamical.*     A  prefer- 

rided  into  that  of  Ex-  ,,,...  iii  t  i  , 

,     ,         -.   .     .  able  division  would  be  accoi-diiijj:  to  the  three 

teu^ioii,      I'roteusion,  _  » 

and  Intension.  quantities,  —  into  the  sublime  of  Extension,  the 

sublime  of  Protension,  and  the  sublime  of  In- 
tension ;  or,  what  comes  to  the  same  thing,  —  the  sublime  of  Sj)ace, 
the  sublime  of  Time,  and  the  sublime  of  Power.    In  the  two  former 

the  cognitive,  in  the  last  the  conative,  powers 

These  divisions  iiius-       come  into  play.      An  object  is  extensively,  or 

*'"^'^'^'  protensively  sublime,  when  it  comprises  so  great 

Tlie  Sublime  of  Ex-         ^  ,   ■       -,         n  ,  ,       t  •         •  •    , 

tension  «ud  I'roten-  ^  multitude  ot  parts  that  tiic  Imagination  sinks 
sion.  under  the  attemi)t  to  i-epresent  it  in  an  image, 

and  the  Understanding  to  measure  it  bv  refer- 
ence  to  other  quantities.  BafHed  in  the  attempt  to  reduce  the 
object  within  the  limits  of  the  faculties  by  which  it  must  be  com- 
prehended, the  mind  at  once  desists  from  the  ineffectual  eftbrt,  and 
conceives  the  object  not  by  a  positive,  but  by  a  negative,  nution  ; 
it  conceives  it  as  inconceivable,  and  falls  liack  into  repose,  which  is 
felt  as  pleasing  by  contrast  to  the  continuance  ot"  a  lbrce<l  and  im- 
peded energy.  Examples  of  the  sublime,  —  of  this  sudden  eftbrt, 
and  of  this  instantaneous  desisting  from  the  attempt,  are  manifested 
in  the  extensive  sublime  of  Space,  and  in  tiie  protensive  sublime 
of  Eternity. 

An  object  is  intensively  sublime,  when  it  involves  such  a  degree 

of  force  or  power  that  the  Imagination  cainiot 

The   sublime   of  In-  .  *  i    ^i        i-^      i        .         r 

at  once  rejux'sent,  and  the  L  nderstandini;  can- 
tension.  .       '  ■-  .      . 

not  bring  under  measure,  the  (juantum  of  thi.s 
force;  and  when,  from  the  nature  of  the  object,  tlie  inability  of  the 
mind  is  made  at  once  apparent,  so  that  it  does  not  proceed  in  the 
ineftl'ctual  eftbrt,  but  at  once  calls  back  its  energies  from  the  att<.'nipt. 
It  is  thus  manifest  that  the  feeling  of  the  sublime  will  be  one  of 
mingled  j)aiu  and  pleasure;  pleasin-e  from  the  vigorou>i  exertion  -in J 

!  Knut,  Kritile  der  VrtluilskrnJX ,  f  'i4  et  irq.  —  Ed. 


630  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XL VI 

from  the  instantaneous  repose;  pain,  from  the  consciousness  of  limited 
and  frustrated  activity.  This  mixed  feeling  in  the  contemplation 
of  a  sublime  object  is  finely  expressed  by  Lucretius  when  he  says: 

"  Me  quaedam  divina  voluptas, 
Percipit  atque  liorror."  i 

I  do  not  know  a  better  example  of  the  sublime,  in  all  its  thre* 
forms,  than  in  the  following   passage  of  Kant :  - 

"  Two  things  there  are,  which,  the  oftener  and  the  more  stead- 
fastly we  consider,  fill  the  mind  with   an  ever 
The  Sublime,  in  its       new,  an  cvcr  rising  admiration  and  reverence ; 

three  forms,  exempli-  _  ^J^^  StARRY  HeavEN  uhovC,  the  MoRAL  LaW 
tied  in  a  passage  from  r\i^        •  t  t 

jjjj,,,  within.     Of  neither  am  I  compelled  to  seek  out 

the  reality,  as  veiled  in  darkness,  or  only  to  con- 
jecture the  possibility,  as  beyond  the  hemisphere  of  my  knowledge. 
Both  I  contemplate  lying  clear  before  me,  and  connect  both  imme- 
diately with  my  consciousness  of  existence.  The  one  departs  from 
the  place  I  occupy  in  the  outer  world  of  sense ;  expands,  beyond 
the  bounds  of  imagination,  this  connection  of  my  body  with  worlds 
lying  beyond  worlds,  and  systems  blending  into  systems ;  and  pro- 
tends it  also  into  the  illimitable  times  of  their  periodic  movement, 
—  to  its  commencement  and  continuance.  The  other  departs  from 
my  invisible  self,  from  my  personality  ;  and  represents  me  in  a 
world,  truly  infinite  indeed,  but  whose  infinity  can  be  tracked  out 
only  by  the  intellect,  with  which  also  my  connection,  unlike  the 
fortuitous  relation  I  stand  in  to  all  worlds  of  sense,  I  am  compelled 
to  recognize  as  universal  and  necessary.  In  the  former  the  first 
view  of  a  countless  multitude  of  worlds  annihilates,  as  it  were,  my 
importance  as  an  animal  2>''odiict^  which,  after  a  brief  and  that 
incomprehensible  endowment  with  the  powers  of  life,  is  compelled 
to  refund  its  constituent  matter  to  the  planet  —  itself  an  atom  in 
the  universe  —  on  which  it  grew.  The  aspect  of  the  other,  on  the 
contrary,  elevates  my  worth  as  an  intelligence  even  without  limit ; 
and  this  through  my  personality,  in  which  the  moral  law  reveals  a 
faculty  of  life  independent  of  my  animal  nature,  nay,  of  the  whole 
material  world  :  —  at  least,  if  it  be  permitted  to  infer  as  much  from 
the  regulation  of  my  being,  which  a  conformity  with  that  law 
exacts;  proposing,  as  it  does,  my  moral  worth  for  the  absolute  end 
of  my  activity,  conceding  no  compromise  of  its  imperative  to  a 
necessitation  of  nature,  and  spurning,  in  its  infinity,  the  conditions 
and  boundaries  of  my  present  transitory  life." 

1  iii.  28.  —  Ed  2  Kritik  tier  practischen  Vemun/t,  Beschlusa.  —  Ed. 


Lect.  XL VI.  METAPHYSICS.  '     631 

"  Spirat  cnim  majora  animus  seque  altius  effort 
Sidcribus,  transitquc  vias  et  nuhila  fati, 
Et  momenta  preniit  pcdibus  quaieunqiic  putantur 
Fif^ere  piopcsitani  natali  tempore  sortcm."i 

Here  wo  have  the  extensive  sublime  in  the  heavens   and  their 
interminable  space,  the  protensive  sublime  in  their  illimitable  dura- 
tion, and  the  intensive  sublime  in  the  omnipotence  of  the  human 
will,  as  manifested  in  the  unconditional  imperative  of  the  moral  law. 
The  Picturesque,  however,  opposite  to  the  Sublime,  seems,  in  my 
opinion,  to  stand  to  the  Beautiful  in  a  somewhat 
The  Picturcs(|uc,—       similar  relation.     An  object  is  positively  ugly, 

wherein    it    consist.,         ^^,|^(.„   j^  jg  ^f  g^^^j^  ^  f^j.^^j   ^j^j^j.  ^j^^,  Imaoination 
and     how    it     diflers  _^  '    . 

from  the  Sublime  and       ^"<^   U  uderstandnig  cannot  help  attemptnig  to 
Beautiful.  think  it  up  into  unity,  and  yet  their  energies  are 

still  so  impeded  that  they  either  fail  in  the  en- 
deavor, or  accomplish  it  only  ini])erfcctly,  after  time  and  toil.  The 
cause  of  this  continuance  of  effort  is,  that  the  object  does  not  pre- 
sent such  an  appearance  of  incongruous  variety  as  at  once  to  com- 
]>el  the  mind  to  desist  from  the  attempt  of  reducing  it  to  unity, 
but,  on  the  contrary,  leads  it  on  to  attempt  what  it  is  yet  unable  to 
])erform,  —  its  reduction  to  a  whole.  But  variety,  —  variety  even 
apart  from  unity, — is  pleasing;  and  if  the  mind  be  made  content  to 
expatiate  freely  and  easily  in  this  variety,  without  attempting  pain- 
fully to  reduce  it  to  unity,  it  will  derive  no  inconsiderable  pleasure 
from  this  exertion  of  its  powers.  Now  a  picturesque  object  is  pre- 
cisely of  such  a  character.  It  is  so  determinately  varied  and  so 
abrupt  in  its  variety,  it  ])resents  so  complete  a  negation  of  all  rounded 
contour,  and  so  regular  an  irregularity  of  broken  lines  and  angles, 
that  every  attempt  at  reducing  it  to  an  harmonious  whole  is  at  once 
found  to  be  impossible.  The  mind,  therefore,  which  niust  forego 
the  energy  of  representing  and  thinking  the  object  as  a  unity,  surren- 
ders itself  at  once  to  the  energies  which  deal  with  it  only  in  detail. 

I  proceed  now  to  those  feelings  which  I  denominated  Practical, 

—  those,  namely,  which  have  their  root  in  the 

The  Practical  Feel-       po^,^.,.^  ^^f  Conation,  and  thus  liave  reference  to 

overt  action. 
The  Conative,  like  the  Cognitive,  ]>owers  are  divided  into  a  higher 
an<l  a  lower  order,  as  thev  either  are,  or  are  not, 

Their  divi(<ioiis.  .  ■>•        %  i-  '  iti  !•• 

immediately  relative  to  our  bodily  condition. 
The  fonner  may  be  called  tlie  Pathological,  the  latter  the  Moral 

1  Frudcntius,  Conim  Sym.  ii.  479.     Quoted  in  Discussions,  p.  311.  —  Kd. 


t)32  METAPHYSICS.  Lect.  XLVl 

Neglecting  this  distribution,  the  Practical  Feelings  are  relative 
eitlier — 1°,  To  our  Self-preservation;  or,  2",  To  the  Enjoyment 
of  our  Existence ;  or,  3°,  To  the  Preservation  of  the  Species ;  or, 
4°,  To  our  Tendency  towards  Development  and  Perfection ;  or^ 
5°,  To  the  Moral  Law.     Of  these  in  their  order. 

In  the  first  place,  of  the  feelings  relative  to  Self-preservation  ;  — 

these  are  the  feelings  of  Hunger  and  Thirst,  of 

lose  re  a  ive  —  .       Loathing,  of  Sorrow,  of  Bodilv  Pain,  of  Repose, 

To  Self-preservation.  ,  .     ' 

of  Fear  at  danger,  of  Anxiety,  of  Shuddering, 
of  Alarm,  of  Composure,  of  Security,  and  the  nameless  feeling  at 
the  Representation  of  Death.  Several  of  these  feelings  are  corpo- 
real, and  may  be  considered,  with  equal  2>ropriety,  as  modifications 
of  the  Vital  Sense. 

In  the  second  place,  man  is  determined  not  only  to  exist,  but  to 

exist  well ;  he  is,  therefore,  determined  also  to 

-.   .njojmen  o  ex-       (jgsire  whatever  tends  to  render  life  agreeable, 

istence.  °     _  ' 

and  to  eschew  whatever  tends  to  render  it  dis- 
agreeable. All,  therefore,  that  appears  to  contribute  to  the  former, 
causes  in  him  the  feeling  of  Joy ;  whereas,  all  that  seems  to  threaten 
the  latter,  excites  in  him  the  repressed  feelings  of  Fear,  Anxiety, 
Sorrow,  etc.,  which  we  have  already  mentioned. 

In  the  third  place,  man    is  determined,  not  only  to  preserve  him- 
self, but  to  preserve  the  species  to  which  he  be- 

3.    Preservation    of        i  i        -^i      ^i  •      ^       j  •  r     i- 

longs,  and  with  this  tendency  various  ieelin<i:s 

the  species.  .  . 

are  associated.  To  this  head  belonof  the  feelinsrs 
of  Sexual  Love  ;  and  the  Sentiment  of  Parental  Affection.  But 
the  human  affections  are  not  limited  to  funily  connections.  "Man," 
says  Aristotle,  "is  the  sweetest  thing  to  man."^  Man  is  more  polit- 
ical than  any  bee  or  ant."^  We  liave  thus  a  tendency  to  social 
intercoui-se,  and  society  is  at  once  the  necessary  condition  of  our 
happiness  and  our  perfection.  "  The  solitary,"  says  Aristotle  again, 
"is  either  above  or  below  humanity  ;  he  is  either  a  god  or  a  beast."'^ 
In  conformity  with  his  tendency  to  social  existence,  man  is  en- 
dowed with  a  Svmpathetic  Feelino-,  that  is,  he 

Sympatliy.  .    .  .  ,      "       ^  =* 

rejoices  with  those  that  rejoice,  and  grieves  with 
those  that  grieve.  Compassion,  —  Pity,  —  is  the  name  given  to  the 
latter  modification  of  sympathy ;  the  former  is  without  a  definite 
name.     Besides  sympathetic  sorrow  and  sympathetic  joy,  there  are 

a  variety  of  feelings  which  have  reference  to  our 
^,'*'"  ^'  existence  in  a  social  relation.     Of  these  there  is 

Shame. 

that  connected  with  Vanity,  or  the  wish  to  please 
others  from  the  desire  of  being  respected  by  them ;    with  Shame, 

1  Eth.  Eud.  vii.  2,  26.  —  Ed.  2  Polit.  i.  2,  10.  —  Ed.  3  Polit.  i.  2, 9, 14.  —  ED 


Lect.  XL VI.  METAPHYSICS.  633 

or  the  fear  and  sorrow  at  incurring  their  disrespect ;  with  Pride,. 

or  tlie  overweenino;  sentiment  of  our  own  worth. 

Pride. 

To  tlie  same  class  we  may  refer  the  feelings  con- 
nected with  Indignation,  Resentment,  Anger,  Scorn,  etc. 

In  the  fourth  place,  there  is  in  man  implanted  a  desire  of  devel- 
oping his  powers,  —  there  is  a  tendency  towards 

4.    Tendency  to  de-  £■     i.-  t         •   ^  £•  j.\.'      i.\ 

periection.     in  vntue  oi  this,  the  consciousness 

velopnient.  ^ 

of  all  comj^arative  inability  causes  pain ;  the  con- 
sciousness of  all  comparative  power  causes  pleasure.     To  this  class 
belong  the  feelings  which  accompany  Emulation,  —  the  desire  oi 
rising  superior  to  others  ;  and  Envy,  —  the  desire  of  reducing  others 
beneath  ourselves. 

In  the  fifth  place,  we  are  conscious  that  there  is  in  m.in  a  Moral 
Law,  —  a  Law  of  Duty,  which  unconditionally 

5    Die  Moral  Law.  ^        ,         n,^,  r>  -        ,,  rr^ 

commands  the  lulnlment  of  its  behests.  'This- 
supposes,  that  we  are  able  to  fulfil  tliem,  or  our  nature  is  a  lie ;  and 
the  liberty  of  human  action  is  thus,  independently  of  all  direct  con- 
sciousness, involved  in  the  datum  of  the  Law  of  Duty.  Inasmuch 
also  as  Moral  Intelligence  unconditionally  commands  us  to  perform 
what  we  are  conscious  to  be  our  duty,  there  is  attributed  to  man  an 
absolute  worth,  —  an  absolute  dignity.  TJie  feeling  which  the  man- 
ifestation of  this  worth  excites,  is  called  Respect.  With  the  con- 
sciousness of  the  lofty  nature  of  our  moral  tendencies,  and  our 
ability  to  fulfil  what  the  law  of  duty  prescribes,  there  is  connected 
the  feeling  of  Self-respect;  whereas,  from  a  consciousness  of  the 
contrast  between  what  we  ought  to  do  and  what  we  actually  per- 
form, there  arises  the  feeling  of  Self-abasement.  The  sentiment  of 
respect  for  the  law  of  duty  is  the  Moral  Feeling,  which  has  by  some 
been  improperly  denominated  the  Moral  Sense  ;  for  through  this 
feeling  we  do  not  take  cognizance  whether  anything  be  morally 
good  or  morally  evil,  but  when,  by  our  intelligence,  we  recognize 
aught  to  be  of  such  a  character,  there  is  lierewith  associated  a  feel- 
ing of  pain  or  j)loasure,  which  is  nothing  more  than  our  state  in 
reference  to  the  fulfilment  or  violation  of  the  law. 

Man,  as  conscious  of  his  liberty  to  act,  and  of  the  law  by  which 
his  actions  ought  to  be  regulated,  recognizes  his  ])er8onal  accounta- 
bility, and  calls  himself  before  the  internal  tribunal  whicii  we  de- 
nominate Conscience.  Here  he  is  cither  aopiitted  or  condemne«L 
The  acquittal  is  connected  with  a  jieculiar  feeling  of  pleasurable 
exultation,  as  the  condemnation  Avith  a  peculiar  feeling  of  painful 
humiliation,  —  Remorse. 

80 


APPENDIX. 


L  A.  — FRAGMENT    ON   ACADEmCAL   HONORS.— (1836  > 

(See  p.  13.) 

Before  commencing  the  Lecture  of  to-day,  I  wouki  occupy  a  few  minutes 
with  a  matter  in  which  I  am  confident  you  generally  feel  an  interest ;  —  I  refef 
to  the  Academical  Honors  to  be  awarded  to  those  who  approvi;  their  zeal  and 
ability  in  the  business  of  the  Class.  After  what  I  formerly  had  occasion  to 
say,  1  conceive  it  wholly  unnecessary  now  to  attempt  any  jnoof  of  the  fact, — 
that  it  is  not  by  anything  done  by  others  for  you,  but  by  what  alone  you  do 
for  yourselves,  that  your  intellectual  improvement  must  be  determined.  Read- 
ing and  listening  to  lectures  are  only  profitable,  inasmuch  as  they  aflTord  you 
the  means  and  the  occasions  of  exerting  your  faculties;  —  foi  tiiese  faculties 
are  only  developed  in  proportion  as  they  are  exercised.  This  is  a  principle  I 
take  for  granted. 

A  second  fact,  I  am  assured  you  will  also  allow  me  to  assume,  is,  that  al- 
though strenuous  energy  is  the  one  condition  of  all  improvement,  —  yet  this 
energy  is,  at  first  and  for  a  long  time,  comparatively  panful.  It  is  painful,  be- 
cause it  is  imperfect.  But  as  it  is  gradually  perfected,  it  becomes  gradually 
more  pleasing,  and  when  finally  pei-fect,  that  is,  when  its  power  is  fully  devel- 
oped, it  is  purely  pleasurable ;  for  ])U'asure  is  nothing  but  tiie  concomitant  or 
n-lk'x  of  the  unforced  and  unimpeded  energy  of  a  faculty  or  habit, — the  de- 
gree of  pleasure  being  always  in  proportion  to  the  degree  of  such  energy.  The 
great  jjroblem  in  education  is,  tlicrefbrc,  how  to  induce  the  pupil  to  undertake 
and  go  tiiroMgli  with  a  coui"se  of  exertion,  in  its  result  good  and  even  agreeable, 
lint  iiniiicdiatcly  and  in  itself  irksome.  There  is  no  royal  road  to  learning. 
'•  Tlie  gods,"  says  Epicliarnuis,'  "sell  us  everytiiing  for  toil;"  and  the  curse  in- 
herited from  Adam,  —  that  in  the  sweat  of  his  face  man  should  eat  his  bread. — 
is  true  of  every  Iiuman  acijuisition.  Hesiod,  not  less  beautifully  than  i)hilo- 
sophically,  sings  of  the  paini'nl  conunencement,  and  the  j>lea.'<ant  consunmiation. 
of  virtue,  in  the  passage  of  whicii  the  following  is  the  conunencement: 

Ttjj  5'  'ApSTTJs  ISpuTa  3*ol  irpopipoi^fy  ^dTjKor 
'Ai^ofOTOi :  - 

1  Xenophon,  Mnnornhilin,  ii.  1,  20  —  Kt>.  -'  Oii-ra  rt  Dir.i,  287.  —  Ed. 


036  APPENDIX. 

(a  passage  which,  it  will  be  recollected,  Milton  has  not  less  beautifully  imi- 
tated) ;  *  and  the  Latin  poet  has,  likewise,  well  expressed  the  principle,  touch 
ing  literary  excellence  in  particular: 


• "  Gaudent  sudoribus  artes 


Et  sua  difficilem  reddiint  ad  limiua  cursum."  2 

But  as  the  pain  is  immediate,  while  the  profit  and  the  pleasure  are  remote, 
you  will  grant,  I  presume,  without  difficulty,  a  third  fact,  that  the  requisite  de- 
gree and  continuance  of  effort  can  only  be  insured,  by  applying  a  stimulus  to 
counteract  and  overcome  the  repressive  effect  of  the  feeling  with  which  the 
exertion  is  for  a  season  accompanied.  A  fourth  fact  will  not  be  denied,  that 
emulation  and  the  love  of  honor  constitute  the  appropriate  stimulus  in  educa- 
tion. These  affections  are  of  course  implanted  in  man  for  the  wisest  p^rf^ses 
and,  though  they  may  be  misdirected,  the  inference  from  the  possibility  of  their 
abuse  to  the  absolute  inexpediency  of  their  employment,  is  invalid.  However 
disguised,  their  influence  is  universal : 

"Ad  basse 
Romanus,  Graiusque,  et  Barbarus  induperator 
Erexit :  causas  discriminis  atque  laboris 
lude  habuit;"3 

and  Cicero  shrewdly  remarks,  that  the  philosophers  themselves  prefix  their 
names  to  the  very  books  they  write  on  the  contempt  of  glory.'*  These  passions 
actuate  most  powerfully  the  noblest  minds.  "  Optinios  mortalium,"  s  says  the 
father  of  the  Senate  to  Tiberius,  —  "  Optimos  mortalium  altissima  cupere  :  con- 
temptu  famaj  contemni  virtutes."  "  Natura,"  says  Seneca,**  "  gloriosa  est  virtus,, 
et  anteire  priores  cupit; "  and  Cicero,'  in  more  proximate  reference  to  our  im- 
mediate object,  —  "  Honor  alit  artes  omnesque  incenduntur  ad  studia  gloria." 
But,  though  their  influence  be  universal,  it  is  most  powerfully  conspicuous  in 
the  young,  of  whom  Aristotle  has  noted  it  as  one  of  the  most  diserhninating 
characteristics,  that  they  are  lovers  of  honor,  but  still  more  lovers  of  victory." 
If,  therefore,  it  could  be  but  too  justly  proclaimed  of  man  in  general; 


•  '•  Quis  euini  virtutem  amplectitiir  ipsam, 


Prajmia  si  tollas?  "9 

it  was  Iea.st  of  all  to  be  expected  that  youth  should  do  so.  "  In  learning,"  says 
the  wisdom  of  Bacon,  "  the  flight  will  be  [low  and]  slow  without  some  feathers 
of  ostentation."'"  Nothing,  therefore,  could  betray  a  greater  ignorance  of  hu- 
man  nature,  or  a  greater  negligences  in  employing  the  most  efficient  mean 

1  Sir  VV.  Hamilton  here  probably  refers  to  <  Pro  Arrhia,  c.  11.  —  Ed. 
the  lilies  in  Lyci/las,  —  •'>  Tacitus,  Ann.  iv.  .38.  —  Ed. 

"  Fame  is  the  spur  that  the  clear  spirit  doth         '!  De  Bmeficiis,  iii.  36.  —  Ed. 
raise,"'  etc.  —  Ed.  "!  Tusc.  Quasi,  i.  2.  — _Ed. 

2  B.  Mantuanus,  Carmen  de  suscepto  Thenlng-  s  Ji/iet   ii.  12  —  Ed. 

iro  Magisterin.!  Opera,  Antverpiae,  157G,  tom.  i.  !'  Juveual    Sat.  x.  141 Ed. 

p.  174.  —  Ed.  10  Essay  liv.  0/  Vain  Glory  -.-  Ed. 

3  Juvenal,  .S««.  x.  138.  —  Ed. 


APPENDIX.  68" 

within  its  grasp,  thaa  for  any  seminary  of  education  to  leave  unapplied  these 
great  promoting  principles  of  activity,  and  to  take  for  granted  that  its  pupils 
■would  act  precisely  as  they  ought,  though  left  with  every  inducement  strong 
against,  and  without  any  sufficient  motive  in  tavor  of,  exertion. 

Now.  I  express,  I  believe,  the  universal  sentiment,  both  within  and  without 
these  walls,  in  saying,  that  this  University  has  been  unhappily  all  too  remiss,  in 
leaving  the  most  powerful  mean  of  academical  education  nearly,  if  not  alto- 
gether, unemployed.  You  will  observe  I  use  the  term  Vniverxity  in  contradic- 
tion to  individual  Profes.sors,  for  many  of  these  have  done  much  in  this  respect, 
and  all  of  them,  I  believe,  are  satisfied  that  a  great  deal  more  ought  to  be  done. 
But  it  is  not  in  the  power  of  individual  instructors  to  accomplish  what  can  be 
only  accomplished  by  the  public  institntidii.  The  rewards  proposed  to  merito- 
rious effort  are  not  sufficiently  honoi-able ;  and  the  efforts  to  which  they  are 
frequently  accorded,  not  of  the  kind  or  degree  to  be  of  any  great  or  general 
advantage.     I  shall  explain  myself. 

A  distinction  is  sought  after  with  a  zeal  proportioned  to  its  value ;  and  its 
value  is  measured  by  the  estimation  which  it  holds  in  public  opmion.  Now, 
though  there  are  prizes  given  in  many  of  our  classes,  nothing  has  been  done  to 
give  them  proper  value  by  raising  them  in  public;  estimation.  Thej'  are  not 
conferred  as  matters  of  importiince  by  any  external  solemnity ;  they  are  not 
conferred  in  any  general  meeting  of  the  University ;  far  less  under  circum- 
stances which  make  their  distribution  a  matter  of  public  curiosity  and  interest. 
Compared  to  the  jjubluity  that  might  easily  have  been  secured,  they  are  left, 
so  to  speak,  to  be  given  in  holes  and  corners;  and  while  little  thought  of  to- 
day, are  wholly  foigotten  to-morrow ;  so  that  the  wonder  only  is,  that  what  the 
University  has  thus  treated  with  such  apparent  contempt,  .should  have  awak- 
ened even  the  inadccjuate  emulation  that  has  been  so  laudably  dis])layed.  Of 
this  great  defect  in  oui-  discipline,  I  may  safely  say  that  every  Professor  is 
aware,  and  it  is  now  actually  under  the  consideration  of  the  Senatus,  what  are 
the  most  expedient  measures  to  obtain  a  system  of  means  of  full  efficiency  for 
the  encouragement  and  reward  of  academical  merit.  It  will,  of  course,  form 
the  foundation  of  any  such  improvement,  that  the  distribution  of  prizes  be 
made  an  act  of  the  University  at  large;  and  one  of  the  most  public  and  impos- 
ing character.  By  this  means  a  far  more  powerful  emulation  will  be  roused ;  a 
,«pirit  which  will  not  be  limited  to  a  certain  pioportion  of  the  students,  but  will 
more  or  less  pervade  the  whole;  nay,  not  merely  the  students  themselves,  but 
their  families;  so  that  when  this  .system  is  brought  to  its  adequate  perfection,  it 
will  be  next  to  impossible  for  a  young  man  of  generous  dis]»()sition  not  to  put 
forth  every  energy  to  raise  himself  as  high  as  possible  in  tlie  scale  of  so  honor- 
able a  competition. 

But,  besides  those  who  can  only  be  affected  by  an  act  of  the  whole  Univer- 
sity, important  improvement  may,  I  think,  be  accomplished  in  this  respect  in 
the  several  classes.     In  what  I  now  say,  I  wouM  not  be  s)ip|)osed  to  exjire^s 
any  opinion  in  regard  to  other  classes;  but  confine  mv  ol)scrvations  to  one  nn 
der  the  cinimistanccs  of  our  own. 

In  the  first  plai-e,  then,  I  am  convinced  that  excitement  and  rewards  are 
principally  required  to  promote  a  general  and  continued  diligence  in  the  onli- 
nary  business  of  the  class.     I  mean,  thercfon-,  that  the  prizes  should  with  us  be 


•338  APPENDIX. 

awarded  for  general  eminence,  as  shown  In  the  Examinations  and  Exercises; 
and  I  am  averse  on  principle  from  proposing  any  premium  during  the  course 
of  the  sessional  labors  for  single  and  detached  efforts.  The  effect  of  this  would 
naturally  be  to  distract  attention  from  wliat  ought  to  be  the  principal  and  con- 
stant object  of  occupation ;  and  if  honor  is  to  be  gained  by  an  irregular  and 
transient  spirit  of  activity,  less  encouragement  will  necessarily  be  afforded  to 
regular  and  sedulous  application.  Prizes  for  individual  Essays,  for  Written 
Analyses  of  important  books,  and  for  Oral  Examination  on  their  contents,  may, 
however,  with  great  advantage,  be  proposed  as  occupation  during  the  summer 
vacation ;  and  this  I  shall  do.  But  the  honors  of  the  Winter  Session  must  be- 
long to  those  who  have  regularly  gone  through  its  toils. 

In  the  second  place,  the  value  of  the  prizes  may  be  greatly  enhanced  by 
giving  them  greater  and  more  permanent  publicity.  A  very  simple  mode,  and 
one  which  I  mean  to  adopt,  is  to  record  upon  a  tablet  each  year,  the  names  of 
the  successful  competitors  ;  this  tablet  to  be  permanently  affixed  to  the  walls 
of  the  class-room,  while  a  duplicate  may,  in  like  manner,  be  placed  in  the 
Common  Reading-Room  of  the  Library. 

In  the  third  place,  the  importance  of  the  prizes  for  general  eminence  in  the 
l>usiness  of  the  class  may  be  considerably  raised,  by  making  the  competitors 
the  judges  of  merit  among  themselves.  This  I  am  persuaded  is  a  measure  of 
the  very  highest  efficiency.  On  theory  I  would  argue  this,  and  in  practice  it 
has  been  fully  verified.  On  this  head,  I  shall  quote  to  you  the  experience  of 
my  venerated  preceptor,  the  late  Professor  Jardlne  of  Glasgow,  —  a  man,  I 
will  make  bold  to  say,  who,  in  the  chair  of  Logic  of  that  University,  did  more 
for  the  intellectual  improvement  of  his  pupils  than  any  other  public  instructor 
in  this  country  within  the  memory  of  man.  This  he  did  not  accomplish  either 
by  great  erudition  or  great  philosophical  talent,  —  though  he  was  both  a 
learned  and  an  able  thinker, — but  by  the  application  of  that  primary  prin- 
ciple of  education,  which,  wherever  employed,  has  been  employed  with  suc- 
cess, —  I  mean  the  determination  of  the  pupil  to  self-activity,  —  doing  nothing 
for  him  which  he  Is  able  to  do  for  himself.  This  principle,  which  has  been 
always  inculcated  by  theorists  on  education,  has,  however,  by  few  been  carried 
fully  into  effect. 

"  One  difficult  and  very  important  part,"  says  Mr.  Jardine,!  "  in  administering  the 
system  of  prizes,  still  remains  to  be  stated;  and  this  is  the  method  by  which  the  different 
degrees  of  merit  are  determined;  a  point  in  which  any  error  with  regard  to  principle,  or 
suspicion  of  practical  mistake,  would  completely  destroy  all  the  good  effects  aimed  at 
by  the  establishment  in  question.  It  has  been  already  mentioned,  that  the  qualifications 
which  form  the  ground  of  competition  for  the  class  prizes,  as  they  are  sometimes  called, 
and  which  are  to  be  distinguished  from  the  university  prizes,  are  diligence,  regularity 
of  attendance,  general  eminence  at  the  daily  examinations,  and  in  the  execution  of 
themes,  propriety  of  academical  conduct,  and  habitual  good  manners;  and,  on  these 
heads  it  is  very  obvious,  a  judgment  must  be  pronounced  either  by  the  professor,  or  by 
the  students  themselves,  as  no  others  have  access  to  the  requisite  information. 

"It  may  be  imagined,  at  first  view,  that  the  office  of  judge  would  be  best  performed 
bj'  the  professor;  but  after  long  experience,  and  much  attention  to  the  subject  m  all  its 
bearings,  I  am  inclined  to  give  a  decided  preference  to  the  exercise  of  this  right  as  vested 
in  the  students.     Were  the  professor  to  take  this  duty  upon  himself,  it  would  be  impos- 

1    Outlines  of  Philosophical  Education,  etc  ,  pp.  384,  385;  387,  389 


APPENDIX.  631. 

sible,  even  witli  the  most  perfect  conviction,  on  the  part  of  the  students,  that  his  judg- 
ment and  candor  were  unimpeachable,  to  give  satisfaction  to  all  parties;  wliile,  on  the 
other  hand,  were  there  the  slightest  reason  to  suspect  his  impartiality,  in  either  of  these 
points,  or  the  remotest  ground  for  insinuation  that  he  gave  undue  advantage  to  any  indi- 
viduals, in  bringing  forward  their  claims  to  the  prejudice  of  others,  the  charm  of  emu- 
lation would  be  dissolved  at  once,  and  every  future  effort  among  his  pupils  would  be 
enfeebled. 

******** 

"  The  indispensable  qualities  of  good  judges,  then,  are  a  competent  knowledge  of  the 
grounds  upon  which  their  judgment  is  to  rest,  and  a  firm  resolution  to  determine  on  the 
matter  before  them  with  strict  impartiality.  It  is  presumed  that  the  students,  in  thess 
respects,  are  sufficiently  qualified.  They  are  every  day  witnesses  of  the  manner  in 
which  the  business  of  the  class  goes  on,  and  have,  accordingly,  the  best  opportunities 
of  judging  as  to  tlie  merits  of  their  fellow-students;  they  have  it  in  their  power  to  ob- 
serve the  regularity  of  their  attendance,  and  the  general  propriety  of  their  conduct; 
they  hear  the  questions  which  are  put,  with  the  answers  which  are  given;  their  various 
themes  are  read  aloud,  and  observations  are  made  on  them  from  the  chair.  They  have, 
likewise,  an  opportunity  of  comparing  the  respective  merits  of  all  the  competitors,  ia 
the  extemporaneous  exercises  of  the  class ;  and  they,  no  doubt,  hear  the  performances 
of  one  another  canvassed  in  conversation,  and  made  the  subject  of  a  comjjarative  esti- 
mate. Besides,  as  everj'  individual  is,  himself,  deeply  interested,  it  is  not  possible  but 
that  he  should  pay  the  closest  attention  to  what  is  going  on  around  him ;  whilst  he  can- 
not fail  to  be  aware  that  he,  in  like  manner,  is  constantly  observed  by  others,  and  sub- 
jected to  the  ordeal  of  daily  criticism.  In  truth,  the  character,  the  abilities,  the  dili- 
gence, and  progress  of  students,  are  as  well  known  to  one  another,  before  the  close  of 
the  session,  as  their  faces.  There  cannot,  therefore,  be  any  deficiency  as  to  means  of 
information  to  enable  them  to  act  the  part  of  enlightened  and  upright  judges. 

"  But  they  likewise  possess  the  otlier  requisite  for  an  equitable  decision;  for  the  great 
majority  have  really  a  desire  to  judge  honorably  and  fairly  on  the  merit  of  their  fellows. 
The  natural  candor  and  generosity  of  youth,  the  sense  of  right  and  obligations  of  jus- 
tice, are  not  yet  so  perverted,  by  bad  example  and  the  way*  of  the  world,  as  to  pennit 
any  deliberate  intention  of  violating  the  integrity  on  which  they  profess  to  act,  or  any 
wish  to  conspire  in  supporting  an  unrighteous  judgment.  There  is  greater  danger,  per- 
haps, that  young  persons,  in  their  circumstances,  may  allow  themselve<  to  be  influenced 
by  friendship  or  personal  dislike,  rather  than  by  the  pure  and  unbiassed  sense  of  meri- 
torious exertion,  or  good  abilities;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  when  an  individual  consider.* 
of  how  little  consequence  his  single  vote  will  be  among  so  many,  it  is  not  at  all  likely 
that  he  will  be  induced  to  sacrifice  it  either  to  fricndshi])  or  to  enmity.  There  are,  how- 
ever, no  perfect  judges  in  any  department  of  human  life.  Prejudices  and  un|)erceived 
biasses  make  their  way  into  the  minds  even  of  the  most  upright  of  our  fellow-creatures; 
and  there  can  be  no  doubt  that  votes  are  sometimes  thrown  away,  or  injudiciously  given, 
by  young  students  in  the  Logic  class.  Still,  these  little  aberrations  are  never  found  te 
disturb  the  operation  of  the  general  principle  on  which  the  scale  of  merit  is  determined, 
and  the  list  of  honors  filled  up." 

Now,  Gcntli'mcn,  from  what  1  know  of  you,  I  think  it  almost  neetlloss  to 
say,  that,  in  confiding  to  you  a  function  on  the  intelligent  ami  upright  discharge 
of  which  the  value  and  significance  of  the  ])ri/cs  will  wholly  depend,  I  do  this 
without  any  anxiety  for  the  result.  I  am  sure  at  least  that  if  aught  l)e  want- 
ing, the  defect  will  be  found  neitlier  in  your  incompetency  nor  want  of  will. 

And  here  I  would  conchide  what  I  pro])ose  to  say  to  you  on  this  sniiject ; 
(this  has  extended  to  a  far  greater  length  than  I  anticipated) ;  I  wotdd  ron- 
clude  with  a  most  earnest  exhortation  to  those  who  may  be  discouraged  from 
coming  forwanl  as  competitors  for  academical  honors,  from  a  feeling  or  a  fancy 


640  A  p  r  J",  X  D I X . 

of  inferiority.  In  the  first  place,  I  would  dissuade  them  from  this,  because 
they  may  be  deceived  in  the  estimate  of  their  own  powers.  Many  individuals 
do  not  become  aware  of  their  own  talents,  till  placed  in  circumstances  which 
compel  them  to  make  strenuous  exertion.  Then  they  and  those  around  them 
discover  the  mistake.  In  the  second  place,  even  though  some  of  you  may  now 
find  yourselves  somewhat  inferior  to  others,  do  not  for  a  moment  despair  of 
the  future.  The  most  powerful  minds  are  frequently  of  a  tardy  development, 
and  you  may  rest  assured,  that  the  sooner  and  more  vigorously  you  exercise 
your  faculties,  the  speedier  and  more  complete  will  be  their  evolution.  In  the 
third  place,  I  exhort  you  to  remember  that  the  distinctions  now  to  be  gained, 
are  on  their  own  account  principally  valuable  as  means  towards  an  end,  —  as 
motives  to  induce  you  to  cultivate  your  powers  by  exercise.  All  of  you,  even 
though  nearly  equal,  cannot  obtain  equal  honors  in  the  struggle,  but  all  of  }ou 
will  obtain  advantage  equally-  substantial,  if  you  all,  what  is  wholly  in  your 
own  power,  equally  put  forth  your  energies  to  strive.  And  though  you  should 
all  endeavor  to  be  first,  let  me  remind  you,  in  the  words  of  Cicero,  that  -^ 
"  Prima  sequentem,  pulchrum  est  in  secundis,  tertiisque  consistere."  ^ 


B.  — FRAGMENTS   ON  THE   SCOTTISH  PHILOSOPHY. 
(a)  Portion  of  Introductory  Lecture  C1836). 

Before  entering  on  the  proposed  subjects  of  consideration,  I  must  be  allowed 
a  brief  preliminary  digression.  In  entering  on  a  course  of  the  Philosophy  of 
Mind,  —  of  Philosophy  Proper,  —  we  ought  not,  as  Scotsmen,  to  forget  that  on 
this  is,  and  always  has  been,  principally  founded  the  scientific  reputation  of 
Scotland  ;  and,  therefore,  that  independently  of  the  higher  claims  of  this 
philosophy  to  attention,  it  would  argue  almost  a  want  of  patriotism  in  us,  were 
we  to  neglect  a  study  with  the  successful  cultivation  of  which  our  country,  and 
in  particular  this  University,  have  been  so  honorably  associated. 

Whether  it  be  that  the  characteristic  genius  of  our  nation  — the  prceferiu- 
dum  Scotorum  ingenium  —  was  more  capable  of  powerful  effort  than  of  perse- 
vering industry,  and,  therefore,  carried  us  more  to  studies  of  principle  than 
studies  of  detail;  or  (what  is  more  probable),  that  institutions  and  circum- 
stances have  been  here  less  favorable,  than  in  other  countries,  for  the  promo- 
tion of  ei-udition  and  research  ;  certain  it  is  that  the  reputation  for  intellectual 
capacity  which  Scotland  has  always  sustained  among  the  nations  of  Europe,  is 
founded  far  less  on  the  achievements  of  her  sons  in  learning  and  scholarship, 
than  on  what  they  have  done,  or  shown  themselves  capable  of  doing,  in  Philos- 
ophy I'roper  and  its  dependent  sciences. 

In  former  ages,  Scotland  presented  but  few  objects  for  scientific  and  literary 
ambition  ;  and  Scotsmen  of  intellectual  enterprise  usually  sought  in  other  coun- 

1  Orator,  c.  i. 


APPENDIX.  641 

tries,  that  education,  patronage,  and  applanse,  which  were  denied  them  in  their 
own.  It  is,  indeed,  an  honorable  testimony  to  the  natural  vigor  of  Scottish  tal- 
«^nt,  that,  while  Scotland  afforded  so  little  encouragement  for  its  production,  a 
complement  so  large  in  amount,  and  of  so  high  a  quality,  should  have  been,  as 
it  were,  spontaneously  supplied.  During  the  sixteenth  and  seventeenth  centu- 
ries, there  was  hardly  to  be  found  a  Continental  University  without  a  Scottish 
professor.  It  was,  indeed,  a  common  saying,  that  a  Scottish  pedlar  and  a  Scot- 
tish professor  were  everywhere  to  be  met  with.  France,  however,  was  long  the 
great  nursery  of  Scottish  talent;  and  this  even  after  the  political  and  re!i"ious 
estrangement  of  Scotland  from  her  ancient  ally,  by  the  establishment  of  the 
Reformation,  and  the  accession  of  the  Scottish  monarch  to  the  English  crown ; 
and  the  extent  of  this  foreign  ])atronage  may  be  estimated  from  the  fact,  that  a 
single  prelate  —  the  illustrious  Cardinal  Du  Perron  —  is  recorded  to  have 
found  places  in  the  seminaries  of  France  for  a  greater  number  of  literarr 
Scotsmen  than  all  the  schools  and  universities  of  Scotland  maintained  at  home.' 

But  this  favor  to  our  countrvmen  was  not  without  its  reasons :  and  the  around 
of  partiality  was  not  their  superior  erudition.  What  principally  obtained  ibr 
them  reputation  and  patronage  abroad,  was  their  dialectical  and  metaphysical 
acuteness ;  and  this  they  were  found  so  generally  to  possess,  that  philosophical 
talent  became  almost  a  proverbial  attribute  of  the  nation.'- 

During  the  ascendant  of  the  Aristotelic  philoso])hy,  and  so  long  as  de.\terity  in 
disputation  was  considered  the  highest  academical  accomplishment,  the  logical 
subtlety  of  our  countrymen  was  in  high  and  general  demand.  But  they  were 
remarkable  less  as  writers  than  as  instructors ;  for  were  we  to  consider  them 
only  in  the  former  capacity,  the  works  that  now  remain  to  us  of  these  expatri- 
ated philosophei's,  —  these  Scnti  erfra  Scotinm  agrntcs,  —  though  neither  few 
nor  unimportant,  would  still  never  enable  us  to  account  for  the  high  and  pe- 
culiar reputation  which  the  Scottish  dialecticians  so  long  enjoyed  throughout 
Europe. 

Such  was  the  literary  character  of  Scotland,  before  the  cstabKshment  of  her 
intellectual  independence,  and  such  has  it  continued  to  the  present  day.  In 
illustration  of  this,  I  cannot  now  attempt  a  comparative  survey  of  the  contribu- 
tions made  by  this  country  and  others  to  the  different  departments  of  knowl- 
edge, nor  is  it  lu'cessary ;  for  no  one,  I  am  assured,  will  deny  that  it  is  only  in 
the  Philosophy  of  Mind  that  a  Scotsman  has  established  an  epoch,  or  that  Scot- 
land, by  the  consent  of  Eun)[ie,  has  bi-stowcd  her  name  upon  a  School. 

The  man  Avho  gave  the  whole  philosophy  of  Europe  a  new  impulse  and  di- 
rection, and  to  whom,  mediately  or  inunediately,  must  be  referred  every  subso- 
(pient  advance  in  philosophical  speculation,  was  our  cou!itrvnian,  —  David 
Hume.  In  speaking  of  this  illustrious  thinker,  I  feel  an.xious  to  be  distimtly 
understood.  I  would,  therefore,  earnestly  request  of  you  to  bear  in  mind,  that 
religious  disbelief  and  philosophical  skepticism  are  not  menly  not  the  same,  but 
have  no  natural  connection;  and  that  while  the  one  must  ever  be  a  matter  of 
re[irobation  and  regret,  the  other  is  in  itself  deserving  of  applause.  Both  were 
united  in  Hume;  and  this  union  has  unfortunately  contnl)uted  to  associate 
them  together  in  popular  opinion,  and  to  involve  them  e(iua!ly  in  one  vague 
condemnation.     They  must,  therefore.  I  repeat,  be  accurately  distinguished; 

I  See  Discussions,  p..l20.  —  Ed.  •-'  .See  Dtscussions,  p.  119  —  El» 

81 


642  A  p  p  !•:  X  D 1  X . 

and  thus,  though  decidedly  opposed  to  cue  and  all  of  Hume's  theological  con- 
clusions, I  have  no  hesitation  in  asserting  of  his  philosophical  skepticism,  that 
this  was  not  only  beneficial  in  its  results,  but,  in  the  circiunstances  of  the  pe- 
riod, even  a  necessary  step  in  the  progress  of  Philosophy  towards  truth.  In  the 
first  place,  it  was  requisite  in  order  to  arouse  thought  from  its  lethargy.  Men 
had  fallen  asleep  over  their  dogmatic  systems.  In  Germany,  the  Rationalism 
of  Leibnitz  and  Wolf;  in  England,  the  Sensualism  of  Locke,  with  all  its  mel- 
ancholy results,  had  subsided  almost  into  established  faiths.  The  Skepticism  of 
Hume,  like  an  electric  spark,  sent  life  through  the  paralyzed  opinions ;  philos- 
ophy awoke  to  renovated  vigor,  and  its  problems  were  again  to  be  considered 
in  other  aspects,  and  subjected  to  a  more  searching  analysis.  .1 1 

In  the  second  place,  it  was  necessary,  in  order  to  manifest  the  inadequacy  of 
the  prevailing  system.  In  this  respect,  skepticism  is  always  highly  advanta- 
geous; for  skepticism  is  only  the  carrying  out  of  erroneous  philosophy  to  the 
absurdity  which  it  always  virtually  involved.  The  skeptic,  qua  skeptic,  cannot 
himself  lay  down  his  premises ;  he  can  only  accept  them  from  the  dogmatist ;  if 
true,  they  can  afford  no  foundation  for  the  skeptical  inference ;  if  false,  the 
sooner  they  are  exposed  in  their  real  character,  the  better.  Accepting  his  prin- 
ciples from  the  dominant  philosophies  of  Locke  and  Leibnitz,  and  deducing 
with  irresistible  evidence  these  principles  to  their  legitimate  results,  Hume 
showed,  by  the  extreme  absurdity  of  these  results  themselves,  either  that  Plii- 
losophy  altogether  was  a  delusion,  or  that  the  individual  systems  which  afforded 
the  premises,  were  erroneous  or  incomplete.  He  thus  constrained  philosophers 
to  the  alternative,  —  either  of  surrendering  philosophy  as  null,  or  of  ascending 
to  higher  principles,  in  order  to  reestablish  it  against  the  skeptical  reduction. 
The  dilemma  of  Hume  constitutes,  perhaps,  the  most  memorable  crisis  in  the 
history  of  philosophy  ;  for  out  of  it  the  whole  subsequent  Metaphysic  of  Europe 
has  taken  its  rise. 

To  Hume  we  owe  the  philosophy  of  Kant,  and,  therefore,  also,  in  general, 
the  latter  philosophy  of  Germany.  Kant  explicitly  acknowledges  that  it  was 
by  Hume's  reductio  ad  ahsurdum  of  the  previous  doctrine  of  Causality,  he  was 
first  roused  from  his  dogmatic  slumber.  He  saw  the  necessity  that  had  arisen, 
of  placing  philosophy  on  a  foundation  beyond  the  reach  of  skepticism,  or  of 
surrendering  it  altogether ;  and  this  It  was  that  led  him  to  those  researches  Into 
the  conditions  of  thought,  which  considered,  whether  In  themselves  or  in  their 
consequences,  whether  In  what  they  established  or  in  what  they  subverted,  are, 
perhaps,  the  most  remarkable  in  the  annals  of  speculation. 

To  Ilume,  in  like  manner,  Ave  owe  the  philosophy  of  Reld,  and,  conse- 
quently, what  is  now  distitictively  known  in  Europe  as  the  Philosophy  of  the 
Scottish  School. 

Unable  to  controvert  the  reasoning  of  Berkeley,  as  founded  on  the  philos- 
ophy of  Descartes  and  Locke,  Reid  had  quietly  resigned  himself  to  Idealism, 
and  he  confesses  that  he  would  never  have  been  led  to  question  the  legitimacy 
of  the  common  doctrine  of  Perception,  Involving  though  It  did  the  negation  of 
an  external  world,  had  Hume  not  startled  him  into  hesitation  and  iiujuiry,  by 
showing  that  the  same  reasoning  which  disproved  the  Existence  of  Matter,  dis- 
proved, when  fairly  carried  out,  also  the  Substantiality  of  Mind.  Such  was  the 
origla  of  the  philosophy  founded  by  Reid,  —  illustrated  and  adorned  by  Stewart 


APPENDIX.  648 

and  it  is  to  this  philosophy,  and  to  the  writings  of  these  two  illustrious  thinkers, 
that  Scotland  is  mainly  indebted  for  the  distinguished  reputation  whieh  she  at 
present  enjoys,  in  every  country  where  the  study  of  the  Mind  has  not,  as  in 
England,  been  neglected  for  the  study  of  Matter. 

The  Philosophy  of  Reid  is  at  once  our  pride  and  our  reproach.  At  home, 
mistaken  and  undervalued  ;  abroad,  understood  and  honored.  The  assertion 
may  be  startling,  yet  is  literally  true,  that  the  doctrines  of  the  Scottish  School 
have  been  nowhere  less  fairly  apj)reciated  than  in  Scotland  itself  To  explain 
how  they  have  been  misinterpreted,  and,  conse(|uently  neglected,  in  the  coun- 
try of  their  l)irtli,  is  more  than  I  can  now  attempt;  but  as  I  believe  an  eijual 
ignorance  prevails  in  regard  to  the  high  favor  accorded  to  these  speculations 
by  those  nations  who  an;  now  in  advance,  as  the  most  enlightened  cultivatoi's 
of  philosophy,  I  shall  endeavor,  as  brielly  as  possible,  to  show  that  it  may  be 
for  our  credit  not  rashly  to  disparage  what  other  countries  view  as  our  chief 
national  claim  to  scientific  celebrity.  In  illustration  of  this,  I  shall  only  allude 
to  the  account  in  which  our  Scottish  Philosophy  is  held  in  Germany  and  in 
France. 

There  is  a  strong  general  analogy  between  the  philosophies  of  Reid  and  Kant ; 
and  Kant,  I  may  observe  by  the  way,  was  a  Scotsman  by  proximate  descent.  Both 
originate  in  a  recoil  against  the  skepticism  of  Hume ;  both  are  equally  opposed 
to  the  Sensualism  of  Locke ;  both  vindicate  with  e(pial  zeal  the  moral  dignity 
of  man  ;  and  both  attempt  to  mete  out  and  to  define  the  legitimate  sphere  of  our 
intellectual  activity.  There  are  however,  important  differences  between  the 
doctrines,  as  might  be  anticipated  from  the  very  different  characters  of  the 
men  ;  and  while  Kant  surpassed  Reid  in  systematic  power  and  comprehension, 
Reid  excelled  Kant  in  the  caution  and  security  of  his  procedure.  There  is, 
however,  one  point  of  difference  in  which  it  is  now  acknowledged,  evt-n  by  the 
representatives  of  the  Kantian  philosophy,  that  Kant  was  wrong,  i  allude  to 
the  doctrine  of  Perception,  —  the  doctrine  which  constitutes  the  very  corner- 
stone of  the  philosophy  of  Reid.  Though  both  philosophies  were,  in  tlieir 
origin,  reactions  against  the  skt'pticism  of  Hume,  this  reaction  was  not  equally 
dett-rminecl  in  eacii  by  the  same  obnoxious  conclusion.  For,  as  it  was  prima- 
rily to  reconnect  J^tfect  and  Cause  that  Kant  was  roused  to  speculation,  so  it 
was  primarily  to  regain  the  worlds  of  INIind  and  Matter,  that  Reid  was  awak- 
ened to  activity.  Accordingly  Kant,  adniittinir,  witliout  (|n('stion.  the  previous 
doctrine  of  philosopiici-s,  that  the  niin<l  has  no  inuncdiatc  knowledge  of  any 
existence  external  to  itself,  adopted  it  without  hesitation  as  a  principle,  —  that 
the  mind  is  cognizant  of  nothing  beyond  its  own  modifications,  and  that  what 
our  natural  consciousness  mistakes  for  an  external  world,  is  only  an  inti'rnal 
pha-nouuMK)!!,  only  a  niental  ri-prescntation  of  the  unknown  and  inconceivable. 
Reid,  on  the  contrary,  was  fortunately  led  to  (jucstion  the  grounds  on  whii-h 
philosophers  had  gi\('n  the  lie  to  tin-  iialni-,il  beliefs  of  inankimi  ;  ;iiid  lii~  in- 
(juiry  terminated  in  the  conclusion,  that  there  exists  no  valid  ground  tor  the 
hypothesis,  universally  admitted  by  the  learned,  that  an  inuncdiatc  knowledge 
of  material  objects  is  impossible.  The  attempt  of  Kant,  if  the  attempt  were 
serious,  to  demonstrate  the  existence  of  an  external  ami  unknown  world,  was, 
as  is  universally  admitted,  a  signal  failure;  and  his  Ilypollntii  al  Realism  was 
Boon  analyzed  by  an  illustrious  disciple  —  Fichte  —  into  an  Absolute  Idealism, 


644  APPENDIX 

with  a  logical  rigor  that  did  not  admit  of  refutation.'  In  the  meanwhile  Reid's 
<loc;triiie  of  Perception  had  attracted  the  attention  of  an  acute  opponent  of  the 
Critical  Philosophy  in  Germany ;  *  and  that  doctrine,  divested  of  those  super- 
ficial errors  which  have  led  some  injrenious  reasoners  in  this  country  to  view 
and  represent  Reid  as  holding  an  opinion  on  this  point  identical  with  Kant's, 
was.  in  Kant's  own  country,  placed  in  opposition  against  his  opinion,  fortified 
as  that  was  by  the  authority  of  all  modern  philosophers.  And  with  what  result? 
Simply  this:  —  that  the  most  distinguished  representatives  of  the  Kantian 
school  now  acknowledge  Kant's  doctrine  of  Perception  to  be  erroneous,  and 
one  analogous  to  that  of  Reid  they  have  adopted  in  its  stead.  Thus,  while,  ii> 
Scotland,  the  fundamental  position  of  Reid's  philosophy  has  been  misunder 
stood,  his  criticism  of  the  ideal  theory  treated  as  a  blunder,  and  his  peculiar 
doctrine  of  perception  represented  as  essentially  the  same  with  that  of  the  phi 
losophers  whom  he  assailed ;  in  Germany,  an<l  by  his  own  disciples,  Kant's 
theory  of  perception  is  admitted  to  be  false,  and  the  doctrine  of  Reid,  on  this 
point,  appreciated  at  its  just  value,  and  recognized  as  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant and  original  contributions  ever  made  to  philosophy. 

But  in  France,  I  may  add  Italy,  the  triumph  of  the  Scottish  school  has  been 
even  more  signal  than  in  Germany.  The  philosophy  of  Locke,  first  recom- 
mended to  his  countrymen  by  the  brilliant  fancy  of  Voltaire,  was,  by  the  lucid 
subtlety  of  Condillac,  reduced  to  a  simplicity  which  not  only  obtained  an 
ascendant  over  the  philosophy  of  Descartes,  but  rendered  it  in  France  the 
object  of  all  but  universal  admiration.  Locke  had  deduced  all  knowledge 
from  Experience,  but  Condillac  analyzed  every  faculty  into  Sense.  Though 
its  author  was  no  materialist,  the  system  of  transformed  sensation  is  only  a  dis- 
guised materialism ;  and  the  import  of  the  doctrine  soon  became  but  too  appar- 
ent in  its  effects.  Melancholy,  however,  as  it  was,  this  theory  obtained  an 
authority  in  France  unparalleled  for  its  universality  and  continuance.  For 
seventy  years,  not  a  single  work  of  an  opposite  tendency  made  the  smallest 
impression  on  the  public  mind ;  all  discussion  of  principles  had  ceased ;  it  re- 
mained only  to  develop  the  remoter  consequences  of  the  system ;  philosophy 
seemed  accomplished. 

Such  was  the  state  of  opinion  in  France  until  the  downfall  of  the  Empire. 
In  the  period  of  tranquillity  that  followed  the  Restoration,  the  minds  of  men 
were  again  turned  with  interest  to  metaphysical  speculation  ;  and  it  was  then 
that  the  doctrines  of  the  Scottish  Philosophy  were,  for  the  first  time,  heard  in 
the  public  schools  of  France.  Recommended  b}-  the  powerful  talent  and  high 
authority  of  Royer-CoUard,  these  doctrines  made  converts  of  some  of  the  lofti- 
est intellects  of  France.  A  vigorous  assault,  in  which  the  prowess  of  Cousin 
was  remarkable,  was  made  against  the  prevalent  opinions,  and  with  a  success 
so  decisive,  that,  after  a  controversy  of  twenty  years,  the  school  of  Condillac  is 
now,  in  its  own  country,  considered  as  extinct ;  while  our  Scottish  philosophy 
not  only  obtained  an  ascendant  in  public  opinion,  but,  through  the  influence 
of  my  illustrious  friend  M.  Cousin,  forms  the  basis  of  philosophical  instruction 

1  Some  fragmentary  criticisms  of  the  Kan-  2  Schulze,  in  his  JEnesidemus,  published  in 

tian  philosophy  in  this  respect,  will  be  louiid  1792;  and  again  in  his  Kntik  tier  ihforetischen 

appended  to  this  dissertation.    See  below,  p.  Philosopkie,  1801.    See  ReiWs  Works,  p.  797.  — 

646. —Ed.  Ed. 


I 


APPENDIX.  645 

In  the  various  Colleges  connected  with  the  University  of  France.  It  must  not, 
however,  be  supposed,  tliat  the  French  liave  servilely  adopted  the  opinions  of 
our  countrymen.  On  the  contrary,  what  tliey  have  borrowed  they  have  so 
ably  amplified,  strengthened,  simplified,  and  improved,  that  the  common  doc- 
trines of  Reid  and  Stewart,  of  Iloyer-Collard  and  Jouflroy  (for  Cousin  falls 
under  another  category),  ought  in  justice  to  be  denominated  the  Scoto-Gullkan 
J^hilusojih//,  —  a  name,  indeed,  already  bestowed  upon  them  by  recent  histo- 
rians of  i)hilosophy  in  Germany. 

******* 


(/;.)  M.  Jouffroy's  Criticism  of  tiik  Scottish  School. 

(Probably  1837,  or  a  little  later.     See  (J^uvres  de  Reid,  vol.  1.    Preface,  p.  clxxxvi.- 

cxcix.  —  Ed.) 

*  *  *  *       I  must  be  allowed  to  make  an  observation  in 

reference  to  the  criticism  of  M.  Jouffroy. 

Dr.  Reid  and  Mr.  Stewart  not  only  denounce  as  absurd  the  attempt  to  dem- 
onstrate, that  the  original  data  of  Consciousness  are  for  us  the  rule  of  what  ire 
ought  to  believe,  that  is,  the  criteria  of  a  relative,  —  human,  —  subjective, 
truth ;  but  interdict  as  unphilosophical  all  question  in  regard  to  their  validity, 
as  the  vehi(des  of  an  absolute  or  objective  truth. 

M.  Jouflfroy,  of  course,  coincides  Avith  the  Scottish  ])liilosopher3  in  regard  to 
the  former;  but  as  to  tiie  latter,  he  maintains,  with  Kant,  tiiat  the  doubt  is 
legitimate,  and,  though  he  admits  it  to  be  insoluble,  he  thinks  it  ought  to  be 
entertained.  Nor,  on  the  ground  on  whicii  they  and  he  consider  the  question, 
am  I  disposed  to  dissent  from  his  conclusion.  But  on  that  on  which  I  have 
now  placed  it,^  I  cannot  but  view  the  in(juiry  as  incompetent.  For  what  is  tlie 
(juestion  in  plain  terms?  Simply,  —  Wiu'ther  what  our  nature  coni})els  us  to 
believe  as  true  and  real,  be  true  and  re.al,  or  only  a  consistiMit  illusion  V  Now 
this  question  cannot  be  philosophically  entertained,  for  two  reasons.  1°.  Be- 
cause there  exists  a  prtisuinption  in  favor  of  the  veracity  of  our  nature,  which 
either  precludes  or  pt-rcmptorily  repels  a  gratuitous  supposition  of  it:?  men- 
dacity. 2°,  Because  we  have  no  mean  out  of  Consciousness  of  testing  Con- 
sciousness. If  its  data  are  found  concordant,  they  must  be  trustwortiiy  :  if 
repugnant,  they  are  already  proved  unworthy  of  credit.  Unless,  tlieretbre, 
the  mutual  collation  of  the  primary  data  of  Consciousness  be  held  such  an 
incjuiry,  this  is,  I  think,  manifestly  incompetent.  It  is  only  in  the  case  of  one 
or  more  of  these  original  facts  bi-ing  rejected  as  false,  that  the  (juestion  can 
emeriie  in  reijard  to  the  truth  of  the  others.  But.  in  realitv,  on  this  hvpothe- 
sis,  the  problem  is  already  decided  ;  their  character  for  truth  is  gone  ;  and  all 
subse([uent  canvassing  of  tlu-ir  probal)ility  is  profitless  speculation. 

Kant  started,  like  the  philosopliei-s  in  general,  with  the  non-acceptance  ol 
the  deliverance  of  Consciousness,  —  that  we  are  immediately  cognizant  of 
extended  objects.  This  first  step  decidi  d  ilic  destiny  of  his  pliilosophy.  Tlie 
external  worhl,  as  known,  was,  therefore,  only  a  phienf)nierion  of  tJie  intt-rnal  ; 
and  our  knowledije  in  "cneral  onlv  of  self,  the  objective  «inlv  subjective  :  a\\i\ 

1  See  Reids  Works,  p.  746.  —  ED. 


646  A  r  p  E  x  I)  I X . 

truth  only  the  haniiony  of  thought  with  thought,  not  of  thought  with  things; 

—  reality  only  a  necessary  illusion.  ^I 

It  was  (juitc  in  order,  that  Kant  should  canvass  the  veracity  of  all  our  pri- 
mary beliefs,  having  founded  his  philosophy  on  the  presumed  falsehood  of  one  ; 
and  an  in(juiry  followed  out  with  such  consistency  and  talent  could  not,  from 
such  a  commencement,  terminate  in  a  different  result. 


(c.)  General  Characteristics  of  the  Scottish  School. 

(Written  in  connection  with  proposed  Memoir  of  Mr.  Dugali)  Stewart.      On 
Desk,  May  1856;  written  Autumn  185.5.  —  Ed.) 

The  Scottish  School  of  Philosophy  is  distinctively  characterized  by  its  oppo- 
sition to  all  the  destructive  schemes  of  speculation  ;  —  in  particular,  to  Skepti- 
cism, or  the  uncertainty  of  Knowledge ;  to  Idealism,  or  the  non-existence  of 
the  material  world  ;  to  Fatalism,  or  the  denial  of  a  moral  universe.  Reid  has 
the  merit  of  originating  this  movement,  and  Stewart  the  honor  of  continuing, 
and  promoting,  and  extending  it. 

In  the  philosophy  which  prevailed  before  Descartes,  in  whose  doctrines  it  may 
be  affirmed  that  modern  speculation  took  its  rise,  we  find  all  these  schemes, 
indeed,  but  all  marked  and  modified  in  a  peculiar  manner.  In  antiquity,  we 
have  the  skepticism  of  Pyrrho  and  ^Enesidemus ;  but  this,  however  ingenious 
its  object,  never  became  popular  or  dangerous,  and  without  a  formal  or  decisive 
refutation,  gradually  died  out. 

In  the  scholastic  ages.  Idealism  was  [countenanced]  by  the  dominant  psychol- 
ogy, and  would  perhaps  have  taken  root,  but  for  the  check  it  encountered  from 
the  Church,  to  the  dogmas  of  which  all  philosophy  was  then  voluntarily  sub- 
jected. The  doctrine  of  Representative  Perception,  in  its  cruder  form,  was 
generally  accepted,  and  the  question  often  mooted,  "  Could  not  God  maintain 
the  species  in  the  sensory,  the  object  (external  reality)  being  annihilated  ?  " 
This  problem,  as  philosophy  affirmed,  theology  denied.  It  was  possible,  nay 
probable,  according  to  the  former;  impossible,  because  heretical,  according  to 
the  latter.  ^ 

Finally,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Absolute  decrees  of  God  might,  at  the  first 
view,  be  thought,  not  only  to  favor,  but  to  establish,  a  doctrine  of  unconditioned 
Fatalism.  But  this  inference  was  disavowed  by  the  most  strenuous  advocate* 
of  Prescience  and  Predestination  ;  and  the  Freewill  of  man  asserted  no  less 
vehemently  than  the  Free  Grace  of  God. 


(d)  Kant  and  Reid. 

(Written  iu  connection  with  proposed  Memoir  of  Mr.  Stewart.     On  Desk,  May, 
1856;  written  Autumn  1855. — Ed.) 

******* 
In  like  manner,  Kant  assailed  Skepticism,  and  the  skepticism  of  Hume ;  but 
with  a  very  different  result.     For,  if  in  one  conclusion  he  controverted  skep- 

1  See  Discussiotis,  p.  198,  second  edition,  —  why  Idealism  and  the  doctrine  of  Transubstan' 
tifttioD  were  incompatible. 


A' 


APPENDIX.  647 

ticism,  lie  himself  introduced  and  patronized  the  most  unexclusive  doubt.  He 
showed,  indeed,  tliat  Hume's  rejection  of  the  notion  of  Causality  was  groundless. 
He  proved  that,  although  this  notion  was  not,  and  oouhl  not  be,  constructed 
from  experience,  still  causality  was  a  real  and  efficient  principle,  native  and 
necessary  in  human  intelligence  ;  and  that  although  experience  did  not  explain 
its  genesis,  experience  always  supposes  its  operation.  So  far  so  good.  But 
Kant  did  not  stop  here.  He  endeavored  to  evince  that  pure  Reason,  that 
Intelligence  is  naturally,  is  necessarily,  repugnant  with  itself,  and  that  specula- 
tion ends  in  a  series  of  insoluble  antilogies.  In  its  highest  potence,  in  its  very 
•essence,  thought  is  thus  infected  with  contradiction  ;  and  the  worst  and  most 
pervading  skepticism  is  the  melancholy  result.  If  I  have  done  anything  meri- 
torious m  philosophy,  it  is  in  the  attempt  to  explain  the  phienomena  of  these 
<'ontra<lictions ;  in  showing  that  thev  arise  only  when  intelliaence  tran.scends 
the  limits  to  which  its  legitimate  exercise  is  restricted  ;  and  that  within  these 
bounds  (the  Conditioned),  natural  thought  is  neither  fallible  nor  mendacious — 

"Neque  decipitiir,  nee  decipit  umquam." 

If  this  view  be  correct,  Kant's  antinomies,  with  their  cotisequent  skepticism, 
are  solved ;  and  the  human  mind,  however  weak,  is  shown  not  to  be  the  work 
of  a  treacherous  Creator. 

Reid,  on  the  contrary,  did  not  subvert  the  trustworthiness  of  the  one  witness, 
on  whose  absolute  veracity  he  relied.  In  his  hands  natural  (and,  therefore,  nec- 
essary) thought,  —  Consciousness,  —  Common  Sense,  —  are  always  held  out  as 
entitled  to  our  implicit  and  thorough-going  confidence.  The  fact  of  the  testi- 
mony sufficiently  guarantees  the  truth  of  what  the  testimony  avouches.  The 
testimony,  if  delivered,  is  to  be  believed  pro  tanio  impeccable. 
*  ***** 


(e)  Kant's    Doctrine   of    Space   and   Time. 
(Fragments  from  earl    Papers.     Probably  before  1836.  —  Ed.) 

Kant,  1°,  Made  our  actual  world  one  merely  of  illusion.  Time  and  Space, 
tinder  which  we  must  perceive  and  think,  he  reduced  to  mere  subjective  spec- 
tral forms,  which  have  no  real  archetype  in  the  noumenal  or  real  universe. 
We  can  infer  nothing  from  this  to  that.  Cause  and  Effect  govern  thing  and 
thought  in  the  world  of  Space  and  Time  ;  the  relation  will  not  subsist  where 
Time  and  Space  have  no  reality.  (Lines  from  Fracastorius.)'  Corresponds 
with  the  Platonic,  but  more  thorougli-going.  Kant.  2°.  Maile  Reason,  Intelli- 
gence, contradi<'t  itself  in  its  leiritimate  exercise.  Antiloirv,  —  antinomv.  iiart 
and  parcel  of  its  nature;  not  only  '•  rea.^iouing,  but  to  err."  but  reason  itself 

Thus,  the  conviction  that  we  live  in  a  worhl  of  unreality  and  illusion,  and 
that  our  very  faculty  of  knowledge  is  only  given  us  to  nii.slead,  is  the  ivsult  of 
our  criticism,  —  Skepticism. 

On  the  contrary,  my  doctrine  holds,  l'^.  That  Space  and  Time,  as  given,  are 
real  forms  of  thought  and  conditions  of  tilings ;  2",  That  Intelligence, —  Reason, 

1  See  leer.  xxi.  p.  290.  —  Ed 


648  APPENDIX. 

—  within  its  legitimate  limits,  is  legitimate  ;  within  this  sphere  it  never  de- 
ceives; and  it  is  only  when  transcending  that  sphere,  when  founding  on  its 
illegitimate  as  on  its  legitimate  exeri;ise,  tliat  it  affords  a  contradictory  result ; 
"  Nc  sapiamus  ultra  facultates."  The  dogmatic  assertion  of  necessity,  —  of 
Fatalism,  and  the  dogmatic  assertion  of  Liberty,  are  the  counter  and  equally 
inconceivable  conclusions  from  reliance  on  the  illeeitimate  and  one-sided. 


Kant  holds  the  subjectivity  of  Space  (and  Time),  and,  if  he  does  not  deny, 
will  not  affirm  the  existence  of  a  real  space,  external  to  our  minds ;  because  it 
is  a  mere  form  of  our  perceptive  faculty.  He  holds  that  we  have  no  knowl- 
edge of  any  external  thing  as  really  existing,  and  that  all  our  perceptions  are 
merely  appearances,  ('.  e.  subjective  representations,  —  subjective  modifications, 
—  which  the  mind  is  determined  to  exhibit,  as  an  apparently  objective  opposi- 
tion to  itself,  —  its  pure  and  real  subjective  modifications.  Yet,  while  he  gives 
up  the  external  existence  of  space,  as  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness,  he 
holds  the  reality  of  external  material  existences  (things  in  themselves),  which 
are  equally  beyond  the  sphere  of  consciousness.  It  was  incumbent  on  him  to 
render  a  reason  for  this  seeming  inconsistency,  and  to  explain  how  his  system 
was  not,  in  its  legitimate  conclusions,  an  universal  Idealism ;  and  he  has 
accordingly  attempted  to  establish,  by  necessary  inference,  what  his  philosophy 
could  not  accept  as  an  immediate  fact  of  consciousness. 

In  the  second  edition  of  his  Kritik  dtr  Heine n  Vernwift,  he  has  accordingly 
given  what  he  calls  a  "strict,  and,  as  he  is  convinced,  the  only  possible,  demon- 
stration for  the  objective  reality  of  our  external  perceptions;  "  and,  at  the  same 
time,  he  declares  that  it  would  be  the  eternal  scandal  of  Philosophy,  and  the 
general  reason  of  mankind,  if  we  were  compelled  to  yield  our  assent  to  the 
existence  of  an  external  world,  only  as  an  article  of  Faith,  and  were  unable  to 
oppose  a  satisfactory  refutation  to  any  skeptical  objections  that  might  be  sug- 
gested touching  their  reality  (Vorredc,  p.  xxxix).  The  demonstration  which 
is  thus  exclusively  and  confidently  pi-oposed,  attempts  to  prove,  that  the  exist- 
ence of  an  external  world  is  involved  in  the  very  consciousness  of  self,  —  that 
without  a  Thou,  there  can  be  no  /,  and  that  the  Cogito  ergo  sum  is  not  more 

certain  than  the  Cogito  ergo  es. 

*  ♦»#♦** 


n.  — PHYSIOLOGICAL.     (Seep.  183.) 

(a.)   PURENOLOGY. 


Such  is  a  very  general  view  of  that  system  [the  Nervous]  and  its  relations, 
which  physiologists  and  philosophers  in  general  have  held  to  be  the  proximate 
organ  of  the  thinking  principle,  and  many  to  be  even  the  thinking  principle  itselt 


APPENDIX.  6-lD 

That  the  mind,  in  Its  lower  energies  and  affections,  is  immediately  dependent 
on  the  conditions  of"  the  nervous  system,  and  tliat.  in  general,  the  dev«'lopnient 
of  the  brain  in  the  different  species  of  animals  is  correspondent  to  their  intelli- 
gence,—  these  are  conclusions  established  upon  an  induction  too  extensi-ve  and 
too  certain  to  admit  of  doubt.  But  when  we  attempt  to  proceed  a  step  farther, 
and  to  connect  the  mind  or  its  faculties  with  jiarticular  pariii  of  the  nervous 
system,  we  find  ourselves  at  once  checked.  Observation  and  experiment  seem 
to  fail;  they  afford  only  obscure  and  varying  reports;  and  if,  in  this  uncer- 
tainty, we  hazard  a  conclusion,  this  is  only  a  theory  established  upon  some 
arbitrary  hypotheses,  in  which  fictions  stand  in  place  of  facts.  The  uncertainty 
of  such  coiulusioiis  is  shown  l)y  the  unexampled  diversity  of  opinion  that  has 
always  reigned  among  those  who,  discontented  with  a  prudent  ignorance,  have 
attempted  to  explain  the  phiEnomena  of  mind  by  the  phaenomena  of  organiza- 
tion. 

In  the  first  place,  some  (and  their  opinion  is  not,  certainly,  tlie  least  philo- 
sophical) hold  that,  in  relation  to  the  b6dy,  the  soul  is  less  contained  than  con- 
taining,—  that  it  is  all  in  the  whole,  and  all  in  every  part.  This  is  the  com- 
mon doctrine  of  many  of  the  Fathers,  and  of  the  scholastic  Aristotelians.^ 

In  the  second  jjlace,  others  have  attempted  to  connect  the  conscious  princi- 
ple in  general  with  a  particular  part  of  the  organism,  but  by  very  diffen-nt 
relations.  Some  place  it  there,  as  in  a  local  seat;  others  make  it  dependent 
on  that  part,  as  on  its  organ ;  while  others  hold  that  the  mind  stands  in  a  more 
immediate  relation  to  this  part,  only  because  it  is  the  point  of  convergence 
where  all  the  bodily  sensations  meet.  I  shall  not  attempt  to  enumerate  the 
hundred  and  oner  conjectures  in  regard  to  tiie  point  in  the  corporeal  organism, 
in  proximate  connection  with  the  mind.  It  would  occupy  more  than  our  hour 
to  give  you  even  a  summary  account  of  the  hypotheses  on  this  subject. 

In  the  third  place,  no  opinion  has  been  more  generally  prevalent  than  that 
ilifferent  faculties  and  dispositions  of  the  mind  are  dependent  on  different  parts 
of  the  bodily  organism,  and  more  esjiecially  on  different  parts  of  the  nervous 
system.  Under  this  head,  I  shall  state  to  you  one  or  two  of  the  more  famous 
opinions.  The  most  celebrated  doctrine  —  that  which  was  more  universally 
adopted,  and  i'or  a  longer  period,  than  any  other  —  was  that  whidi.  with  cer- 
tain modifications,  assigned  different  jilaces  in  the  Encephalos  to  Memory, 
Imagination,  Sense,  and  the  Locomotive  Faculty,  —  Reason  or  Intelligence 
being  left  inorganic.  This  opinion  we  trace  upward,  through  the  Latin  and 
Arabian  schools,'^  to  St.  Austin."  Nemesius,^  the  (ireek  physician  Aetius,  and 
even  to  the  anatomists  Kufus  and  Posiddiiiiis.  Memory,  on  this  hypothesis, 
was  plaied  in  the  substance  of  the  cerebellum,  or  in  the  subjacent  ventricle; 
and  as  the  phrenologists  now  attempt  to  prove  that  the  seat  of  this  faculty  lies 
above  the  eyebrows,  by  the  alleged  fact  that,  when  a  man  wislics  to  stimulaf(? 
his  recollection,  he  rubs  the  lower  part  of  his  foreliead. — .xo,  of  old,  the  same 
conclusion  was  established  oji  the  more  ])Iau'iit>le  assertion,  that  a  man  in  sucjj 


I  .*ee  lecf.  NX.  p.  271.  —  Er>.  •''  Dt  (imrfi  ad  Litrram,   1.   vii.  cnp».  wii. 

ii  (.><»H'  tiatisciiili,   P/i;/.'i<f'«,  M'i- ni*"'"''- P"*''-      .wiii. —  Ei>.     [Sec  roiincmaii.  f.  \    p  241] 
1.  viii.      Oprrit,  t.  ii.   pj).   400,  401.      AvcrriK-,'.  *   !>'   yntiim    H.iniuii.^.  c    .\iii.   ji.   204.    wlit 

Dutritct    DfUnirtionum.   Arift.  Optra,  t.   \    |«        .M:itt1i;ii. —  Kl>. 
340.     Veiiico,  15()0.] 

82 


650  APPENDIX. 

circumstances  naturally  scratches  the  back  of  his  head.     The  one  indication  is 
at  least  as  good  as  the  other. 

Amonsr  niodern  physiologists,  Willis  was  the  first  who  attempted  a  new  attri' 
l)ution  of  mental  functions  to  different  parts  of  the  nervous  system.  He  placed 
Perception  and  Sensation  in  the  corpus  callosum,  Imagination  and  Appetite  in 
the  corpora  striata,  Memory  in  the  cerebral  convolutions.  Involuntary  Motion 
in  the  cerebellum,  etc.;  and  to  Willis  is  to  be  traced  the  determination, so  con- 
spicuous among  subserpicnt  physiologists,  of  attributing  different  mental  uses  to 
different  parts  of  the  brain. 

It  would  be  bootless  to  state  to  you  the  man)-  various  and  contradictory  con- 
jectures in  regard  to  these  uses.  To  psychologists  they  are,  with  one  excep- 
tion, all  comparatively  uninteresting,  as,  were  they  even  ascertained  to  be 
something  better  than  conjectures,  still,  as  the  physical  condition  is  in  all  of 
them  occult,  it  could  not  be  applied  as  an  instrument  of  psychological  discov- 
ery. The  exception  which  I  make  is,  the  celebrated  doctrine  of  Gall.  If 
true,  that  doctrine  would  not  only  afford  us  a  new  instrument,  but  would  in  a 
great  measure  supersede  the  old.  In  fact,  the  psychology  of  consciousness,  and 
the  psychology  founded  on  (jail's  organology,  are  mere  foolishness  to  each 
other.  They  arrive  at  conclusions  the  most  contradictory ;  insomuch  that  the 
estal)lishment  of  the  one  necessarily  supposes  the  subversion  of  the  other. 

In  these  circumstances,  no  one  interested  in  the  philosophy  of  man  can  be 
indifferent  to  an  inquiry  into  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  new  doctrine.  This 
doctrine  cannot  be  passed  over  with  contempt.  It  is  maintained  not  only  by 
too  many,  but  by  too  able  advocates,  to  be  summarily  rejected.  That  its 
results  are  repugnant  to  those  previously  admitted,  is  but  a  sorry  reason  for 
not  in(juiring  into  their  foundation.  This  doctrine  professes  to  have  discovered 
new  ])rinciples,  and  to  arrive  at  new  conclusions ;  and  the  truth  or  falsehood 
of  these  cannot,  therefore,  be  estimated  merely  by  their  conformity  or  discon- 
formity  with  those  old  results  which  the  new  professedly  refute.  To  do  so 
would  be  mere  prejudice,  —  a  mere  assumption  of  the  point  at  issue.  At  the 
same  time,  this  doctrine  professes  to  be  founded  on  sensible  facts.  Sensible 
facts  must  be  shown  to  be  false,  not  by  reasoning,  but  by  experiment ;  for,  as 
old  Fernelius  has  well  expressed  it,  —  "  Insipientis  arrogantise  est  argumenta- 
tionis  necessitatem  sensuum  testimonio  anteponere."  To  oppose  such  a  doc- 
trine in  such  a  manner  is  not  to  refute,  but  to  recommend ;  and  yet,  unfortu- 
nately, this  lias  been  tlie  usual  mode  in  which  the  organology  of  Gall  and  his 
followers  has  been  assailed.  Such  an  opinion  must  be  taken  on  its  own  ground. 
We  must  join  issue  with  it  upon  the  facts  and  inferences  it  embraces.  If  the 
facts  are  true,  and  if  the  inferences  necessarily  follow,  the  opinion  must  be 
-admitted ;  the  sooner,  therefore,  that  we  candidly  inquire  into  these  the  better, 
for  it  is  only  thus  that  we  shall  be  enabled  to  form  a  correct  estimate  of  the 
evidence  on  which  such  a  doctrine  rests. 

With  these  views  I  many  years  ago  undertook  an  investigation  of  the  funda- 
mental facts  on  which  the  phrenological  doctrine,  as  it  is  unfortunately  called, 
is  established.  By  a  fundamental  fact  I  mean  a  fact,  by  the  truth  of  which  the 
hypothesis  could  be  proved,  and,  consequently,  by  the  falsehood  of  which  it 
could  be  disproved.  Now,  what  are  such  facts  ?  The  one  condition  of  such  a 
fact  is,  that  it  should  be  general.     The  phrenological  theory  is,  that  there  is  a 


APPENDIX.  651 

correspondence  between  the  volume  of  certain  parts  of  the  brain,  and  the 
intensity  of  certain  qualities  of  mind  and  character ;  —  the  former  they  call 
development,  the  latter  manifestation.  Now,  individual  ca.scs  of  alleged  con- 
formity of  development  and  manifestation  could  prove  little  in  favor  of  the 
doctrine,  as  individual  cases  of  alleged  disconformity  could  jjrove  little  against 
it;  because,  1^,  The  phrenologists  had  no  standard  by  which  the  proj)Ortion  of 
cerebral  development  could  be  measured  by  themselves  or  their  opponents , 
2°,  Because  the  mental  manifestation  was  vague  and  indeterminate;  3',  Be- 
cause they  had  introduced,  as  subsidiary  hypotheses,  the  occult  qualities  of 
temperament  and  activity,  so  that,  in  individual  cases,  any  given  head  could 
always  be  explained  in  harmony  with  any  given  character.  Individual  cases 
were  thus  ambiguous;  thev  were  worthless  either  to  establish  or  to  refute  the 
theory.  But  where  the  phrenologist  had  proclaimed  a  general  fact,  by  that 
fact  their  doctrine  could  be  tried.  For  example,  when  they  asserted  as  the 
most  illustrioTis  discovery  of  Gall,  and  as  the  surest  inference  of  their  doctrine, 
that  the  cerebellum  is  the  organ  of  the  sexual  appetite,  and  established  this 
inference  as  the  basis  of  certain  general  facts  which,  as  conmion  to  the  whole 
animal  kingdom,  could  easily  be  made  matter  of  precise  experiment ;  —  by 
these  facts  the  truth  of  their  doctrine  could  be  brought  to  the  test,  and  this  on 
ground  the  most  favorable  for  them.  For  the  general  probability  of  their  doc- 
trine was  thus  estimated  by  the  truth  of  its  best-established  element.  But,  oi» 
the  other  hand,  if  such  general  facts  were  found  false,  their  disproval  atTorded 
the  most  satisfactory  refutation  of  the  whole  system.  For  the  phrenologists 
themselves  readily  admit,  that  their  theory  is  exploded,  if  their  doctrine  of  the 
function  of  the  cerebellum  is  disproved.  Because,  therefore,  an  examination 
of  the  general  facts  of  Phrenology  was  at  once  decisive  and  comparati\ely 
easy,  I  determined,  on  this  ground,  to  try  the  truth  of  the  opinion.  I  shall 
state  to  you  very  generally  a  few  results  of  the  investigation,  of  which  I  may, 
without  boasting,  alhrm  that  no  iiKjuiry  of  the  kind  was  ever  conducted  with 
greater  care  or  more  scrupulous  accuracy. 

I  shall  commence  with  the  phrenological  dor-trine  of  the  cerebellum,  on 
which  you  will  see  the  propriety  of  dwelling  as  briefly  as  I  can.  I  may  men- 
lion  that  the  extent  of  my  experiments  on  this  organ  is  wholly  unconnected 
with  Phrenologv.  My  attention  wa.s,  indeed,  originally  turned  to  the  relation 
of  the  after-brain  to  the  other  parts  of  the  nervous  system,  when  testing  the 
accuracy  of  the  phrenological  doctrine  on  this  point;  but  that  end  was  very 
soon  accomplished,  and  it  was  certain  discoveries  which  I  made  in  reganl  to 
the  laws  of  (levelo|)ment  and  the  function  of  this  organ,  and  the  desire  ot' 
establishing  these  iiy  an  iiidnction  from  as  many  of  the  species  as  possible  of 
the  animal  kingdom,  that  led  me  ii\to  a  more  extensive  inijuiry  than  ha-*  hith- 
erto been  instituted  by  an\  professional  physiologist.  When  I  publish  its 
results,  they  will  disprove  ;i  liundred  times  over  all  the  |>hrenological  assertions 
ill  regard  to  the  cerebellnin:  hut  this  will  be  only  an  accidental  circiimstaixe. 
and  of  comparatively  littU'  iini)ortaiici>.  I  may  add.  that  my  tables  extend  to 
above  one  thousand  brains  of  aiiove  fifty  sj)ecies  of  animals,  accurately  weighed 
by  a  delicate  balance;  and  you  will  leuiark  that  the  phrenolotn'sts  have  not  a 
single  observation  of  any  accuracy  to  which  tlu'V  van  appeal.  The  only  evi- 
dence in  the  shape  of  precise  experiment  on  which  they  can  found,  is  a  table 


C52  APPENDIX. 

of  Serres,  Avho  is  no  i)hrenolo<j;ist,  aflbrding  the  general  aversiges  of  certain 
weighings,  said  to  have  been  made  by  him,  of  the  brain  and  cerebellum,  in  the 
human  subject.  I  shall  prove  that  table  an  imaginary  fabrication  in  support 
of  a  now  exploded  hypothesis  of  the  author 

The  alleged  tacts  on  which  Gall  and  his  followei"s  establish  their  conclusion 
n  regard  to  the  function  of  the  cerebellum,  are  the  following: 

The  first  is,  that  in  all  animals,  females  have  this  organ,  on  an  average, 
irreatly  smaller,  in  jjroportion  to  the  brain  proper,  than  males.  Now,  so  far  is 
this  assertion  from  being  correct,  it  is  the  very  reverse  of  truth ;  and  I  have 
ascertained,  by  an  immense  induction,  that  in  no  species  of  animal  has  the 
female  a  proportionally  smaller  cerebellum  than  the  male,  but  that  in  most 
species,  and  this  according  to  a  certain  law,  she  has  a  considerably  larger.  In 
no  animal  is  this  ditl'erence  more  determinate  tlian  in  man.  Women  have  on 
an  average  a  cerebellum  to  the  brain  jjroper,  as  1  :  7 ;  men  as  1:8.  This  is 
a  general  fact  which  I  have  completely  established.' 

The  second  alleged  fact  is,  that  in  impuberal  animals  the  cerebellum  is  in 
proportion  to  the  brain  proper  greatly  less  than  in  adults.  This  is  equally 
erroneous.  In  all  animals,  long  previous  to  puberty,  has  the  cerebellum  at- 
tained its  maximum  proportion.  And  here  also  I  am  indebted  to  the  phrenol- 
ogists for  having  led  me  to  make  the  discovery  of  another  curious  law,  and  to 
establish  the  real  function  of  the  cerebellum.  Physiologists  have  hitherto  be- 
lieved that  the  cerebella  of  all  animals,  indifferently,  were,  for  a  certain  period 
subsequent  to  birth,  greatly  less,  in  proportion  to  the  brain  proper,  than  in 
adults ;  and  have  taken  no  note  of  the  differences  in  this  respect  between  dif- 
ferent classes.  Thus,  completely  wrong  in  regard  to  the  fact,  they  have  neces- 
sarily overlooked  the  law  by  which  it  is  governed.  In  those  animals  that  have 
from  the  first  the  full  power  of  voluntary  motion,  and  which  depend  immedi- 
ately on  their  own  exertions,  and  on  their  own  power  of  assimilation  for  nutri- 
ment, the  proportion  of  the  cerebellum  is  as  large,  nay,  larger,  than  in  the 
adult.  In  the  chicken  of  the  common  fowl,  pheasant,  partridge,  etc.,  this  is  the 
case ;  and  most  remarkably  after  the  first  week  or  ten  days,  when  the  yolk 
(corresponding  in  a  certain  sort  to  the  milk  in  quadrupeds)  has  been  ab- 
sorbed. In  the  calf,  kid,  lamb,  and  probably  in  the  colt,  the  proportion  of  the 
cerebellum  at  birth  is  very  little  less  than  in  the  adult.  In  those  birds  that 
do  not  possess  at  once  the  full  power  of  voluntary  motion,  but  which  are  in  a 
rapid  state  of  growth,  the  cerebellum,  within  a  few  days  at  least  after  being 
hatched,  and  by  the  time  the  yolk  is  absorbed,  is  not  less  or  larger  than  in  the 
adult;  the  pigeon,  sparrow,  etc.,  etc.,  are  examples.  In  the  young  of  those 
quadrupeds  that  for  some  time  wholly  depend  for  support  on  the  milk  of  the 
mother,  aa  on  half-assimilated  food,  and  which  have  at  first  feeble  powers  of 
regulated  motion,  the  proportion  of  the  cerebellum  to  the  brain  proper  is  at 
birth  very  small ;  but,  by  the  end  of  the  full  period  of  lactation,  it  has  with 
them  as  with  other  animals  (nor  is  man  properly  an  exception),  reached  the 
full  proportion  of  the  adult.  This,  for  example,  is  seen  in  the  young  rabbit, 
kitten,  whelp,  etc.  ;  in  them  the  cerebellum  is  to  the  brain  proper  at  birth 
about  as  1  to  14 ;  at  six  and  eight  weeks  ofd,  about  as  1  to  6.     Pigs,  etc.,  as 

.  1  See  below  (6)   On  Weight  of  Brain,  p.  658.  —  Ed. 


1 


APPENDIX.  608 

possessing  iramediatoly  the  power  of  regulated  motion,  but  wliolly  d(!pendenl 
on  the  milk  of  the  motlier  (luring  at  least  the  first  month  after  birth,  exhibit  a 
medium  between  the  two  elasses.  At  birth  the  proportion  is  in  them  as  1  to 
"9,  in  the  adult  as  1  to  6.  This  analogy,  at  which  I  now  only  hint,  has  never 
been  suspected ;  it  points  at  the  new  and  important  conclusion  (corrolxirateil 
by  many  other  facts),  that  the  cerebellum  is  the  intracranial  organ  of  the  nu- 
tritive faculty,  that  term  being  taken  in  its  broadest  signification  ;  and  It  con- 
firms also  an  old  opinion,  recently  revived,  that  it  is  the  condition  of  voluntary 
or  systematic  motion.^ 

The  third  alleged  fact  is,  that  the  proportion  of  the  cerebellum  to  the  brain 
proper  in  different  species,  is  in  proportion  to  the  energn  of  the  phrenological 
function  attributed  to  it.  This  assertion  is  uroundless  as  the  others.  There 
are  many  other  fictions  in  regard  to  this  organ  ;  but  these,  I  think,  are  a  suf- 
ficient specimen  of  the  truth  of  the  doctrine  in  regard  to  the  function  of  thft 
cerebellum  ;  and  the  cerebellum,  you  will  recollect,  is  the  citadel  of  I'lirenology. 

I  shall,  however,  give  you  the  sample  of  another  general  fact.  The  organ  of 
Veneration  rises  in  the  middle  on  the  coronal  surface  of  the  head.  Women,  it 
is  universally  admitted,  manifest  religious  feeling  more  strongly  and  generally 
than  men;  and  the  phrenologists  accordingly  assert,  thaf.  the  female  cranium  is 
higher  in  proportion  in  that  region  than  the  male.  This  I  found  to  be  the  very 
reverse  of  truth,  by  a  compai'ative  average  of  nearly  two  hundred  skulls  of 
either  se.K.  In  man,  the  female  encephalos  is  considerably  smaller  than  that  of 
the  male,  and  in  shape  the  crania  of  the  sexes  are  different.  By  what  dimen- 
sion is  the  female  skull  less  than  the  male  V  The  female  skull  is  longer,  it  is 
nearly  as  broad,  but  it  is  much  lower  than  the  male.  This  is  only  one  of  sev- 
eral curious  sexual  differences  of  the  head. 

I  do  not  know  whether  it  be  worth  whde  mentioning,  that,  by  a  comparison 
of  all  the  crania  of  murderers  preserved  in  the  Anatomical  IMuseum  of  this 
University,  with  al)out  nearly  two  hundred  ordinary  skulls  inthlferently  taken, 
I  found  that  tiiese  criminals  exhibited  a  development  of  the  phrenological  or- 
gans of  Destructiveness  and  other  evil  propensities  smaller,  and  a  development 
of  the  higher  moral  and  intelle<tual  qualities  larger,  than  the  average.  Nay, 
more,  the  same  I'l-sult  was  obtained  when  thi'  nnirderi-rs'  skulls  were  comjiarcd, 
not  merely  with  a  conunon  average,  but  with  the  individual  crania  of  Robert 
Bruce,  George  Buchanan,  anrl  ])r.  David  Gregory. 

I  omit  all  notice  of  many  other  decisive  facts  subversive  of  the  hypothesis  in 
question  ;  but  I  cannot  leave  the  subject  without  alluding  to  one  which  dis- 
proves, at  one  blow,  a  multitudi'  of  organs,  affords  a  significant  example  of  their 
accuracy-  of  statement,  and  shows  how  easily  manifestation  can,  by  the  phrenol- 
ogists, be  accommodated  to  any  development,  real  or  supposeil.  I  refer  to  the 
Frontal  Sinuses.  These  are  cavities  between  the  tables  of  the  frontal  bone  in 
consequence  of  a  divergence  from  each  other.  Tlicy  are  found  in  all  puberal 
crania,  and  are  of  variable  and  [from  without]  wholly  ina]ipn'(ial)le  extent  and 
depth.  AViiere  they  e.xist,  tlu'V  of  course  interpose  an  insu|icral)le  bar  to  any 
estimate  of  tlie  cerebral  development;  and  their  extent  being  undiscoverable. 
they  completely  baffle  all  certain  ob.servation.     Now,  the  phrenologists  have. 

1  From  a  comniunicafioii  by  the  Autlior,  prjnteil  in  Dr.  Munro's  Anatomy  0/ tfu  Brain,  pp 
6,  7      See  below  (i)  On   Weight  of  Brain.  —  Kd. 


654  APPENDIX. 

fortunately  or  unfortunately,  concentrated  the  whole  of  their  very  smallest'on 
gans  over  the  region  of  the  sinus ;  which  thus,  independently  of  other  imped- 
iments, renders  all  phrenological  observation  more  or  less  uncertain  in  regard 
to  sixteen  of  their  organs.  Of  these  cavities  the  anatomists  in  general  seem  to 
have  known  not  much,  and  the  phrenologists  absolutely  nothing.  At  least,  the 
former  are  wrong  in  many  of  their  positions,  the  latter  wrong  in  all.  I  shall 
give  you  a  sample  of  the  knowledge  and  consistency  of  the  phrenologists  on 
this  point. 

Gall  fii-st  of  all  answered  the  objection  of  the  sinus  by  asserting,  that  even 
when  it  existed,  the  plates  of  the  frontal  bone  were  still  parallel.  The  truth  is, 
that  the  cavity  is  only  formed  by  their  divergence  from  parallelism,  and  thus  it 
is  now  described  by  the  phrenologists  themselves.  In  his  latest  works.  Gall 
asserted  that  the  sinus  is  fretjuently  absent  in  men,  and  seldom  or  never  found 
in  women.     But  Spurzheim  carried  the  negation  to  its  highest  climax,  for  he  .| 

avers  (I  quote  his  words),  "  that  children  and-  young  adult  persons  have  no 
holes  between  the  two  tables  of  the  skull  at  the  forehead,  and  that  they  occur  | 

only  in  old  persons,  or  after  chronic  insanity."     He  did  not  always,  indeed,  as- 
sert as  much,  and  in  some  of  his  works  he  allows  that  they  throw  some  uncer- 
tainty over  the  organs  of  Individuality  and  Size,  but  not  much  over  that  of  .ij 
Locality.                                                                                                                                            '  i 

Now  the  fact  is,  as  I  have  established  by  an  inspection  of  several  hundred 
crania,  that  no  skull  Is  wll/iout  a  sinus.  This  is,  indeed,  the  common  doctrine 
of  the  anatomists.  But  I  have  also  proved  that  the  vulgar  doctrine  of  their 
increasing  in  extent  in  proportion  as  the  subject  advances  in  life,  is  wholly 
erroneous.  The  smallest  sinus  I  ever  saw  was  in  the  cranium  of  a  woman  of  a 
hundred  years  of  age. 

The  two  facts  —  the  fact  of  the  universal  existence  of  the  sinus,  and  its  great 
and  various  and  inappreciable  extent,  and  the  fact  of  the  ignorance  of  the 
phrenologists  in  regard  to  every  circumstance  connected  with  it  —  these  two 
facts  prove  that  these  observers  have  been  going  on  finding  always  manifesta- 
tion and  development  in  exact  conformity ;  when,  lo  !  it  turns  out,  that  in  '' 
nearly  half  their  organs,  the  protuberance  or  depression  apparent  on  the  ex-  ; 
ternal  bone  has  no  connection  with  any  correspondent  protuberance  or  de- 
pression in  the  brain.  Now,  what  does  this  evince  V  Not  merely  that  they 
were  wrong  in  regard  to  these  particular  observations  and  the  particular  organs 
established  upon  the  mistake.  Of  course,  the  whole  organs  lying  over  the 
sinuses  are  swept  away.  But  this  is  not  all ;  for  the  theory  supposes,  as  its 
condition,  that  the  amount  of  the  two  qualities  of  mental  manifestation  and 
cerebral  development  can  be  first  accurately  measured  apart,  and  then  com- 
pared together,  and  found  to  be  either  conformable  or  disoontbrmable  ;  and  the 
doctrine,  assuming  this  possibility,  proves  its  truth  only  by  showing  that  the 
two  qualities  thus  severally  estimated,  are,  in  all  cases,  in  proportion  to  each 
other.  Now,  if  the  possibility  thus  assumed  by  Phrenology  were  true,  it  would  at 
once  have  discovered  that  the  apparent  amount  of  development  over  the  sinus 
was  not  in  harmony  with  the  mental  manifestation.  But  this  it  never  did;  it 
always  found  the  apparent  or  cranial  develo^ent  over  the  sinus  conformable 
to  the  mental  manifestation,  though  this  bony  development  bore  no  more  a  pro- 
portion to  the  cerebral  brain,  than  if  it  had  been  looked  for  on  the  great  toe 


APPENDIX.  655 

and  thus  it  is  at  once  evident,  that  manifestation  and  development  in  general 
are,  in  their  hands,  sucii  factitious,  such  ailiitrarv  (|uantiiies,  that  they  can 
always,  under  any  circumstances,  be  easily  brou;.dit  into  unison.  Phrenology 
is  thus  shown  to  be  a  mere  leaden  rule,  which  bends  to  whatever  it  is  applied ; 
and,  therefore,  all  phrenological  observation  is  poisoned,  in  regard  even  to 
those  organs  where  a  similar  obstacle  did  not  prevent  the  discovery  of  the  cere- 
bral development.  Suppose  a  mathematician  to  propose  a  new  m»:diod  for  the 
solution  of  algebraical  equations.  If  we  applied  it  and  found  it  gave  a  falst 
result,  would  the  inventor  be  listened  to  if  he  said,  — "  True,  my  method  is 
wrong  in  these  cases  in  which  it  has  been  tried,  but  it  is  not,  therefore,  proved 
false  in  those  in  which  it  has  not  been  put  to  the  test  ?  "  Now,  this  is  precisely 
the  plea  I  have  heard  from  the  phrenologists  in  relation  to  the  sinus.  "  Well ! " 
they  say,  "  we  admit  that  Gall  and  Spurzheim  have  been  all  wrong  about  the 
sinus,  and  we  give  up  the  organs  above  the  eyes;  but  our  system  is  untouche'd 
in  the  others  which  are  situate  beyond  the  reach  of  tl.at  obno.xious  cavity." 
To  such  reasoning  there  was  no  answer. 

I  should  have  noticed,  that,  even  supposing  there  Aad  been  no  intervening 
caverns  in  the  forehead,  the  small  organs  arranged,  like  peas  in  a  pod,  along 
the  eyebrows  could  not  have  severally  manifested  any  differonce  of  develop- 
ment If  we  suppose  (what  I  make  bold  to  say  was  never  yet  observed  in  the 
brain)  that  a  portion  of  it  so  small  in  extent  as  any  one  of  the  six  phrenological 
organs  of  Form,  Size,  Weight,  Color,  Order,  and  Number,  which  lie  side  by  side 
upon  the  eyebrows,  was  ever  prominent  beyond  the  surrounding  surface,  —  I 
.say,  supposing  the  protuberance  of  so  small  a  spot  upon  the  cerebral  convolu- 
tions, it  could  never  determine  a  corresponding  eminence  on  the  external  table 
of  the  skull.  What  would  be  the  effect  of  such  a  protrusion  of  brain  upon  the 
cranium  ?  It  would  only  make  room  for  itself  in  the  thickness  of  the  bone 
which  it  would  attenuate.  This  is  shown  by  two  examples.  The  first  is  taken 
from  the  convolutions  themselves.  I  should,  however,  state,  that  convolution, 
and  stnfractuosity  or  furrow,  are  correlative  terras,  like  hill  and  valley,  —  the 
former  (convolutions)  being  applied  to  the  windings  of  the  cerebral  surface 
as  nsing  up,  —  the  latter  (anfractuosity,  or  furrow)  being  applied  to  them  as 
sinking  in.  Convolutions  are  the  winding  eminences  between  the  furrows; 
anfractuosities  the  winding  depressions  between  the  convolutions.  This  being 
understood,  we  find,  on  looking  to  the  internal  surface  of  the  cranium,  that 
the  convolutions  attenuate  the  bone,  which  is  sometimes  ipiite  transparent  — 
diaphanous — over  llicni,  wlicreas  it  remains  (piite  thick  over  the  anfractuosities  ; 
but  they  cause  no  ine((uality  on  the  outer  surface.  Yet  the  c(jii\c)lulions,  which 
thus  make  room  for  themselves  in  the  bone  without  elevating  it  externally,  are 
often  broader,  and  of  course  always  longer,  than  the  little  organs  which  tlic 
phrenologists  have  placed  along  the  eycl)rows.  A  fortiori,  therefore,  we  nmst 
suppose  that  an  organ  like  Size,  or  Wi-ight.  or  Color,  if  it  did  not  project 
bevoixl  th(^  surroundmi:  brain,  would  onlv  render  the  superincumbent  bone 
thinner,  without  causing  it  to  rise,  unless  we  a<hnit  that  nature  complaisantly 
changes  her  laws  in  accommodation  to  the  new  doctrine. 

But  we  have  another  jiarallel  instance  still  more  precisely  in  |)oint.  In 
manv  heads  thi'ri'  arc  certain  rounded  i-minences  (calli'd  (rlniKlulfc  Pdrchioni), 
on  the  coronal  surface  of  the  brain,  which  nearly  correspond  in  size  with  th» 


656  A  P  P  E  X  D  I  X . 

little  organs  in  question.  Now,  if  the  phrenological  supposition  were  correct, 
that  an  elevation  on  the  brain,  of  so  limited  an  extent,  would  cause  an  eleva-  | 

tion  on  the  external  table  of  the  bone,  —  these  eminences  would  do  so  far 
more  certiiinly  than  any  similar  projection  over  the  eyebrows.  For  the  frontal 
bone  in  the  frontal  region  is  under  the  continual  action  of  muscles,  and  this 
action  would  tend  powerfully  to  prevent  any  partial  elevation ;  whereas,  on  i 

the  upper  part  of  tlie  head,  the  bone  is  almost  wholly  exempt  from  such  an  | 

agency.  But  do  the  glands,  as  they  are  called,  of  Pacchioni  (though  they  are 
no  glands), — do  they  determine  an  elevation  on  the  external  surface  of 
the  skull  corresponding  to  the  elevation  they  form  on  the  cerebral  surface  V 
Not  in  the  very  least;  the  cranium  is  there  outwardly  quite  equable  —  level — 
uniform  —  though  probably  attenuated  to  wlie  thinness  of  paper  to  accommo- 
date the  internal  risinsf. 

The  other  facts  which  I  have  stated  as  subversive  of  what  the  phrenologists 
regard  as  the  best-established  constituents  of  their  sj'stem,  — I  could  only  state 
to  you  on  my  own  authority.  But  they  are  founded  on  observations  made  with 
the  greatest  accuracy,  and  on  phaenomena,  which  every  one  is  capable  of  veri- 
fying. If  the  genei-al  facts  I  ga\e  you  in  regard  to  the  cerebellum,  etc.,  are 
false,  then  am  I  a  deliberate  deceiver ;  lor  these  are  of  such  a  nature  that  no 
one  with  the  ordinary  discourse  of  reason  could  commit  an  error  in  regard  to 
them,  if  he  actually  made  the  observations.  The  maxim,  however,  which  I 
have  m3'self  always  followed,  and  which  I  would  earnestly  impress  upon  you, 
is  to  take  nothing  upon  trust  that  can  possibly  admit  of  doubt,  and  which  you 
are  able  to  verify  for  j'ourselves  ;  and  had  I  not  been  obliged  to  hurry  on  to 
more  important  subjects,  I  might  have  been  tempted  to  show  you  by  experi- 
ment v,hat  I  have  now  been  compelled  to  state  to  you  upon  authority  alone.* 

I  am  here  reminded  of  a  fact,  of  which  I  believe  none  of  our  present  phre- 
nologists are  aware,  —  at  least  all  their  books  confidently  assert  the  very  reverse. 
It  is  this,  —  that  the  new  system  is  the  r«sult,  not  of  experience  but  of  conjec- 
ture,—  and  that  Gall,  instead  of  deducing  the  faculties  from  the  organs,  and 
generalizing  both  from  particular  observations,  first  of  all  cogitated  a  faculty  a 
priori,  and  then  looked  about  for  an  organ  with  which  to  connect  it.  In  short, 
Phrenology  was  not  discovered,  but  invented. 

You  must  know,  then,  that  there  are  two  faculties,  or  rather  two  modifica- 
tions of  various  faculties,  which  cut  a  conspicuous  figure  in  the  psychologies  of 
Wolf  and  other  philosophers  of  the  Empire; — these  are  called  in  German 
Tiefsinn  and  Schar/sinn,  —  literally  deep  sense  and  sharp  sense,  but  are  now 
known  in  English  phrenological  language  by  the  terms  Causality  and  Compari- 
son. Now  what  I  wish  you  to  observe  is,  that  Gall  ibund  these  two  clumsv 
modifications  of  mind,  ready  shaped  out  in  the  previous  theories  of  philosophy 
prevalent  in  his  own  country,  and  then  in  the  language  itself.  Now,  this  being 
imderstood,  you  must  also  know  that,-in  1 798,  Gall  published  a  letter  to  Retzer, 
of  Vienna,  wherein  he,  for  the  first  time,  promulgates  the  nature  of  his  doc- 
trine, and  we  here  catch  him  —  reum  conjitenlem  —  in  the  verj-  act  of  conjec- 
tunng.  In  this  letter  he  says  :  '•  I  am  not  yet  so  far  advanced  in  my  researches 
as  to  have  discovered  special  organs  for  Scharfsinn  and  Tiefsinn  (Comparison 

1  See  below  (4)  On  Frontal  Sinuf,  p.  662.  —Ed 


APPENDIX.  B57 

and  Causality),  for  the  principle  of  the  Representative  Faculty  (  VorsteUunfjH- 
venitorjen,  —  another  faculty  in  German  philosophy),  and  for  the  different 
varieties  of  judgment,  etc."  In  this  sentence  we  see  exhibited  the  real  source 
and  veritable  derivation  of  the  system. 

In  the  Darstellung  of  Froriep,  a  favorite  pupil  of  Gall,  under  whose  eye  the 
work  was  published  in  the  year  1800,  twenty-two  organs  are  given,  of  which 
the  greater  projjortion  are  now  either  translated  to  new  localities,  or  altogether 
thrown  out.  We  find  also  that  the  sought-for  organs  had,  in  the  interval,  been 
found  for  Scharfsinn  (Comparison),  and  Tiefsinn  (Causality) ;  and  what  fur- 
ther exhibits  the  hypothetical  genealogy  of  the  doctrine,  is,  that  a  great  number 
of  organs  are  assumed,  which  lie  wholly  beyond  the  possible  sphere  of  observa- 
tion, at  the  base  and  towards  the  centre  of  the  brain  ;  as  those  of  the  External 
Senses,  those  of  Desire,  Jealousy,  Envy,  love  of  Power,  love  of  Pleasure,  love 
of  Life,  etc. 

An  organ  of  Sensibility  is  placed  above  that  of  Amativeness,  between  and 
below  two  organs  of  Philoprogenltiveness,  —  an  organ  of  Liberality  (its  defi- 
ciency standing  instead  of  an  organ  of  Avarice  or  Acquisitiveness),  is  situated 
above  the  eyebrows,  in  the  position  now  occupied  by  that  of  Time.  An  organ 
of  Imagination  is  intimately  connected  with  that  of  Theosophy  or  Veneration, 
towards  the  vertex  of  the  head ;  and  Veracity  is  problematically  established 
above  an  organ  of  Parental  Love.  An  organ  of  Vitality  is  not  to  be  forgotten, 
situated  in  the  medulla  oblongata,  the  development  of  which  is  measured  by  the 
size  of  the  foramen  magnum  and  the  thickness  of  the  neck.  These  faculties 
and  organs  are  all  now  cashiered  ;  and  who  does  not  perceive  that,  like  those 
of  Causality  and  Comparison,  which  are  still  suffered  to  remain,  they  were  first 
devised,  and  then  quartered  on  some  department  of  the  brain  ? 

We  thus  see  that,  in  the  first  edition  of  the  craniological  hypothesis,  there 
were  several  tiers  or  stories  of  organs,  —  some  at  the  base,  some  about  the 
centre,  and  others  on  the  surface  of  the  brain.  Gall  went  to  lecture  through 
Germany,  and  among  other  places  he  lectured  at  Gottingen.  Here  an  objec- 
tion was  stated  to  his  system  by  the  learned  Meiners.  Gall  measured  the 
development  of  an  external  organ  by  its  prominence.  "  How,"  said  Meiners, 
*' do  you  know  that  this  prominence  of  the  outer  organ  indicates  its  real  size? 
May  it  not  merely  be  pressed  out,  though  itself  of  interior  volume,  by  the  large 
development  of  a  subjacent  organ  ?  "  This  objection  it  was  easily  seen  was 
checkmate.  A  new  game  must  be  commenced,  the  pieces  arranged  again. 
Accordingly,  all  the  organs  at  the  base  and  about  the  centre  of  the  brain  were 
withdrawn,  and  the  whole  organs  were  made  to  run  very  conveniently  upwanls 
and  outwards  from  the  lower  part  of  the  brain  to  its  outer  periphery. 

It  would  be  tiresome  to  follow  the  history  of  phrenological  variation  through 
the  works  of  Leune  and  Villars  to  those  of  BischolT  and  Blode,  —  which  last 
represent  the  doctrine  as  it  flourished  in  ISO.'j.  In  these,  the  whole  comple- 
ment of  organs  wiiich  Gall  ever  admitted  is  detailed,  with  the  exception  of 
Ideality.  But  their  position  was  still  vacillating.  For  example,  in  Froriep, 
Bischoff  and  Blode,  the  organ  of  Destructiveness  is  exhibited  as  lying  princi- 
pally on  the  parietal  bone,  above  and  a  little  ant<.>rior  to  the  organ  of  Com- 
bativeness ;  while  the  region  of  the  temporal  bone,  above  and  before  the  open- 

83 


658  APPENDIX. 

ing  of  the  ear,  in  other  words,  its  present  situation,  is  marked  as  terra  adhuc 
incognita. 

No  circurastanoe,  however,  is  more  remarkable  than  the  sut-cessive  changes 
of  shape  in  the  organs.  Nothing  can  be  more  opposite  than  the  present  form 
of  these  as  compared  with  those  which  the  great  work  of  Gall  exhibits.  In 
Gall's  plates  they  are  round  or  oval ;  in  the  modern  casts  and  plates  they  are 
of  every  variety  of  angular  configuration  ;  and  I  have  been  told  that  almost 
every  new  edition  of  these  varies  from  the  preceding.  We  may,  thereforct 
well  apply  to  the  phrenologist  and  his  organology  the  line  of  Horace ' — 

"  Diruit,  aedificat,  mutat  qiiadrata  rotundis.  " 

■With  this  modification,  that  we  must  read   in  the   latter  part,  mutat   rotunda 
quadralis. 

So  much  for  Phrenology,  —  for  the  doctrine  which  would  substitute  the  cal- 
lipers for  consciousness  in  the  philosophy  of  man  ;  and  the  result  of  my  obser-. 
vation  —  the  result  at  which  I  would  wish  you  also  to  arrive  —  I  cannot  bette* 
express  than  in  the  language  of  the  Roman  poet  ■ — 

"Materia  ne  quare  modum,  sed  perspice  vires 
Quas  ratio,  non  pondus  habet  ■' 

In  what  I  have  said  in  opposition  to  the  phrenological  doctrine,  I  should, 
however,  regret  if  it  could  be  ever  supposed  that  I  entertain  any  feelings  of 
disrespect  for  those  who  are  converted  to  this  opinion.  On  the  contrary,  I  am 
prompt  to  acknowledge  that  the  sect  comprises  a  large  proportion  of  individu- 
als of  great  talent;  and  I  am  happy  to  count  among  these  some  of  my  most 
valued  and  respected  friends.  To  the  question,  how  comes  it  that  so  many 
able  individuals  can  be  believers  in  a  groundless  opinion  ?  — I  answer,  that  the 
opinion  is  not  wholly  groundless  ;  it  contains  much  of  truth,  —  of  old'  truth  it 
must  be  allowed ;  but  it  is  assuredly  no  disparagement  to  any  one  that  he 
should  not  refuse  to  admit  facts  so  strenuously  asserted,  and  which,  if  true,  so 
necessarily  infer  the  whole  conclusions  of  the  system.  But  as  to  the  mere 
circumstance  of  numbers,  that  is  of  comparatively  little  weight,  —  argumentwn 
pessimi  turha,  —  and  the  phrenological  doctrines  are  of  such  a  nature  that  they 
are  secure  of  finding  ready  converts  among  the  many.  There  have  been  also, 
and  there  are  now,  opinions  far  more  universally  prevalent  than  the  one  in 
question,  which  nevertheless  we  do  not  consider  on  that  account  to  be  unde- 
niable. 


(6.)  An  Accottnt  of  Experiments  on  the  Weight  aid  Relative  Proportions 
of  the  Brain,  CERtBELLUM,  and  Tuber  Annulare  in  Man  and  Animals, 
under  the  various  circumstances  of  Age,  Sex,  Country,  etc. 

(Published  in  Dr.  Monro's  Anatomy  of  the  Brain,  p.  4 — 8. 
Edinburgh,  1831.  —  Ed.) 

The  following,  among  other  conclusions,  are  founded  on  an  induction  drawn 
fiY>m  above  sixty  human  brains,  from  nearly  three  hundred  human  skulls,  of 

1  Epist.  L.  i.  ep.  i.  100.  —  Ed.  2  Manilius,  iv.  929.  —  Ed. 


APPENDIX.  659 

determined  sex,  —  the  capacity  of  which,  by  a  method  I  devised,  was  taken  in 
sand,  and  the  original  weight  of  the  brain  thus  recovered,  —  and  from  more 
than  seven  hundred  brains  of  different  animals. 

1.  In  man,  the  adult  male  Encephalos  is  heavier  than  the  female  :  the  former 
nearly  averaging,  in  the  Scot's  head,  3  lb.  8  oz.  troy,  the  latter,  3  lb.  4  oz. ;  the 
difference,  4  oz.  In  males  of  this  country,  about  one  brain  in  seven  is  found 
above  4  lb.  troy ;  in  females,  hardly  one  in  one  hundred. 

2.  In  man,  the  Encephalos  reaches  its  full  size  about  seven  years  of  age. 
This  was  never  before  proved.  It  is  commonly  believed  that  the  brain  and 
the  bo<ly  attain  their  full  development  together.  The  Wenzels  rashly  general- 
ized from  two  cases  the  conclusion,  that  the  brain  reaches  its  full  size  about 
seven  years  of  age;  as  Soemmering  had,  in  like  manner,  on  a  single  case,  erro- 
neously assumed  that  it  attains  its  last  growth  by  three.  Gall  and  Spurzheim, 
on  the  other  hand,  assert  that  the  increase  of  tli(;  encephalos  is  only  terminated 
about  forty.  The  result  of  my  induction  is"  deduced  from  an  average  of  thirty- 
six  brains  and  skulls  of  children,  compared  with  an  average  of  several  hun- 
dred brains  and  skulls  of  adults.  It  is  perhaps  superfluous  to  observe,  that  it 
is  the  greater  development  of  the  bones,  muscles,  and  hair,  which  renders  the 
adult  head  considerably  larger  than  that  of  the  child  of  seven. 

3.  It  is  extremely  doubtful  whether  the  cranial  contents  usually  diminish  in 
old  age.  The  vulgar  opinion  that  they  do,  rests  on  no  adequate  evidence,  and 
my  induction  would  rather  prove  the  negative. 

4.  The  common  doctrine,  that  the  African  brain,  and  in  particular  that  of 
the  Negro,  is  greatly  smaller  than  the  European,  is  false.  By  a  comparison  of 
the  capacity  of  two  Caff're  skulls,  male  and  female,  and  of  thirteen  negro 
crania  (six  male,  five  female,  and  two  of  doubtful  .sex),  the  encephalos  of  the 
African  was  found  not  inferior  to  the  average  size  of  the  European. 

5.  In  man,  the  Cerebellum,  in  relation  to  the  brain  proper,  comes  to  Its  full 
proportion  about  three  years.  This  anti-phrenological  fact  is  proved  by  a  great 
induction. 

6.  It  is  extremely  doubtful  whether  the  Cerebellum  usually  diminishes  in 
old  age;  prol)aI)ly  only  in  cases  of  atrojiliia  senUia. 

7.  The  female  Cerebellum  is,  in  general,  considerably  larger  in  proportion 
to  the  brain  proper,  than  the  male.  In  the  human  subject  (the  tuber  ex- 
cluded), the  former  is  nearly  as  1  to  7.6;  the  latter  nearly  as  1  to  8.4  ,*•  and 
this  sexual  difference  appears  to  be  more  determinate  in  man  than  in  most 
other  animals.  Almost  the  whole  difference  of  weight  between  the  male  and 
female  encephali  lies  in  the  brain  proper ;  the  cerebella  of  the  two  sexes,  abso- 
lutely, are  nearly  e(|ual,  —  the  preponderance  rather  in  favor  of  the  women. 
This  observation  is  new;  and  the  truth  ot  the  phrenological  hypothesis  implies 
the  reverse.  It  confirms  the  theory  of  the  function  of  the  cerebellum  noticed 
in  the  following  paragraph. 

8.  The  proportion  of  the  Cerebellum  to  the  Brain  jiroper  at  birtii,  varies 
greatly  in  difft'rent  animals.' 

9.  Castration  has  no  effect  in  diminishing  the  i-enbcllum,  cithtT  absolutely 

1  For  the  remainder  of  ib\»  section,  see  abore,  Appendix  II.  (a)  p.  662,  "  I'lijrsiologinte,* 
etc.,  top  653,  "  motion."  — Ed. 


660  APPENDIX. 

or  in  relation  to  the  brain  proper.^     The  opposite  doctrine  is  an  idle  fancy 
though   asserted    by   the    phrenologists   as   their   most   incontrovertible   fact 
Proved  by  a  large  induction. 

10.  The  universal  opinion  is  false,  that  man,  of  all  or  almost  all  animals,  ha? 
the  smallest  cerebellum  in  proportion  to  the  brain  proper.  Many  of  the  com- 
jBonest  quadrupeds  and  birds  have  a  cerebellum,  in  this  relation,  proportionally 
^^maller  than  man. 

11;  What  has  not  been  observed,  the  proportion  of  the  Tuber  Annulare  to 
the  Cerebellum  (and,  a  inajore,  to  the  brain  proper)  is  greatly  less  in  children 
than  in  adults.  In  a  girl  of  one  year  (in  my  table  of  human  brains)  it  is  as 
1  to  16.1  ;  in  another  of  two,  as  1  to  14.8 :  in  a  boy  of  three,  as  1  to  15.5 ;  and 
the  average  of  children  under  seven,  exhibits  the  pores,  in  proportion  to  the 
cerebellum,  much  smaller  than  in  the  average  of  adults,  in  whom  it  is  only  as 
1  to  8,  or  1  to  9. 

12.  In  specific  gravity,  contrary  to  the  current  doctrine,  the  encephalos  and 
its  parts  vary  very  little,  if  at  all,  from  one  age  to  another.  A  child  of  two, 
and  a  woman  of  a  hundred  years,  are,  in  this  respect,  nearly  equal,  and  the 
intermediate  ages  show  hardly  more  than  individual  differences. 

13.  The  specific  gravity  of  the  brain  does  not  vary  in  madness  (if  one  case 
of  chronic  insanity  is  to  be  depended  on),  contrary  to  what  has  been  alleged. 
In  fever  it  often  does,  and  remarkably. 

14.  The  cerebellum  (the  converse  of  the  received  opinion)  has  a  greater 
specific  gravity  than  the  brain  proper ;  and  this  difference  is  considerably  more 
marked  in  birds  than  in  man  and  quadrupeds.  The  opinion  also  of  the 
ancients  is  probably  true,  that  the  cerebellum  is  harder  than  the  brain  proper. 

15.  The  hiiman  brain  does  not,  as  asserted,  possess  a  greater  specific  gravity 
than  that  of  other  animals. 


(c.)    Remarks  on   De.  Morton's   Tables   os   the   Size   of   the   Brain. 

(Communicated  to  the  Edinburgh  New  Philosophical  Journal,  conducted  by  Professor 
Jameson.  See  Vol.  XL VIII.,  p.  3.30  (1850).  For  Dr.  Morton's  Tables,  see 
the  same  Journal,  Vol.  XLVIU.,  p.  262.  — Ed.) 

What  first  strikes  me  in  Dr.  Morton's  Tables,  completely  invalidates  his  con- 
clusions, —  he  has  not  distinguished  male  from  female  crania.  Now,  as  the 
female  encephalos  is,  on  an  average,  some  four  ounces  troy  less  than  the  male, 
it  is  impossible  to  compare  national  skulls  with  national  skulls,  in  respect  of 
their  capacity,  unless  we  compare  male  with  male,  female  with  female  heads,  or, 
at  least,  know  how  many  of  either  sex  go  to  make  up  the  national  complement. 

A  blunder  of  this  kind  is  made  by  Mr.  Sims,  in  his  paper  and  valuable 
•correlative  table  of  the  weight  of  two  hundred  and  fifty-three  brains  (Medico 
■Chirurgical  Tranmctions,  vol.  xix.).  He  there  attacks  the  result  of  my  observa- 
tion (published  by  Dr.  Monro,  Ana'omi/  of  the  Brain,  etc.,  1831),  that  the 
human  encephalos  (brain  proper  and  afte»^rain)  reaches  its  full  size  by  seven 

3  The  effect  is.  in  fact,  to  increase  the  cerebellum.  See  the  experiments  recorded  by  M 
Leuret,  cited  by  Sir  Benjamin  Brodie,  Psychologicai  Inquiries,  note  H.  —  Ed. 


APPENDIX.  661 

years  of  ag''.,  perhaps  somewhat  earlier.  In  refutation  of  this  paradox,  he 
slumps  the  male  and  female  brains  toj^etlier ;  and  then,  because  he  finds  that 
the  average  weight  of  his  adults,  among  whom  the  males  are  greatly  the  more, 
numerous,  is  larger  than  the  average  weight  of  his  impuberals,  among  whom 
the  females  preponderate,  he  jumps  at  once  to  the  conclusion,  that  I  am  wrong, 
and  that  the  en<ephalos  continues  to  grow,  to  diminish,  and  to  grow  again  (I), 
for,  I  forget  how  long,  after  the  period  of  maturity.  Fortunately,  along  with 
his  crotchets,  he  has  given  the  detail  of  his  weighings;  and  his  table,  when 
properly  arranged,  confutes  himself,  and  superlluously  confirms  me.  That  is, 
comparing  the  girls  with  the  women,  and  the  boys  with  the  men,  it  appears, 
from  his  own  induction,  that  the  cranial  contents  do  reach  the  average  amount, 
even  before  the  age  of  seven. 

Tiedemann  (^Das  Him  des  Nef/erit,  etc.,  1837,  p.  4)  notes  the  contradi(;tion 
of  Sims's  result  and  mine  ;  but  he  does  not  solve  it.  The  same  is  done  and  not 
done,  by  Dr.  Rostock,  in  his  Pli7/sii>l()f/>/.  Tiedemann,  however,  remarks,  that 
his  own  observations  coincide  with  mine  (p.  10);  as  is,  indeed,  evident  from 
his  Table  (p.  11)  ''  Of  the  cranial  capacity  from  birth  to  adolescence,"  though, 
unfortunately,  in  that  table,  but  in  that  alone,  he  has  not  discriminated  the  sex. 

Dr.  Morton's  conclusion  as  to  the  comparative  size  of  the  Negro  brain,  is 
contrary  to  Tiedcmann's  larger,  and  to  my  smaller,  induction,  which  concur  in 
proving,  that  the  Negro  encephalos  is  not  less  than  the  European,  and  greatly 
larger  than  the  Hindoo,  the  Ceylonese,  and  sundry  other  Asiatic  brains.  But 
the  vice,  already  noticed,  of  Dr.  Morton's  induction,  renders  it,  however 
extensive,  of  no  cogency  in  the  question. 

Dr.  Morton's  method  of  measuring  the  capacity  of  the  cranium,  is,  certainly, 
no  "invention"  of  his  friend  Mr.  Phillips,  being,  in  either  form,  only  a  clumsy 
and  unsatisfactory  modification  of  mine.  Tiedemann's  millet-seed  afibrds,  like- 
wise, only  an  inaccurate  a{)proximation  to  the  truth  ;  for  seeds,  as  found  by  me, 
vary  in  weight  according  to  the  drought  and  moisture  of  the  atmosphere,  and 
are  otherwise  ill  adapted  to  recover  the  size  of  the  brain  in  the  smaller  ani- 
mals. The  physiologists  who  have  latterly  followed  the  method  of  filling  the 
<  ranium,  to  ascertain  the  amount  of  the  cranial  contents,  have  adopted,  not 
without  perversion,  one-half  of  my  process,  and  altogether  omitted  the  other. 
After  rejecting  mustard  .seed,  which  I  first  thought  of  employing,  and  tor  the 
reason  specified,  I  found  that  pure  silicious  sand  was  the  best  mean  of  accom- 
plishing the  ])urpose,  from  its  suitable  j)onderosity,  incompressibility,  eijuality 
of  weight  in  all  weathers,  and  tenuity.  Tiedemann  (p.  21)  says,  that  he  did 
not  employ  sand,  "  because,  by  its  greater  specific  gravity,  it  might  easily  burst 
the  cranial  liones  at  the  sutures."  He  would,  by  trial,  have  found  that  this 
objection  is  futile.  The  thinnest  skull  of  the  youngest  infant  can  resist  the 
pressure  of  sand,  were  it  many  times  greater  than  it  is ;  even  Morton's  lead 
shot  ])roved  harmless  in  this  respect.  Rut.  while  nothing  could  answer  the  pur- 
pose better  than  sand,  still  this  afforded  only  one,  and  that  an  inadequate. 
mean  towards  an  end.  Another  was  recjuisite.  By  weighing  the  brain  of  a 
young  and  healthy  convict,  who  was  hanged,  and  afterwanls  weighing  the  sand 
which  his  prepared  cranium  contained.  I  determined  the  proportion  of  the  sp**- 
cific  gravity  of  cerebral  substance  (which  in  all  ages  and  animals  is  nearly 
equal)   to  the  specific   gravity   of    the    sand    which    was   cnq)loycd.       I    thu» 


662 


APPENDIX. 


obtained  a  formula  by  which  to  recover  the  origiital  weight  of  the  encephalod 
in  all  the  crania  which  were  filled ;  and  liereby  brought  brains  weighed  and 
skulls  gauged  into  a  universal  relation.  On  the  contrary,  the  comparisons  of 
Tiedemann  and  Morton,  as  they  stand,  are  limited  to  their  own  Tables.  I  have 
once  and  again  tested  the  accuracy  of  this  process,  by  experiment,  in  the  lower 
animals,  and  have  thus  perfect  confidence  in  the  certainty  of  its  result,  be  the 
problem  to  recover  the  weight  of  the  encephalos  from  the  cranium  of  a  spar- 
row, or  from  the  cranium  of  an  elephant. 

I  may  conclude  by  saying,  that  I  have  now  established,  apart  from  the 
proof  by  averages,  that  the  human  encephalos  doea  not  increase  after  the  age  of 
seven,  at  highest.  This  has  been  done,  by  measuring  the  heads  of  the  same 
young  persons  from  infancy  to  adolescence  and  maturity ;  for  the  slight  increase 
in  the  aze  of  the  head,  after  seven  (or  six)  is  exhausted  by  the  development  to 
be  allowed  in  the  bones,  muscles,  integuments  and  hair. 

(The  following  is  an  unpublished  Memorandum  in  reference  to  pre- 
ceding.— Ed.) 

March  23,  1850. 

Found  that  the  specific  weight  of  the  sand  I  had  employed  for  measuring 
the  capacity  of  crania,  was  that  the  sand  filling  32  cubic  inches,  weighed  12,160 
grains. 

Found  at  the  same  time  that  the  millet-seed  occupying  the  same  number  of 
cubic  inches,  weighed  5665  grains. 

Thus  the  proportion  of  millet-seed  to  sand,  in  specific  gravity  is  as  1  :  2.147. 

One  cubic  inch  thus  contains  380  grains  sand  ;  and  177  grains  millet-seed. 


(rf.)  Original  Researches  on  the  Frontal,  Sinuses,  with  Observations 
ON  THEiK  Bearings  on  the  Dogmas  of  Phrenology. 

(From   The  Medical  Times,  May,  1845,  Vol.  XII.,  p.  159;  June  7,  1845,  Vol.  XII., 
p.  177;  August,  1845,  Vol.  XII.,  p.  371.— Ed.) 

Before  proceeding  to  state  in  detail  the  various  facts  and  fictions  relative  to 
the  Frontal  Sinus,'  it  will  be  proper  to  premise  some  necessary  information 
touching  the  nature  and  relations  of  the  sinuses  themselves. 

The  cruces  phrenologorum  are  two  cavities,  separated  from  each  other  by  a 
perpendicular  osseous  partition,  and  formed  between  the  tables  of  the  frontal 
bone,  in  consequence  of  a  divergence  of  these  tables  from  their  parallelism,  as 
they  descend  to  join  the  bones  of  the  nose,  and  to  build  the  orbits  of  the  eye. 


1  It  is  proper  to  observe,  that  tlie  notes,  of 
which  the  following  is  an  abstract,  were  writ- 
ten above  sixteen  years  ago,  and  have  not 
since  been  added  to,  or  even  looked  at.  They 
were  intended  for  part  of  a  treatise  to  be 
entiled.  •'  The  Firtionx  of  Fhrftinlngy  and  the 
Facts  of  Nature.'"  My  researches,  however, 
paxticalarly  into  the  relatiunB  of  the  cere- 
bellum, and  the  general  growth  of  the  brain, 
convinced  me  that  the  phrenological  doctrin* 
vu  wholly  unworthy  of  a  serious  refutation; 


and  should  the  detail  of  my  observations  on 
these  points  be  ever  published,  it  will  not  be 
done  in  a  polemical  form.  My  notes  on  the 
frontal  sinuses  having,  however,  been  cast  in 
relation  to  the  phrenological  hypothesis,  I 
have  not  thought  it  necessary  to  take  the 
labor  of  altering  them,  —  espeeially  m  the 
phrenological  hction  is,  in  truth,  a  comple- 
ment of  all  possible  errors  on  the  subject  of 
these  cavities. 


A  p  r  E  N  D  I  X  .  ioG'd 

They  are  not,  however,  mere  inorganic  vacuities,  arising  from  the  recession  of 
the  bonj'  plates ;  they  constitute  a  part  of  the  olfactory  apparatus ;  they  arc 
lined  with  a  membrane,  a  continuation  of  the  pituitary,  and  this,  copiously  sup- 
plied with  blood,  secretes  a  lubricating  mucus  which  is  discharged  by  an  aper- 
ture into  the  nose. 

Various  theories  have  been  proposed  to  explain  the  mode  of  their  formation  ; 
but  it  is  only  the  fact  of  their  existence,  fre(}uency,  and  degree,  with  wliich  we 
are  at  present  interested.  In  the  foetus,  manifested  only  in  rudiment,  they  are 
gradually,  but  in  ditlerent  subjects  variously  developed,  until  the  age  of  pu- 
berty; they  appear  to  obtain  their  ultimate  expansion  towards  the  age  of 
twenty-five.  They  are  exclusively  occasioned  by  the  elevation  of  the  external 
table,  which  determines,  in  fact,  the  rise  of  the  nose  at  the  period  of  adoles- 
cence, by  affording  to  the  nasal  bones  their  formation  and  support. 

Sundry  hypotheses  have  likewise  been  advanced  to  explaiti  their  uses,  but  it 
will  be  enough  for  us,  from  the  universality  of  their  ajipearance,  to  refutt?  the 
singular  fancy  of  the  phrenologists,  that  these  cavities  are  abnormal  varieties, 
the  [)roduct  of  old  age  or  disease. 

But  though  the  sinuses  are  rarely  if  ever  absent,  their  size  in  every  dimen- 
sion varies  to  infinity.  Laying  aside  all  rarer  enormities,  and  speaking,  of 
course,  only  of  subjects  healthy  and  in  the  prime  of  life,  in  superficial  extent 
the  sinus  sometimes  reaches  hardly  above  the  root  of  the  nose,  sometimes  it 
covers  nearly  the  whole  forehead,  penetrates  to  the  bottom  of  the  orbit,  and, 
turning  the  external  angle  of  the  eyebrow,  is  terminated  only  at  the  junction 
of  the  frontal  and  parietal  bones.  Now,  a  sinus  is  small,  or  almost  null  upon 
one  side,  —  on  the  other  it  is,  perhaps,  unusually  large  ;  while  in  no  dimensif)n 
are  the  two  cavities,  in  general  strictly  correspondent,  even  although  the  outer 
forehead  presents  the  most  symmetrical  appearance.  In  depth  (or  transverse 
distance  between  the  tables)  the  sinus  is  equally  inconstant,  varying  indeter- 
minably  in  different  heads,  from  a  litie  or  less  to  half  an  inch  and  more.  Now, 
a  sinus  gradually  disappears  by  a  gradual  convergence  of  its  walls ;  now  these 
walls,  after  running  nearly  parallel,  suddenly  unite.  Now,  the  depth  of  the 
cavity  decreases  from  centre  to  cin-umference ;  now  the  plates  approximate  in 
the  middle,  and  recede  farther  from  each  other  immediately  before  they  ulti- 
niately  unite.  In  one  cranium,  a  sinus,  collected  within  itself,  is  fairly  rounded 
off;  in  another,  it  runs  into  meandering  bays,  or  is  subdivided  into  separate 
chambers,  these  varying  without  end  in  their  relative  capacity  and  extent.  In 
depth,  as  well  as  in  extent,  the  capacity  of  the  sinus  is  thus  wholly  indetermin- 
able ;  and  no  one  can  prediit,  from  external  observation,  whether  the  cavity 
shall  be  a  lodging  scanty  for  a  fly  or  roomy  for  a  mouse. 

It  is  an  error  of  the  grossest,  that  the  extent  of  the  sinus  is  indicated  by  a 
ridge,  or  crest,  or  blister,  in  the  external  bony  plate.  Such  a  protuberance  has 
no  certain  or  even  probable  relation  to  the  extent,  depth,  or  even  exi.stence,  of 
any  vacuity  beneath.  Over  the  largest  cavities  there  is  freipiently  no  bony 
elevation  ;  and  women,  in  whose  crania  these  protuberances  are  in  general  al>- 
sent  or  very  small,  exhibit  the  sinuses  as  universally  existent,  and  not,  perhaps, 
proportionably  less  extensive  than  those  of  men.  The  external  ridge,  however 
prominent,  is  often  merely  a  sudden  outwanl  thickening  of  the  bony  wall, 
which  sometimes  has  a  small,  sometimes  no  cavity  at  all,  beneath.      Ai)art  alM 


664 


APPENDIX. 


from  the  vacuitv,  though  over  the  region  of  the  sinus,  no  quarter  of  the  cranium 
j<resents  greater  differences  in  thickness,  wfiether  in  different  suojects  or  in  the 
same  head,  than  the  plates  and  diploe  of  the  frontal  bone;  and  I  have  found 
that  the  bony  walls  themselves  presented  an  impediment  which  varied  inappre- 
ciably from  three  to  thirteen  lines:  —  "■fronii  itulki  jii/es." 

But  the  ^^fronti  nulla  Jides"  in  a  phrenological  relation,  is  further  illustrated 
by  the  accidents  of  its  sinus,  which  all  concur  in  manifesting  the  universality 
and  possibly  capacious  size  of  that  cavity.  That  cavity  is  sometimes  occupied 
by  stony  concretions,  and  is  the  seat  of  ulcers,  cancer,  polypus,  and  sarcomeu 
When  acutely  inflamed  the  sensibility  of  its  membrane  becomes  painfully  in- 
tense ;  and  every  one  has  experienced  its  irritation  when  simply  affected  with 
catarrh.  The  mucosity  of  this  membrane,  the  great  extent  and  security  of  the 
caverns,  joined  with  their  patent  openings  into  the  nose,  render  the  sinuses  a 
convenient  harbor  for  the  nidulation,  hatching,  and  nourishment  of  many  para- 
sitic animals ;  indeed,  the  motley  multitude  of  its  guests  might  almost  tempt  us 
to  regard  it  as 

"  The  cistern  for  all  creeping  things 


To  knot  and  gender  in."  1 

"  Chacun  a  son  Vercoquin  dans  la  teste"  — "  Quemque  suus  vellicat  Ver- 
mis"—  are  adages  which,  from  the  vulgarity  of  the  literal  occurrence,  would 
seem  more  than  metaphorically  true.-^  With  a  frequency  sometimes  epidemic,^ 
flies  and  insects  here  ascend  to  spawn  their  eggs,  and  maggots  (other  than  phre- 
nological) are  bred  and  fostered  in  these  genial  labyrinths.  Worms,  in  every 
loathsome  diversity  of  slime  and  hair,  —  reptiles  armed  with  fangs,  —  crawlers 
of  a  hundred  feet,  —  ejected  by  the  score,  and  varying  from  an  inch  to  half  an 
ell  in  length,  cause  by  their  suction,  burrowing,  and  erosion,  excruciating 
headache,  convulsions,  delirium,  and  phrensy.  With  many  a  nameless  or  non- 
descript visitor,  the  leech,  the  lumbricus,  the  ascaris,  the  asearius  lumbricoides, 
the  fasciola,  the  eruca,  the  oniscus,  the  gordius,  the  forficula,  the  scolopendra, 
the  scorpiodes,  and  even  the  scorpion,*  are  by  a  hundred  observers  recorded  as 
finding  in  these  "  antres  vast" — these  "  spelunci  ferarum,"  —  a  birthplace  or 
an  asylum.*     And  the  fact,  sufficiently  striking  in  itself,  is  not  without  signifi- 


1  "  Or  keep  it  as  a  cistern  for  foul  toads 

To  knot  and  gender  in." 

Othello,  act.  iv.  sc.  8. —  Ed. 

2  In  the  frontal  sinuses  worms  and  insects 
are  not  vnfrequently  found.  Voigtel,  Handh.  d. 
Pathol.  Annt.  1804,  vol.  i.  p.  2y2.  1  quote  him, 
instar  omnium,  as  one  of  the  best  and  one  of 
the  most  recent  authorities. 

3  Forestus,  Obs.  Med.,  lib.  xxi.  schol.,  28. 

4  Hollerius,  De  Morb.  Int.  lib.  i.  c.  1;  Gesner, 
Hist.  Anat.  lib.  v.;  Boneti,  Sepul.  Obs.,  121; 
Ferretti.     I  here  refer  to  the  scorpion  alone. 

i  Long  before  the  sinus  was  anatomically 
described  by  Carpi,  this  pathological  fact  had 
been  well  known  to  physicians  The  pre- 
icription  of  the  Delphic  oracle  to  Demos- 
thenes of  Athens  for  bis  epilepsy  shows  that 


the  Greeks  were  aware  of  the  existence  of 
worms  in  the  frontal  sinuses  of  the  goat. 
(Ale.x.  Trallian,  lib.  i.  c.  15.)  Among  the- 
Arabians,  Avicenna  (Fencstella  lib.  iii  tr.  2. 
c.  3)  tells  us  it  was  well  known  to  the  Indian 
physicians,  that  worms  were  generated  in  the 
forehead  immediately  above  the  root  of  the 
nose,  were  fre<iuently  the  cause  of  headaches; 
and  Rhazes  (Continet,  lib  i.  c.  10)  observes 
that  this  was  the  opinion  of  Schare  and 
others.  Among  the  moderns,  my  medical 
ignorance  suggests  more  authorities  than  I 
can  almost  summon  patience  .simply  to  name. 
The  curious  reader  may  consult,  among 
others.  Valescus  de  Taranta,  Js'icolaus  de 
Nicolis.  Vega,  Marcellus  Donatus,  Trinca- 
velli.  Benedetti,  Hollerius,  Duretus,  Fabricim 


APPENDIX.  6ij5 

canoe  in  relation  to  the  present  inquiry,  that  these  intruders  principally  infest 
the  sinuses  of  women,  and  more  especially  before  the  period  of  full  puberty. 

Such  is  the  great  and  inappreciable  variation  of  the  frontal  sinus  and  its 
walls,  that  we  may  well  laugh  at  every  attempt  to  estimate,  in  that  quarter,  the 
development  of  any  part  of  the  subjacent  hemispheres,  were  that  part  larger 
than  the  largest  even  of  the  pretended  phrenological  organs.  But  this  is  noth- 
ing. Behind  these  spacious  caverns,  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  extent,  fre- 
quency, and  even  e.xistence  of  this  impediment,  the  phrenologists  have  placed, 
not  one  large,  but  seventeen  of  their  very  smallest  organs  ;  and  have  thus  ena- 
bled an  always  insurmountable  obstacle  to  operate  in  disproof  of  their  system 
in  its  highest  intensi'^y. 

By  concentrating  all  their  organs  of  the  smallest  size  witliin  the  limits  of  the 
sinus,  they  have,  in  the  first  place,  carried  all  those  organs  whose  range  of 
development  was  least,  behind  the  obstacle  whose  range  of  development  was 
greatest.  Where  the  cranium  is  thinner  and  comparatively  more  equal  in 
thickness,  they  have  placed  all  the  organs  (those  of  the  propensities  and  senti- 
ments) which  present  the  broadest  surface,  and,  as  they  themselves  assure  us, 
varying  in  their  development  from  the  centre  to  circumference  by  an  inch  and 
upwards ;  while  all  the  oi^ans  (those  of  the  intellect)  which  have  the  nar- 
rowest expansion,  and  whose  varying  range  of  development  from  the  c'entre  is 
stated  to  be  only  a  cpiarter  of  an  inch  (less  even  than  the  fourth  of  the  varia- 
tion of  the  others),'  these  have  been  accumulated  behind  an  impediment  whose 
onlinary  differences  are  far  more  than  sufficient  to  explain  every  gTcidation  of 
the  pretended  development  of  the  pretended  organs  from  their  smallest  to  their 
largest  size. 

In  the  second  place,  they  have  thus  at  once  thrown  one  half  of  their  whole 
organology  beyond  the  verge  of  possible  discovery  and  possible  proof. 

In  fhe  third  place,  by  thus  evincing  that  their  observations  on  that  one  half 
had  been  only  illusive  fancies,  they  have  afforded  a  criterion  of  the  credit  to  be 
fairly  accorded  to  their  observations  in  relation  to  the  other;  they  have  shown 
in  this,  as  in  other  parts  of  the-r  doctrine,  that  manifestation  and  development 


Hildanus,   Zaciitu     Liioitanus,    Hercules    de  and  of  journals — Epiiem.  Misr.;  Acta  ei  Sova 

Saxonia,  rptrus  I'aiiliis  Magnus,  Anpflliniis,  Ann    Cursos    .Ynf.  ,■   Commerc.   Liter.,   Nov.  2, 

Alsarius,  Conielius   Ciemnia,    Gesncr,    Bene-  Breslautr  Sammlimg :    Diincan\^   Mai.  Joiirn.: 

veniu.x,   Ferneliu.s,   Kiolanus,    Forestus,   Bar-  Edinb.  Med.  Essatjs ;  London  CktonieU ;  Pttila- 

tholinus,  Ft'in-tti,  Kollinck,  OlatiR  Wormius  dtlphia   Traiutactiom :  BlumenbacA's  Med.  Bib!., 

(who  liiinself  ejected  a  worm  from  the  nose  etc..  etc. 

—  was   it    a  family  affection?)   Sinctius  (who  I  may  here  mention,  that  the  nidnlation  of 

also   relates    his  own    ca.-^e),   Tulpius,    Hear-  the  lestrus  ovinu.s  (which  occa.-ionally  infects 

niuK,  Roussaeus,  Monardis,  Schenk,  Scnertus,  the  human  sinus)  forms  a  fre<iuent  epidemie 

Montuus,  Borelli,  Bonetiis,   Hertodins.  Kerk-  umiinf;  .vheep  and  poats.    The  horse,  the  d op 

ringius,     .loiibert,    Volkamnier,    Wohlfarth,  (aw\  prohahly  most  other  aninnil^)  art-  simi- 

Xannoni,  Stalpert,  Vander  VViel,  Morgagni,  |j,rly  afllicted. 

Clericua,    De     Blegny,    Snlzmann.    Monoid,  1  (  ombe's  Sj/Af/'m.  et(J..  p  31      "  The  iliffer- 

llill.  Kilgonr,  Littrd,  Maloet,  Sandifort,  Ucn-  e„ce  in  development  between  a  larfte  and  a 

kel.    Harder.   Stocket,     Slabber.   Nil    Kosen,  ^mall  organ  of  thr  proiwntiilies  and  some  o( 

Razoux,     Scliaarschmidt,     l^uelniat?:.    Wolf.  f|,p  sentiments,  amounts  to  an  inch  and  up- 

Blumenbach,    l'louc(|iiet.   Baiir,    Itiedlin.  /a-  wards:  and   lo  a  .|uarter  of  an   inch    in    th« 

charides,  Lange.  BoeMclier.  Welgc.  Wrisberg,  ..rc-ins  of  intellect,  which  are  natumlly  small 

Troia,  Voiglel,  Uudolphi,  Bremser,  etc  .  etc. :  ^,f  ,),„„  ,i„.  „thers." 

84 


666  APPENDIX. 

are  quantities  which,  be  they  what  thov  may,  can  on  their  doctrine  always  be 
brought  to  an  equation. 

Nay,  in  tlie  fourth  place,  as  if  determined  to  transcend  themselves  —  to  find 
''  a  lower  deep  beneath  the  lowest  deep,"  they  have  even  placed  the  least  of 
their  least  organs  at  the  very  point  where  this,  the  greatest  obstacle,  was  in  its 
highest  potency,  by  placing  tlie  organs  of  configuration,  size,  weight,  and  resist- 
ance, etc.,  towards  the  internal  angle  of  the  eyebrow,  the  situation  where  the 
sinus  is  almost  uniformly  deepcst.i 

Nor,  in  the  fiftii  place,  were  they  less  unfortunate  in  the  location  of  the  rest 
of  their  minutest  organs.  These  they  arranged  in  a  series  along  the  upper 
edge  of  the  orbit,  where,  independently  even  of  the  sinus,  the  bone  varies  more 
in  thickness,  from  one  individual  and  from  one  nation  to  another,  than  in  any 
other  part  of  the  skull :  and  where  these  organs,  hardly  larger,  are  packed 
together  more  closely  than  peas  in  a  pod.  These  pretended  organs,  if  they 
even  severally  protruded  from  the  brain,  as  they  never  do  —  if  no  sinus  inter- 
vened—  and  if,  instead  of  lying  under  the  thickest,  they  were  situate  under 
the  thinnest  bone  of  the  cranium ;  these  petty  organs  could  not,  even  in  these 
circumstances,  reveal  their  development  by  determining  any  elevation,  far  less 
any  sudden  elevation,  of  the  incumbent  bone.  That  bone  they  could  only 
attenuate  at  the  point  of  contact,  by  causing  an  indentation  on  its  inner  sur- 
face. This  is  shown  by  what  are  called  the  glands  of  Pacchioni,  though  erro- 
neously. These  bodies,  which  are  often  found  as  large  as,  or  larger  than,  the 
organs  in  question,  and  which  arise  on  the  coronal  surface  of  the  encephalos, 
attenuate  to  the  thinnest,  but  never  elevate  in  the  slightest,  the  external  bony 
plate,  though  there  the  action  of  the  muscles  presents  a  smaller  impediment  to 
a  partial  elevation  than  in  the  superciliary  region.  This  I  have  frequently 
taken  note  of. 

As  it  is,  these  minute  organs  are  expected  to  betray  their  distinct  and  rela- 
tive developments  through  the  obstacle  of  two  thick  bony  walls,  and  a  large 
intervening  chamber ;  the  varying  difference  of  the  im|>ediment  being  often 
considerably  greater  than  the  whole  diameter  even  of  the  organs  themselves. 
The  fact,  however,  is,  that  those  organs  are  commonly,  if  not  always,  developed 
only  in  the  bone,  and  may  be  cut  out  of  the  cranium,  even  in  an  impuberal 
skull  destitute  of  the  sinus,  without  trenching  on  the  confines  of  the  brain 
itself;  At  the  external  angle  of  the  eyebrow  at  the  organ  of  slumber,  the 
bone,  exclusive  of  any  sinus,  is  sometimes  found  to  exceed  an  inch  in  thick- 
ness- 
How  then  have  the  phrenologists  attempted  to  obviate  the  objection  of  the 
sinus  ? 

The  first  organs  which  Gall  excogitated,  he  placed  in  the  region  of  the  sinus ; 
and  it  is  manifest  he  was  then  in  happy  unacquaintance  with  everything  con- 
nected with  that  obnoxious  cavity.  In  ignorance,  however.  Gall  was  totally 
eclipsed  by  Spurzheim ;  who.  while  he  seems  even  for  a  time  unaware  of  its 


1  Every  one  wlio  has  ever  examined   the  laminae   a  ae  invicem  marime  distant/'' — (Df 

sinus  knows  that  wliat  Schulze  has  observed  Cav.   Cranii,  Acta  Phys.  Med.  Acad.  Cas.,  i.  p. 

is  true  —  "in   illo  angiilo  qui  ad   nares  est.  508.) 
cavitatis  fandus  est,  et  hoc  in  loco  fere  ossium 


APPENDIX.  667 

existence  as  a  normal  octurrence,  has  multiplied  the  number  and  diminished 
the  size  of  the  organs  which  the  sinus  regularly  covers.  By  both  the  founders, 
their  organology  was  published  before  they  had  discovered  tiie  formidable 
nature  of  the  impediment,  and  then  it  was  too  late  to  retract.  They  have 
attempted,  indeed,  to  elude  the  objection ;  but  the  manner  in  which  they  have 
rioundered  on  from  blunder  to  blunder,  —  blunders  not  more;  inconsistent  with 
each  other,  than  contrary  to  the  fact,  —  shows  that  they  have  never  dared  Ut 
open  their  eyes  on  the  reality,  or  never  dan;d  to  acknowledge  their  conviction 
of  its  efTect.  The  series  of  fictions  in  relation  to  the  frontal  sinus,  is,  out  of 
Phrenology,  in  truth,  imparalleled  in  the  history  of  science.  These  fictions  are 
substituted  for  facts  the  simplest  and  most  palpable  in  natun* ;  they  arc  substi- 
tuted for  facts  contradicted  by  none,  and  proclaimed  by  every  anatomical 
authority ;  and  they  are  substituted  for  facts  which,  as  determining  the  compe- 
tency of  phrenological  proof,  ought  not  to  have  beer*  rejected  without  a  critical 
refutation  by  the  founders  of  that  theory  themselves.  But  while  it  seemed 
possible  for  the  {jhrenologi-sts  to  find  only  truth,  they  have  yet  continued  to  find 
nothing  but  error  —  error  always  at  the  greatest  possible  distance  from  the 
truth.  But  if  they  were  thus  so  curiously  wrong  in  matters  so  easy,  notorious, 
and  fumlamental,  how  far  may  we  not  presume  them  to  have  gone  astray  where 
they  were  not,  as  it  were,  preserved  from  wandering? 

The  fictions  by  which  phrenologists  would  obviate  the  objection  of  the  fron- 
tal sinus,  may,  with  the  opposing  facts,  be  divided  into  four  classes;  — as  they 
relate  1°,  to  its  natu7-e  &nd  effect:  2°,  to  its  indication;  3°,  to  its /re^wenc// .• 
and  4°,  to  its  size. 


I.  —  Nature  and  Effect  of  the  Sinus. 

Fad.  —  The  frontal  sinus  only  exists  in  consequence  of  the  recession  of  the 
two  cranial  tables  from  their  ])arallelism  ;  and  as  this  recession  is  inappreciable, 
<'onsefiuently,  no  indication  is  afforded  by  the  external  plate  of  the  eminence 
or  depression  of  the  brain,  in  contact  with  the  internal. 

To  this  fact.  Gall  opposed  the  following 

Fiction. — The  I'rontal  sinus  interposes  no  impediment  to  the  observation  of 
cerebral  development;  for  as  the  walls  of  this  cavity  arc  exactly  parallel,  the 
effect  of  the  brain  upon  the  inner  table  must  consequently  be  exprejised  by  the 
outer. 

Anthorilicx  for  the  Fiction.  —  This  fiction  was  orininallv  advanced  bv  CJall,  in 
his  Leetui-es,  and,  though  never  formally  retraete<l,  has  not  been  repeated  by 
him  or  Spurzheim  in  tlu'ir  works  subse(|uently  published.  I  therefore  adduce 
it.  not  as  an  opinion  now  itctually  held  by  the  phrenologists,  but  as  a  part  nnl\- 
of  that  cycle  ot  vacillation  and  absurdity  which,  in  their  attempts  to  eltiiK'  the 
otijection  of  the  sinus,  they  have  fruitlessly  ai-eomplished.  That  it  was  so  orig- 
inally advanced,  is  shown  bv  (he  tbllowing  authorities  ;  which,  aa  beyond  the 
reach  of  readers  in  general.  I  shall  not  merely  refer  to.  but  translate. 

The  first  is  Froriep  ;  and  I  (]note  from  the  third  edition  of  his  Pur.it'  llnni). 
*tc.,  which  appeared  in  IS02.  This  author  was  a  pupil  and  friend  of  Gall,  on 
whose  doctrine  he  delivered  lectures,  and  his  work  is  referred  to  b^'  Gall,  in 


t)68 


APPENDIX. 


his  Apologetic  Memorial  to  the  Austrian  Government,  in  that  very  year,  as  con- 
taining an  authentic  exposition  of  his  opinions.  —  "  Although  at  this  place  the 
frontal  sinuses  are  found,  and  here  constitute  the  vaulting  of  the  forehead, 
nevertheless,  (Jail  maintains  that  the  brain,  in  consequence  of  the  walls  of  the 
sinuses  lying  quite  parallel  (?  i),  is  able  to  affect  likewise,  the  outer  plate,  and 
to  determine  its  protuberance."  —  P.  61.  The  doubt  and  wonder  are  by  the 
disciple  himself 

The  second  authorit}'  is  Bartels,  whose  Anlhro/wlof/lsche  Bemerkungin  ap- 
peared m  1806.  '*  In  regard  to  the  important  objection  drawn  from  the  I'rontal 
sinuses.  Gall's  oral  reply  is  very  conformable  to  nature.  •  Here,  notwithstand- 
ing the  intervening  cavity  in  the  bones,  there  is  found  a  parallelism  between 
the  external  and  internal  plates  of  the  cranium."'  —  P.  12.j. 

Proof  of  the  Fact.  —  In  refutation  of  a  fiction  so  ridiculous,  it  is  unnecessary 
to  say  a  single  word ;  even  the  phrenologists  now  define  the  sinus  by  "  a  diver- 
gence from  parallelism  between  the  two  tables  of  the  bone."  ^ 

It  was  only  in  abandoning  this  one  fiction,  and  from  the  conviction  that  the 
sinus,  when  it  existed,  did  present  an  insuperable  obstacle  to  observation,  that 
the  phrenologists  were  obliged  to  resort  to  a  plurality  of  fictions  of  far  inferior 
efficacy ;  for  what  mattered  it  to  them,  whether  these  cavities  were  indiscover- 
able,  frequent,  and  capacious,  if,  in  effect,  they  interposed  no  obstacle  to  an 
observation  of  the  brain  V 


II.  —  Indication  of  the  Sinus. 

Fact.  —  There  is  no  correlation  between  the  extent  and  existence  of  a  sinus,^ 
and  the  existence  and  extent  of  any  elevation,  whether  superciliary  or  glabel- 
lar; either  may  be  present  without  the  other,  and  when  both  are  coexistent 
they  hold  no  reciprocal  proportion  in  dimension  or  figure.  Neither  is  there 
any  form  whatever  of  cranial  develoi)ment  which  guarantees  either  the  absence 
or  the  presence  of  a  subjacent  cavity. 

To  this  fact  the  phrenologists  are  unanimous  in  opposing  the  following 

Fiction.  —  Tlie  sinus,  when  present,  betrays  its  existence  and  extent  by  an 
irregular  elevation  of  a  peculiar  character,  under  the  appearance  of  a  bony 
ridge,  or'crest,  or  blister,  and  is  distinguished  from  the  regular  forms  under 
which  the  phrenological  organs  are  developed. 

Au'fiorities  for  the  Fiction.  —  It  is  sufficient  to  adduce  Gall-  and  Spurzheim,' 
followed  by  Combe,^  and  the  phrenologists  in  general.  In  support  of  their 
position,  they  adduce  no  testimony  by  anatomists,  —  no  evidence  from  nature. 

Proof  of  the  Fact.  —  All  anatomical  authority,  as  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel,  is 
opposed  to  the  fiction,  for  every  anatomist  concurs  in  holding  that  the  sinuses 
are  rarely,  if  ever,  absent ;  whereas  the  crests  or  blisters  which  the  phrenolo- 
gists regard  as  an  index  of  these  cavities,  are  comparatively  of  rare  occurrence. 
It  must  be  admitted,  however,  that  some  anatomists  have  rashly  connected  the 
extent  of  the  internal  sinus  with  the  extent  of  the  external  elevation.     The 


1  Comhe,  System,  p  .32. 

2  Anctt  et  Phi/s.,  t.  IV.  p.  43,  et  »eq.;  and,  in 
the  same  terms,  Sar  Us  Fonct. 


■"  Pliys.   Sysi.,  p.  236;   Eratri.  of  Object   p.  "«!,- 
Phren.,  p.  115. 
4  Sijst  ,pp.  21,  35,  308.  ■■    ' 


APPENDIX.  669 

statement  of  the  fad  Is  the  result  of  my  own  observation  of  above  three  hiUK 
(Ired  crania;  and  any  person  who  would  in  like  manner  interrogate  nature, 
will  find  that  the  largest  sinuses  are  frequently  in  those  foreheads  whieh  present 
no  supereiliary  or  glabellar  elevations.  I  may  notice,  that  of  the  fifty  skulls 
whose  phrenological  development  was  marked  under  the  direction  of  S[)urz- 
heim,  and  of  which  a  table  is  appended,  the  only  one  head  where  the  frontal 
sinuses  are  noted,  from  the  ridge,  as  present,  is  the  male  cranium  No.  19;  and 
that  cranium,  it  will  be  seen,  has  sinuses  considerably  beneath  even  the  average 
extent 

III.  —  Frequency  of  the  Sinus. 

Fact.  —  The  sinuses  are  rarely,  if  ever,  wanting  in  any  healthy  adult  head  of 
either  sex. 

To  this  fact,  the  phrenologists  oppose  the  three  following  inconsistent  fic- 
tions : 

Fiction  1.  —  The  sinuses  are  only  to  be  found  in  some  male  heads,  being  fre- 
quently absent  in  men  until  a  pretty  advanced  age. 

Fiction  II.  —  In  women  the  sinuses  are  rarelv  found. 

Fiction  III.  —  The  presence  of  the  sinus  is  abnormal  ;  young  and  adult  per- 
sons have  no  cavities  between  the  tables  of  the  frontal  bone  —  the  real  frontal 
sinuses  occurring  only  in  old  persons,  or  after  chronic  insanity. 

Authorities  for  Fiction  I.  —  This  fiction  is  held  in  terms  by  Gall.'  The  other 
phrenologists,  as  we  shall  see,  are  much  further  in  the  wrong.  But  even  for 
this  fiction  they  have  adduced  no  testimony  of  other  observers,  and  detailed  no 
observations  of  thwir  own. 

Proof  of  the  Fact  in  opposition  to  thi'i  Fiction.  —  All  anatomists  —  there  is  not 
a  single  exception  — concur  in  maintaining  a  doctrine  diametrically  opposed  to 
the  figment  of  the  phrenologists,  that  the  sinuses  are,  even  in  men,  freijuently 
or  generally  absent.  Some,  however,  assert  that  the  sinus  in  a  state  of  health 
is  never  wanting;  while  others  insist  that,  though  verj/  rarely,  cases  do  occur  in 
which  it  is  actually  deficient. 

Of  the  latter  opinion,  Fallopius"  holds  that  they  are  present  "in  all  atlults," 
except  occasionally  in  the  case  of  simous  foreheads,  an  exception  which  Riola- 
nus'  and  others  have  shown  to  be  false.  Schulze.*  WInslow,'  Buddeus,*  "  that 
they  are  sometimes  absolutely  wanting  in  cases  where  the  cranium  is  sponipj  ami 
honeycombed."  Palfyn,"  "  that  tiiey  are  sometimes,  though  rarely,  absent,"  AVit- 
tich,^  "that  they  are  almost  ahnn/s  present,  though  it  may  be  admitted  that  in 
some  very  rare  cases  they  are  wanting;"  and  vStalpart  Van  der  Weill*  relates, 
that  "  he  had  seen  in  Nuck's  Museum,  preserved  as  a  special  rarity,  a  cranium 
without  a  frontal  sinus."  Of  more  recent  authorities,  nip|iolite  Clocjuet'"  ob- 
serves, "  that  they  are  seldom  wanting ;  "  and  the  present  Dr.  Monro"  found,  in 

1  Ae  quoted  above.  6  06*.  Anat.  Srt.,  obs.  1. 

2  Opera.  '  0.u.,p.  105. 

3  Comm.  tU  Oas   p.  468.  »  De  Ol/actu,  p.  17. 

*  De  Sin    Oxs    Cap.  Acta  Phya.   Md.    Lrop.  !>  Ob$.  Rar.  Cfnt.  Post,  pars  prior,  ob«.  4. 

Cats.,  vol    i.  obs.  28S  1"  -■«"«(.  Dfsrr  .  stt|.  VA,  vA.  1824. 

5  Expos.  Anat.  tr.  des  Oss.  Sees.,  sec.  3t).  1'  Elon.  of  Anat.  i.  p.  134. 


670 


APPENDIX. 


forty-five  skulls,  that  while  three  only  were  without  the  sinus,  in  two  of  them 
(as  observed  by  Schulze,  Winslow  and  Buddeus)  the  cavity  had  merelv  been 
filled  up  by  tlic  deposition  of  a  sponiry  bone. 

Of  tho  former  opinion,  which  holds  that  the  sinus  is  always  present,  I  need 
only  quote,  instar  otnnium,  the  authority  of  Blumenbach,^  whose  illustrious 
reputation  is  in  a  peculiar  manner  associated  with  the  anatomy  of  the  human 
cranium,  and  who  even  celebrated  his  professional  inauguration  by  a  disserta- 
tion, in  some  respects  the  most  elaborate  we  possess,  on  the  Frontal  Sinuses 
themselves.  This  anatomist  cannot  be  persuaded,  even  on  the  observation  of 
Highinorc,  Albinus,  Haller,  and  tfie  first  Monro,  that  normal  cases  ever  occur 
of  so  improbable  a  defect;  "for,"  he  says,  "  independently  of  the  diseases  after- 
wards to  be  considered,  I  can  with  difficulty  admit,  that  healthy  individuals  are 
ever  wholly  destitute  of  the  frontal  sinus  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  am  convinced  that 
these  distinguished  men  have  not  applied  the  greatest  diligence  and  research." 
In  this  opinion,  as  observed  by  the  present  Dr.  Monro,^  Blumenbach  is  sup- 
ported by  the  concurrence  of  Berlin,  Portal,  Sommering,  Caldani,  etc.  Nor 
does  the  fiction  obtain  any  countenance  i'rom  the  authors  whom  Blumenbach 
opposes.  I  have  consulted  them,  and  find  that  they  are  all  of  that  class  of 
anatomists  who  regard  the  absence  of  the  sinus,  though  a  possible,  as  a  rare 
and  memorable  phenomenon.  Highmore^  founds  his  assertion  on  the  single 
case  of  a  female.  Albinus,*  on  his  own  observation,  and  on  that  of  other 
anatomists,  declares  that  "  the  sinuses  are  very  rarely  absent."  The  first 
Monro,^  speaking  of  the  infinite  variety  in  size  and  figure,  notices  as  a  remark- 
able occurrence  that  he  had  "  even  seen  cases  in  which  they  were  absolutely 
wanting."  And  Haller"  is  only  able  to  establish  the  exception  on  the  case  of  a 
solitary  cranium. 

My  own  experience  is  soon  stated.  Having  examined  above  three  hundred 
crania  for  the  purpose  of  determining  this  point,  I  have  been  unable  to  find  a 
smgle  skull  wholly  destitute  of  a  sinus.  In  crania,  which  were  said  to  be 
examples  of  their  absence,  I  found  that  the  sinus  still  existed.  In  some, 
indeed,  I  found  it  only  on  one  side,  and  in  many  not  ascending  to  the  point  of 
the  glabellar  region,  through  which  crania  are  generally  cut  round.  The  only 
instances  of  its  total  deficiency  are,  I  believe,  those  abnormal  cases  in  which, 
as  observed  by  anatomists,  the  original  cavity  has  been  subsequently  occupied 
by  a  pumicose  deposit.  Of  this  deposit  the  only  examples  I  met  with  occurred 
\n  males. 

Authorities  for  Fiction  II.  —  This  fiction  also  is  in  terms  maintained  by  Gall.'" 
Neither  he  nor  any  other  phrenologist  has  adduced  any  proof  of  this  paradox; 
nor  is  there,  I  believe,  to  be  found  a  single  authority  for  its  support ;  while  its 
refutation  is  involved  in  the  refutation  already  given  to  fiction  I.  Nannoni,"* 
indeed,  says  —  "the  opinion  of  Fallopius  that  the  frontal  sinuses  are  often 
wanting  in  women,  is  refuted  by  observation  ; "  but  Fallopius  says  nothing  oi 
the  sort.     It  is  also  a  curious  circumstance,  that  th«  great  majority  of  cases  in 


« 


1  De  Sin.  Front.,  p.  5. 

2  Elem.,  vol.  i.  p  133. 

3  Disq.  Anal,  lib   Hi.  c.  4. 

*  Annot.  Acad.,  lib.  i.  c.  11,  et  Tab.  Oee. 


J  Osteol.  par  Sue,  p.  54. 

6  Elem   Phys.  v.  p.  138. 

7  As  above. 

t>  Traltato  dt  Anatomia.  1788.  p.  66- 


APPENDIX.  671 

which  worms,  etc.,  have  been   found  in   the   sinus,  have  occurred  in  females. 
This  is  noticed  by  Salzmann  and  Ilonold.' 

My  own  observations,  extending,  as  I  have  remarked,  to  above  three  hun- 
dred crania,  confirm  the  doctrine  of  all  anatomists,  that  in  either  sex,  the 
absence  of  this  cavity  is  a  rare  and  abnormal  phsenomenon.  if  not  an  erroneous 
assertion.  I  may  notice,  by  the  way,  the  opinion  of  some  anatonilsts,^  that  the 
sinuses  are  smaller  in  women  than  in  men,  seems  to  be  the  result  of  too  hasty 
an  induction ;  and  I  am  inclined  to  think,  from  all  I  have  observed,  that  pro- 
portionally to  the  less  size  of  the  female  cranium,  they  will  be  found  equally 
extensive  with  the  male. 

Authorities  for  Fiction  III. —  This  fiction  was  maintained  by  Spurzheim  while 
in  this  country,  from  one  of  whose  publications^  it  is  extracted.  It  is,  perhaps, 
one  of  the  highest  flights  of  phrenological  fancy.  Nor  has  it  failed  of  exciting 
emulation  in  the  sect.  "While  a  man,"  says  Sir  George  Mackenzie,*  "  is  in 
the  prime  of  life,  and  healthy,  and  manifests  the  faculties  of  the  frontal  organs, 
such  a  cavity  i><;>7/ .se/rA;m  exists  "(!)  *****  "  We  have  examined  a  gueat 
MANY  skulls,  and  we  have  not  yet  seen  onk  having  the  sinus,  that  could  be 
proved  to  have  belonged  to  a  person  in  the  vigor  of  life  and  mind."  (!!)  Did 
Sir  George  ever  see  any  skull  which  belonged  to  any  "  person  in  the  vigor  of 
life  and  mind"  without  a  sinus?  Did  he  ever  see  any  adult  skull  of  any  per- 
son whatever  in  which  such  a  cavity  was  not  to  be  found  ? 

Proof  of  the  Fact,  in  opposition  to  this  Fiction.  —  This  fiction  deserves  no 
special  answer.     It  is  already  more  than  sufficiently  refuted  under  the  first. 

It  is  true,  indeed,  the  doctrine  that  the  frontal  sinuses  wax  larae  in  old  a"e  is 
stated  in  many  anatomical  works.  I  find  it  as  far  back  as  those  of  Vidus 
Vidius  and  Fallopius,  but  I  find  no  ground  for  such  a  statement  in  nature. 
This  I  assert  on  a  comparative  examination  of  some  thirty  aged  skulls.  In 
fact,  about  the  smallest  frontal  sinus  that  I  ever  saw,  was  in  the  head  of  a 
woman  who  was  accidentally  killed  in  her  hundred  and  first  year.  (See  also 
the  appended  Table.)  I  take  this  indeed  for  one  of  the  instances  in  which 
anatomical  authors  have  blindly  copied  each  other;  so  that  what  originates  in 
a  blunder  or  a  rash  induction,  ends  in  having,  to  appearance,  almost  catholic 
authority  in  its  favor.  A  curious  instance  of  this  secjuacity  occurs  to  me.  The 
common  fowl  has  an  encephalos,  in  proportion  to  its  body,  about  as  one  to  five 
hundred  ;  that  is,  it  has  a  brain  less,  by  relation  to  its  body,  than  almost  any 
other  bin]  or  beast.  Pozzi  (Puetos),  in  a  small  table  which  he  published,  pave 
the  proportion  of  the  encephalos  of  the  cock  to  its  boily.  by  a  blunder,  at  about 
half  its  amount;  that  is,  as  one  to  two  hundred  and  fitly.  Ilaller,  copying 
Pozzi's  ob.servation,  dropt  the  cipher,  and  reconls  in  his  Uible,  the  brain  of  the 
common  fowl  as  bearing  a  proportion  to  the  b<idy  of  one  to  twenty-five.  This 
double  error  was  shortly  copied  by  Cuvier,  Tiedemann,  and,  as  I  have  myself 
noticed,  bv  some  twenty  otlu-r  jiliysiologists ;  so  tiiat,  at  the  present  moment,  to 
dispute  the  fact  of  the  common  fowl  having  a  brain  more  than  double  the  size 
of  the  human,  in  proportion  to  its  body,  woiild  be  to  maintain  a  paradox  ooun- 

1  De    Verjn.  e.    Nar   Exeuss.      (Mailer.   Disp.  3  Answer  to    Objections  agninst  the  Dcririntt 

Med.  Prncl.  i.  n.  2.">  )  of  Gall,  etc  ,  p.  V9. 

-  Instar  omnium,  v.  Scimmeriiig,  De  F.  C.  H.  *  lUuntrattons^  p.  228. 
i  eec  62. 


672 


APPENDIX 


ter  to  the  whole  stream  of  scientific  authority.  The  doctrine  of  the  larger  th* 
sinus  the  older  the  skull,  stands,  I  believe,  on  no  better  footing.  Indeed,  the 
general  opinion,  that  the  brain  contracts  in  the  decline  of  life,  is,  to  say  the 
least  of  it,  very  iloubtful,  as  I  may  take  another  opportunity  of  showing. 

As  to  the  effect  of  chronic  insanity  in  amplifying  the  sinuses,  I  am  a  skeptic ; 
for  I  have  seen  no  such  effect  in  the  crania  of  madmen  which  I  have  inspected. 
At  all  events,  admitting  the  phrenological  fancy,  it  could  have  no  influence  on 
the  question,  for  the  statistics  of  insanity  show,  that  there  could  not  be  above 
one  cranium  in  four  hundred  where  madness  could  have  exerted  any  effect. 


IV.  —  Extent  of  the  Sinus. 

Fact.  —  While  the  sinus  is  always  regularly  present,  it,  however,  varies 
appreciably  in  its  extent.  For  whilst,  on  the  average,  it  affects  six  or  seven 
organs,  it  is,  however,  impossible  to  determine  whether  it  be  confined  to  one  or 
extended  to  some  seventeen  of  these. 

This  fact  is  counter  to  three  phrenological  fictions  : 

Fiction  I.  —  The  frontal  sinus  is  a  small  cavity. 

Fiction  II.  —  The  frontal  sinus,  when  present,  affects  only  the  organ  of 
locality. 

Fiction  III.  —  When  the  sinus  does  exist,  it  only  extends  an  obstacle  over 
two  organs  (Size  and  Lower  Individuality),  or  at  most,  partially  affects  a 
third  rLo(!ality). 

Authorities  for  Fiction  I.  —  Mr.  Combe '  maintains  this  fiction,  that  the  frontal 
sinus  "  is  a  small  cavity." 

Authorities  for  Fiction  II.  —  Gall^  contemplates  and  speaks  of  the  sinus  as 
only  affecting  locality ;  and  the  same  may  be  said  of  Spurzheim,  in  his  earlier 
English  works.^ 

Authorities  for  Fiction  HI.  —  This  fiction  is  that  into  which  Spurzheim  modi- 
fied his  previous  paradoxes,  when,  in  1825,  he  published  his  "Phrenology."* 
Mr.  Combe  allows  that  the  sinus,  in  ordinary  cases,  extends  over  locality,  as 
well  as  over  size  and  lower  individuality. 

All  these  fictions  are,  however,  sufficiently  disproved  at  once  by  the  follow- 
ing 

Proof  of  the  Fact.  —  The  phrenologists  term  the  sinus  (when  they  allow  it 
being)  "  a  small  cavity."  Compare  this  with  the  description  given  by  impar- 
tial anatomists  of  these  caverns.  Yidus  Vidius'  characterizes  them  by  "spatium 
7ion  parvum  ;  "  Banhinus''  styles  them  "  cavitates  insignes ;  "  Spigelius,^  "  caver- 
ns© satis  amplce;"  Laurentlus,**  "sinus  amplissimi;"  Bartholinus.^  "cavitates 
amplissimce:"  Petit,^"  " ^ran(/s  cavites  irregulieres ; "  Sabatier,'^  "cavitea  large* 


1  System,  p.  32. 

-'  As  quoted  above. 

•"  Phys.  Syst.,  p.  236,  and  Exam,  of  Obj,  p. 


79. 


*  P.  115. 

5  Anat.  lib.  ii.  e.  2. 


6  Anat  lib  iii  c  5. 
"  De  Fabr.  lib.  ii  c  5 

8  Hist.  Anat-  lib  ii.  c.  9 

9  Anat.  lib.  iv.,  c.  6. 

10  Palfyn  An.  ch.  i  p.  82. 

11  Anat. 


APPENDIX. 


673 


•et  profondex ;"    Sommering/   "cava   ampla;"   Monro,  primus,^   ^^ great    cavi- 
ties;" and  his  grandson,''  "  large  cavities." 

The  phrenologists  further  assert,  that  in  ordinary  cases  the  frontal  sinus 
covers  only  two  petty  organs  and  a  half;  that  is,  extends  only  a  few  lines 
beyond  the  root  of  the  nose.  But  what  teach  the  anatomists  ?  "  The  frontal 
sinuses,"  says  Portal,*  "  are  much  more  extensive  than  is  generally  believed." 
"  In  genera!"  says  Professor  Waltlier,^  "  the  sinuses  ascend  in  height  nearly 
to  the  middle  of  the  frontal  hone."  Patissier"  observes,  that  "their  extent 
Taries  to  infinity,  is  sometimes  stretched  upwards  to  the  frontal  protuberances, 
and  to  the  sides,  as  far  as  the  external  orbitar  apophyses,  as  is  seen  in  many 
crania  in  the  cabinet  of  the  Paris  Faculty  of  Medicine."  Bichat''  delivers  the 
same  doctrine  nearly  in  the  same  words;  which,  contradicted  by  none,  is  main- 
tained by  Albinus,*  Ilaller,^  Buddeus,"^  Monro  T^nwM.s-,"  and  /er/iM.s-,'^  Blumen- 
bach,'''  Sommcring,^*  Fife,'^  Cloquet,^*'  Velpeau,"^  —  and,  in  a  word,  by  every 
osteologist;  for  all  represent  these  cavities  as  endless  in  their  varieties,  and 
extending  not  unfri'<jucntly  to  the  outer  angles  of  the  eyebrow,  and  even  to 
the  parietal  bones.  To  finish  by  a  quotation  from  one  of  the  last  and  best 
observers:  "In  relation,"  says  Voigtel,'*  "to  their  abnonnal  greatness  or 
smallness,  the  differences,  in  this  respect,  whether  in  one  subject  as  compared 
with  another,  or  in  one  sinus  in  relation  to  the  opposite  of  the  same  skull,  are 
of  so  frequent  occurrence  that  they  vary  almost  in  every  cranium.  They  are 
found  so  small,  that  their  depth,  measured  from  before  backwards,  is  hardly 
more  than  a  line ;  in  others,  on  the  contrary,  a  space  of  from  four,  five,  to  six 
lines  (i.  e.  half  an  inch),  is  found  between  the  anterior  and  posterior  wall. 
Still  more  remarkable  are  the  variations  of  these  cavities,  in  relation  to  their 
height,  as  thoy  frequently  rise  from  the  trifling  height  of  four  lines  to  an  inch 
at  the  glabella."  ^I.  VelpeaB,  speaking  of  this  great  and  indeterminable  ex- 
tent of  the  sinus,  adds:  "  this  disposition  must  prevent  us  from  being  able  to 
judge  of  the  volume  of  the  anterior  parts  of  the  brain  by  the  exterior  of  the 
cranium;'' — an  observation  sufficiently  obvious  in  relation  to  Phrenology,  and 
previously  made  by  the  present  Dr.  Monro.'^ 

On  the  sinus  and  its  extent,  two  anatomists  only,  as  far  as  I  am  aware,  have 
given  an  articulate  account  of  their  inductions  — Schulze,  and  the  present  Dr. 
Monro. 

The  former,'-'"  who  wrote  a  distinct  treatise  On  the  Cnrilies  or  Sinuses  of  the 
Oraninl  Hones,  examined  only  ten  skulls,  and  does  not  detail  the  dimensions  of 
each  several  sinus.  After  describing  these  cavities,  which  he  says  "plerisque 
hominibus  formantur,"  he  adds,  that  "  when  of  a  middling  size  they  hardly 
exten<l  towards  the  temples  beyond  the  centre  of  the  i-ye,  where  the  orbital 


1  De  Fab.  i:  sec.  35. 

2  Osteal  par  Sur,  p.  64. 
S  Elements. 

4  Aimt.  Meil.  i.  pp.  102.  2.'}8. 
t<  Ahk.  V.  Irokn.  An.,  p.  113,3. 

•i  Diet.  (Its  Sq.  Med.,  t.  61,  p.  3?2. 

5  Anat.  Dr!:c.,  c.  p.  102. 

«  Annot.  Acait.,  lib.  i.  c.  ii.  (?) 
".'  Elc7n   V.  p.  138. 
W  Obs.  Anat.,  sec.  8. 


11  Osteol.  par.  Sue.  p.  54. 

12  Elements. 
n  Anat. 

U  Anat.  Deicr.  t.  l,8cc.  153,  edit.  3. 

I.l    Traitt^  d\inat.  Chir. 

16  De  Sin.  J!V  ,  p.  3. 

ir  De  Fab.  c.  ii.  t.  SfC.  94. 

1«  P<ith.  anat.  i.  p.  289. 

19  Elem.  p   133. 

•-■O  Imc.  eit. 


S3 


674  APPENDIX. 

vault  is  highest;  and  if  you  measure  their  height,  from  the  insertion  of  th» 
nasal  bones,  you  will  find  it  equal  to  an  inch.  Such  is  the  condition  of  this 
cavity  when  moderate.  That  there  are  sinuses  far  greater,  was  taught  me  bv 
another  inspection  of  a  cranium.  In  this  case,  the  vacuity  on  the  right  did  not 
pass  the  middle  of  the  orbit,  but  that  on  the  left  stretched  so  far  that  it  only 
ended  over  the  external  angle  of  the  eyebrow,  forming  a  cavity  of  at  least  two 
inches  in  breadth.  Its  depth  was  such  as  easily  to  admit  the  least  joint  of  thd 
middle  finger.  Its  height,  measured  from  the  root  of  the  nose  on  the  left  side, 
exceeded  two  inches,  on  the  right  it  was  a  little  less ;  the  left  sinus  was,  how> 
ever,  shallower  than  the  right.  On  the  left  side  I  have  said  the  cavity  termin, 
dted  over  the  external  angle  of  the  orbit.  From  this  place,  a  bony  wall  ran 
towards  the  middle  of  the  crista  Galli,  and  thus  separated  the  sinus  into  a  pos- 
terior and  an  anterior  cavity.  The  posterior  extended  so  far  towards  the  tem- 
ples, that  it  reached  the  place  where  the  frontal  and  sincipetal  bones  and  the 
processes  of  the  sphenoidal  meet.  It  covered  the  whole  arch  of  the  orbit,  so 
that  all  was  here  seen  hollow,"  etc. 

After  describing  sundry  appearances  which  the  sinuses  exhibited  in  another 
skull,  he  observes :  "  It  was  my  fortune  to  see  and  to  obtain  possession  of  one 
cranium  in  which  of  neither  of  the  frontal  nor  the  sphenoidal  cavities  was  there 
any  vestige  whatsoever.  In  this  specimen  the  bones  in  which  these  vacuities 
are  situated  were  thicker  than  usual,  and  more  cavernous ; "  an  observation, 
as  we  ha^e  seen,  made  by  other  anatomists.  However  subversive  of  the  phre- 
nological statement,  it  will  soon  be  seen  that  Schulze  has  understated  the  usual 
extent  of  the  impediment. 

Dr.  Monro,^  after  mentioning  that  there  *'  were  forty-five  crania  of  adults  jn 
the  Anatomical  Museum,  cut  with  a  view  to  exhibit  the  difierent  sizes  and  forms 
of  the  frontal  sinuses,"  says  :  "  I  measured  the  breadth  or  distance  across  the 
forehead ;  the  height  or  distance  upwards  from  the  transverse  suture,  where  it 
divides  the  frontal  bones  and  bones  of  the  nose  ;  and  also  the  depth  of  the 
frontal  sinuses;  In  nine  different  skulls  in  which  these  sinuses  were  large." 
Omitting  the  table,  it  is  sufficient  to  say,  that  in  these  crania  the  average  Is  as 
follows :  —  Breadth,  within  a  trifle  of  three  inches ;  heif/ht,  one  inch  and  five- 
tenths  ;  depth,  above  one  inch.  Here  the  depth  seems  not  merely  the  distance 
between  the  external  and  internal  tables,  but  the  horizontal  distance  from  the 
glabella  to  the  posterior  wall  of  the  sinus.  These  nine  crania  thus  yield  an 
average,  little  larger  than  an  indifferent  induction  ;  and  though  the  sinuses  are 
stated  to  have  been  large,  the  skulls  appear  to  have  been  selected  by  Dr. 
Monro,  not  so  much  in  consequence  of  that  circumstance,  as  because  they  were 
so  cut  as  to  afford  the  means  of  measuring  the  cavity  in  Its  three  dimensions. 

By  the  kindness  of  Dr.  Monro  and  Mr.  Mackenzie,  I  was  permitted  to  exam- 
ine all  the  crania  in  the  public  anatomical  museum,  and  in  the  private  collection 
of  the  Professor ;  many  were,  for  the  first  time,  laid  open  for  my  inspection. 
I  was  thus  enabled  to  institute  an  impartial  induction.  A  random  measure- 
ment of  above  thirty  perfect  crania  (laying  aside  three  skulls  of  old  persons,  in 
which  the  cavity  of  the  sinus  was  almost  entirely  occupied  by  a  pumicose 
deposit)  gave  the  following  average  result*  breadth,  two  inches  four-tenths; 

1  EUmrnts,  i.,  p.  134. 


~ APPENDIX.  67o 

height,  one  inch  and  nearly  five-tenths ;  depth  (taken  hke  Dr.  Monro),  rather 
more  than  eight-tentlis  of  an  inch.  What  in  this  inchiction  was  proliahly  acci- 
dental, tlic  sinuses  of  the  female  crania  exhibited  an  average,  in  all  the  three 
dimensions,  almost  absolutely  equal  to  that  of  the  male.  The  relative  size  was 
eonse(juently  greater. 

Before  the  sinuses  of  the  fifty  crania  of  Dr.  Spurzheim's  collection  (of 
which  I  am  immediately  to  speak)  were,  with  the  sanction  of  Professor  Jame- 
son, laid  open  upon  one  side,  I  had  measured  their  three  dimensions  by  the 
probe.  This  certainly  could  not  ascertain  their  full  extent,  as,  among  other 
impediments,  the  probe  is  arrested  by  the  septa,  which  so  freijuently  subdivide 
each  sinus  into  lesser  chambers;  but  the  labor  was  not  to  be  undergone  a  sec- 
ond time,  especially  as  the  proportional  e.xtcnt  of  these  cavities  is  by  relation 
to  the  phrenological  organs  articulately  exhibited  in  the  table.  As  it  was,  the 
average  obtained  by  the  probe  is  as  follows:  —  In  the  thirty-six  male  crania 
(one  could  not  be  measured  by  the  probe),  the  breadth  was  two  inches  and 
nearly  four-tenths ;  the  height,  one  inch  and  nearly  three-tenths ;  the  depth, 
rather  more  than  one  inch.  In  the  twelve  female  crania  (here,  also,  one  could 
not  be  measured  by  the  probe),  the  breadth  was  one  inch,  and  rather  more 
than  nine-tenths ;  the  height,  nearly  one  inch  ;  the  depth,  within  a  trifle  of 
nine-tenths. 

I  should  notice  that  in  all  these  measurements,  the  thickness  of  the  external 
plate  is  included  in  the  depth. 

So  true  is  the  observation  of  Portal,  that  the  '■\frontal  sinuses  are  much  more 
extensive  than  is  generally  believed." 

The  collection  of  fifty  crania,  of  which  the  average  size  of  the  frontal  sinuses 
has  been  given  above,  and  of  which  a  detailed  table  of  the  impediment  inter- 
posed by  these  cavities  to  phrenological  observation  now  follows,  was  sent  by 
M.  Royer,  of  the  Jardin  des  Plantes  (probably  by  mistake)  to  the  Royal  Mu- 
seum of  Natural  History  in  Edinburgh;  the  skulls,  taken  from  the  catacombs 
of  Paris,  having,  under  Dr.  Spurzheim'n  inspection,  been  selected  to  illustrate 
the  development  of  the  various  phrenological  organs,  which  development  is 
diligently  marked  on  the  several  crania. 

Thus,  though  I  have  it  in  my  power  to  afford  a  greatly  more  extensive  table, 
the  table  of  these  fifty  crania  is,  for  the  present  purpose,  sufficient.     For  — 

1",  They  constitute  a  complete  and  definite  collection  ; 

2°,  A  collection  authoritative  in  all  points  against  the  phrenologists ; 

3°,  One  to  which  it  can  be  objecti'd  by  none,  that  it  affords  only  a  selected 
or  partial  induction  in  a  ([uestion  touching  the  frontal  sinus; 

4°,  It  is  a  j'ollection  j)atent  to  the  examination  of"  the  whole  world  ; 

5°,  In  all  the  .skulls  a  sinus  has  on  one  side  been  laid  open  to  its  lull  extent  ; 
the  capacity  of  botii  is  thus  easily  ascertained;  and,  at  the  same  time  with  the 
size  of  the  cavity,  the  thickness  and  salience  of  the  external  frontal  table 
remains  apparent.  • 

Table  exhibiting  the  variable  extent  and  unappreciable  impediment,  in  a 
phrenological  relation,  of  the  Frontal  Sinuses;  in  a  collection  of  fifty  crania, 
selected,  aud  their  development  marked,  under  the  direction  of  Dr.  Spurzheira; 


676 


APPENDIX. 


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O)  The  organs  denoted  by  these  numbers:  — ix.  7,  Constructivenes*?  xx.  32.  Mirthfulness  or  Wit;  xxii.  19  (2),  Individuality 
l<ower  Individuality:  xxiii.  Lfl,  Configuration,  Figure;  xxiv.  21,  Size;  xxv.  22,  Weight,  Kesistance:  xxvi.  2.",  Color:  xxvii.  24,  Lo- 
•ality;  xxviii.  2ti,  Calculation,  TCuniber;  xxix.  25,  Order;  xxx.  19,  (1)  Eventuality.  Upper  Individuality;  xxxi.  'Jl,  Time;  xxxiL  28, 
Helody,  Tune:  xxxviii.  -.'J,  Language  —  this  organ  Gall  divides  in  two,  to  w'A,  into  the  organ  of  Language  and  the  organ  of  Word*; 
xxxiv.  .'JO.  Comparison;  xxxv.  ,",!,  Causality.  The  order  of  the  numbers  in  this  table  was  taken  from  that  of  a  more  ezteaiiTC  Ukd 
gaoeral  table :  so  Uiat  wluUt  hei«  xx.  32,  hai  not  been  affected  at  all,  there  it  was  affected  mor«  frequently  tban  iz.  7. 


APPENDIX.  677 

In  these  circumstances  it  is  to  be  observed  — 

In  the  first  place,  that,  as  already  noticed,  whiU;  the  developments  of  all  the 
crania  have  been  carefully  marked,  the  presence  of  the  frontal  sinuses  has 
been  signalized  only  in  one  skull  (the  male  No.  19,  xiv.),  in  which  they  are, 
however,  greatly  below  even  the  average. 

In  the  second  place,  that  the  extent  of  the  sinus  varies  indeterminably  from 
an  affection  of  one  to  an  affection  of  sixteen  organs. 

In  the  third  place,  in  this  induction  of  thirty-seven  male  and  thirteen  female 
crania,  the  average  proportional  extent  of  the  sinuses  is  somewhat  less  in  the 
female  than  in  the  male  skulls  ;  the  sinus  in  the  former  covering  4.4,  and  affect- 
ing 1.2  organs;  in  the  latter  covering  5,  and  affecting  2.1  organs.  This  induc- 
tion is,  however,  too  limited,  more  especially  in  tlu;  female  crania,  to  afford  a 
determination  of  the  point,  even  were  it  not  at  variance  with  other  and  more 
extensive  observations. 

In  the  fourth  place,  the  male  crania  exhibit  at  once  the  largest  and  tin- 
smallest  sinuses.  The  largest  male  sinus  covere  12,  and  affects  4  ;  while  the 
largest  female  sinus  covers  7,  and  affects  3  organs ;  whereas,  while  the  smallest 
male  sinus  affects  only  1,  the  smallest  female  sinus  covers  2  organs. 

In  the  fifth  place,  so  far  from  supporting  the  phrenological  assertion  that  the 
sinuses  are  only  found,  or  only  found  in  size,  in  the  crania  of  the  old,  this  their 
collection  tends  to  prove  the  very  reverse ;  for  here  we  find  about  the  smallest 
sinuses  in  the  oldest  heads. 


III.     PERCEPTION.  — FRAGMENTS.  — (See  p.  286.) 

(Written  in  connectibn  with  proposed  Memoiu  of  Mk.  Stewart.     On  Desk,  Mar 

18.56;  written  Autumn  1855. — Ed.) 

There  are  three  considerations  which  seem  to  have  been  principally  effec- 
tive in  promoting  the  theory  ol"  a  ^Icdiate  or  Representative  Perception,  and 
by  perception  is  meant  the  ap[)rehciisi(>n,  through  sense,  of  external  things. 
These  might  operate  severally  or  togcthi-r. 

The  first  is,  that  such  a  hypothesis  is  necessary  to  render  possible  the  percep- 
tion of  distant  objects.  It  was  taken  as  granted  that  certain  material  realities, 
(as  a  sun,  stars,  etc.),  not  immediately  present  to  sense,  were  cognized  in  a  per- 
ceptive act.  These  realities  could  not  be  known  immediately,  or  in  themselves, 
unless  known  as  they  existed;  ami  they  existed  only  iis  they  existed  in  their 
place  in  space.  If,  therefore,  the  perceptive  mind  did  not  sally  out  to  them, 
(which,  with  the  exception  of  one  or  two  theorists,  was  scouted  as  an  impos- 
.sible  hypothesis),  an  immediate  perception  behooved  to  be  abandonetl.  and  the 
sensitive  cosnifion  we  have  of  them  must  be  vicarious ;  that  is.  not  of  the  real- 
ities  themselves,  as  present  to  our  organs,  and  presented  to  apprehension,  but 
of  something  different  from  the  realities  eternally  existing,  through  which,  how- 
ever, they  are  mediately  represented.  Various  theories  in  n-ganl  to  tlie  nature 
of  this  mediate  or  vicarious  object  may  be  entertaineil  ;  but  these  may  be  (jver- 


678  APPENDIX. 

passed.     This  first  consideration  alone  was  principally  effectual  among  naateri- 
alists :  on  them  the  second  had  no  influence. 

A  second  consideration  was  the  opposite  and  apparently  inconsistent  nature 
of  the  object  and  subject  of  cognition  ;  for  here  the  reality  to  be  known  is  ma- 
terial, whereas  the  mind  knowing  is  immaterial;  while  it  was  long  generally 
believed,  that  what  is  known  nuist  be  of  an  analogous  essence  (the  same  or 
similar)  to  what  knows.  In  consequence  of  this  persuasion,  it  was  deemed 
impossible  that  the  immaterial,  unextended  mind  could  apprehend  in  itself,  as 
extended,  a  material  reality.  To  exi)lain  the  fact  of  sensitive  perception,  it 
was  therefore  supposed  requisite  to  attenuate  —  to  immaterialize  the  immediate 
object  of  perception,  by  dividing  the  object  known  from  the  reality  existing. 
Perception  thus  became  a  vicarious  or  mediate  cognition,  in  which  the  cor- 
poreal was  said  to  be  represented  by  the  incorporeal. 


Perception  —  Positive  Result. 

1.  We  perceive  only  through  the  senses. 

2.  The  senses  are  corporeal  instruments,  —  parts  of  our  bodily  organism. 

3.  We  are,  therefore,  percipient  only  through,  or  by  means  of,  the  body.  In 
other  words,  material  and  external  things  are  to  us  only  not  as  zero,  inasmuch 
as  they  are  apprehended  by  the  mind  In  their  relation  with  the  material  organ 
which  it  animates,  and  with  which  It  is  united. 

4.  An  external  existence,  and  an  organ  of  sense,  as  both  material,  can  stand 
in  relation  only  according  to  the  laws  of  matter.  According  to  these  laws, 
things  related,  —  connected,  must  act  and  be  acted  on;  but  a  thing  can  act 
only  where  It  Is.  Therefore  the  thing  perceived,  and  the  percipient  organ, 
must  meet  In  place,  —  must  be  contiguous.  The  consequence  of  this  doctrine 
is  a  complete  simplification  of  the  theory  of  perception,  and  a  return  to  the 
most  ancient  speculation  on  the  point.  All  sensible  cognition  is,  in  a  certain 
acceptation,  reduced  to  Touch,  and  this  is  the  very  conclusion  maintained  by 
the  venerable  authoritv  of  Dcmocrltus. 

According  to  this  doctrine,  it  is  erroneous,  in  the  first  place,  to  affirm  that 
we  are  percipient  of  distant,  etc.,  objects. 

It  Is  erroneous,  in  the  second  place,  to  say  that  we  perceive  external  things 
in  themselves.  In  the  signification  that  we  perceive  them  as  existing  in  their 
own  nature,  and  not  in  relation  to  the  living  organ.  The  real,  the  total,  the 
only  object  perceived  has,  as  a  relative,  two  phases.  It  may  be  described  either 
as  the  idiopathic  affection  of  the  sense  (t.  e.  the  sense  in  relation  to  an  external 
reality),  or  as  the  quality  of  a  thing  actually  determining  such  or  such  an 
affection  of  the  sentient  organ  (/.  e.  an  external  reality  in  correlation  to  the 
sense). 

A  corollary  of  the  same  doctrine  is,  that  what  have  been  denominated  the 
Primary  Qualities  of  body,  are  only  perceived  through  the  Secondary;  in  fact. 
Perception  Proper  cannot  be  realized  except  through  Sensation  Proper.  But 
synchronous. 

The  object  of  perception  is  an  affection,  not  of  the  mind  as  apart  from  body; 


AFPKNDIX.  6Tlt 

« 

not  of  the  body  as  apart  from  mind,  but  of  the  composite  formed  bv  union  of 
the  two;  tliat  is,  of  the,  animated  or  living  organism  (Aristotle). 

In  the  process  of  perception  there  is  required  both  an  act  of  the  conscious 
anind  and  a  passion  of  the  affected  body  ;  the  one  without  the  other  is  null. 
Galen  has,  therefore,  well  said,  ■'  Sensitive  perception  is  not  a  mere  passive  or 
iffi'Ctive  change,  but  the  discrimination  of  an  affective  change."  '  (Aristotle, — 
judgment.) 

Perception  suj)poses  Consciousness,  and  Consciousness  supposes  Memory 
and  Judgment;  for,  abstract  Consciousness,  and  there  is  no  Perception;  ab- 
stract Memory,  or  Judgment,  and  Consciousness  is  abolished.  (Ilobbes,  — 
Memory;  Aristotle,  —  Judgment  of  Sense.)  Memory,  Recollection;  for 
change  is  necessary  to  Consciousness,  and  change  is  only  to  be  apprehended 
through  the  faculty  of  Remembrance.  Hobbes  has,  therefore,  truly  said  of 
Perception,  —  ••  Sentire  semper  idem,  et  non  sentire,  ad  idem  recident."  -'  But 
there  could  be  no  discriminative  apprehension,  supposing  always  memory  with- 
out an  act  whereby  difference  was  afhrmed,  or  sameness  denied ;  that  is, 
without  an  act  of  Judgment.  Aristotle '  is,  therefore,  right  hi  making  Pei- 
ception  a  Judgment. 


IV.     LAWS   OF   THOUGHT.  — (See  p.  .527.) 

(Written  in  connection  with  j^roposed  Memoiu  ok  Mk.  Stewart.     On  Desk,  May 
18.56;  written  Autumn,  IS.").!. —  Ed.^ 

The  doctrine  of  Contradiction,  or  of  ContradictOT-ies  (afi«/w»  -rijs  &trri(pdaea>s), 
that  Affirmation  or  Negation  is  a  necessity  of  thought,  whilst  Affirmation  and 
Negation  are  incompatible,  is  developed  into  three  sides  or  phases,  each  of 
which  implies  both  the  others,  —  phases  which  may  obtain,  and  actually  have 
received,  severally,  the  name  of  Lan\  Principle,  or  Axiovi.  Neglecting  the 
historical  order  in  which  these  were  scientifically  named  and  articulately 
developed,  they  are  : 

1°,  The  Law,  Principle,  or  Axiom,  of  Lhiitili/,  which,  in  regard  to  the  same 
thing,  immediately  or  directly  enjoins  the  affirmation  of  it  with  itself,  and  medi- 
ately or  indirectly  proliiliits  its  negation  :   (.1  is  A.) 

2°,  The  Law,  etc.,  of  Contrailictiim  (properly  Non-cantratiirtiou),  which,  in 
regard  to  contradictories,  explicitly  ••njoining  their  reciprocal  negation,  implic- 
itly prohibits  their  reciprocal  allirmation  :  (.1  is  uol  Xol-A.)  In  other  wonls. 
contradictories  are  thought  as  existences  incompatible  at  the  same  time,  —  as  ai 
once  mutually  exclusive. 

3°.  The  Law,  etc.,  of  Exclwlfd  MiiMle  or  TJiiffl,  which  declaivs  tliat.  wliilst 
contradictories  are  only  two,  everything,  if  explicitly  thought,  must  be  thought 
as  of  these  either  the  one  or  the  other:  (.1  is  ritlur  li  or  Xol-B.)  In  differenl 
terms:  —  Affirmation  and  negation  of  the  same  thing,  in  the  same  n-spect.  have 
no  conceivable  medium;  whilst  anything  actually  may,  and  virtually  must,  he 

1  Se€  Ilfii/'s  Kmks,  p.  878.  —  Ev.  2  See  Ibid.  —  Ed.  t  See  IbU  —  Kd. 


680  APPENDIX. 

either  affirmed  or  denied  of  anything.  In  other  words  :  —  Every  predicate  is 
true  or  false  of  every  subject;  or,  contradictories  are  thought  as  incompossible, 
but,  at  the  same  time,  the  one  or  the  other  as  n(!cessary.  The  argument  from 
Contradiction  is  omnipotent  within  its  sphere,  but  that  sphere  is  narrow.  It 
has  tlie  tbllowing  Hmitations : 

1°,  It  is  negative,  not  positive;  it  may  refute,  but  it  is  incompetent  to  estab- 
lish. It  may  show  what  is  not,  but  never  of  itself,  what  is.  It  is  exclusively 
Logical  or  Formal,  not  Metaphysical  or  real ;  it  proceeds  on  a  necessity  of 
thought,  but  never  issues  in  an  Ontology  or  knowledge  of  existence. 

2°,  It  is  dependent ;  to  act  it  presupposes  a  counter-proposition  to  act  from. 

3°,  It  is  explicative,  not  ampliative;  it  analyzes  what  is  given,  but  does 
not  originate  information,  or  add  anything,  through  itself,  to  our  stock  of 
knowledge. 

4^,  But,  what  is  its  principal  defect,  it  is  partial,  not  thorough-going.  It 
leaves  many  of  the  most  important  problems  of  our  knowledge  out  of  its  deter- 
mination ;  and  is,  therefore,  all  too  narrow  in  its  application  as  a  universal 
criterion  or  instrument  of  judgment.  For  were  we  left,  in  our  reasonings,  to  a 
dependence  on  the  principle  of  Contradiction,  we  should  be  unable  compe- 
tently to  attempt  any  argument  with  regard  to  some  of  tthe  most  interesting 
and  important  questions.  For  there  are  many  problems  in  the  philosophy  of 
mind  where  the  solution  necessarily  lies  between  what  are,  to  us,  the  one  or 
the  other  of  two  counter,  and,  therefore,  incompatible  alternatives,  neither  of 
which  are  we  able  to  conceive  as  possible,  but  of  which,  by  the  very  conditions 
of  thought,  we  are  compelled  to  acknowledge  that  the  one  or  the  other  cannot 
but  be ;  and  it  is  as  supplying  this  deficiency,  that  what  has  been  called  the 
argument  from  Common  Sense  becomes  principally  useful. 

The  principle  of  Contradiction,  or  rather  of  Non-contradiction,  appeal's  in 
two  forms,  and  each  of  these  has  a  different  application. 

In  the  first  place  (what  may  be  called  the  Lor/ical  application),  it  declares 
that,  of  Contradictories,  two  only  are  possible  in  thought ;  and  that  of  these 
alternatives  the  one  or  the  other,  exclusively,  is  thought  as  necessarily  true. 
This  phasis  of  the  law  is  unilateral ;  for  it  is  with  a  consciousness  or  cognition 
that  the  one  contradictory  is  necessarily  true,  and  the  other  contradictory  nec- 
essarily false.  This  one  logical  phasis  of  the  law  is  well  known,  and  has  been 
fully  developed. 

In  the  second  place  (what  may  be  called  the  Psychological  application), 
while  it  necessarily  declares  that,  -of  Contradictories,  both  cannot,  but  one 
must,  be,  still  bilaterally  admits  that  we  may  be  unable  positively  to  think  the 
possibility  of  either  alternative.  This,  the  psychological  phasis  of  the  law,  is 
comparatively  unknown,  and  has  been  generally  neglected.  Thus,  Exixtctwe 
we  cannot  but  think,  —  cannot  but  attribute  in  thought ;  nevertheless  we  can 
actually  conceive  neither  of  these  contradictory  alternatives,  —  the  absolute 
commencement,  the  infinite  non-commencement,  of  being.  As  it  is  with  Exist- 
ence, so  is  it  with  Time.  We  cannot  think  time  beginning;  we  cannot  think 
time  not  beginning.  So  also  with  Space.  We  are  unable  to  conceive  an  exist- 
ence out  of  space ;  yet  we  are  equally  unable  to  compass  the  notion  of  illimit 
able  or  infinite  space.     Our  capacity  of  thought  is  thus  peremptorily  proved 


APPENDIX.  681 

incompetent  to  what  we  necessarily  think  aVtout;  for,  whilst  what  we  think 
about  must  be  thouprht  to  Exist,  —  to  exist  in  Time,  —  to  exist  in  Space,  —  we 
are  unable  to  realize  the  counter-notions  of  Existence  commencinir  or  not  com- 
mencing, whether  in  Time  or  in  Space.  And  thus,  whilst  Existence,  Time, 
and  Space,  are  thp  indispensable  conditions,  tonus,  or  categories  of  actual 
thought,  still  are  we  unable  to  conceive  either  of  the  counter-alternatives,  in 
one  or  other  of  which  we  cannot  but  admit  that  they  exist.  These  and  such 
like  impotencies  of  positive  thought  have,  however,  as  I  have  stated,  been 
strangely  overlooked. 


V.    THE    CONDITIONED. 

(a.)     Kant's   Analysis   of   Judgments. —  (See  page  532.) 

(Fragment  from  Early  Papers,  probably  before  1836.  —  Ed.) 

Kant  analyzed  jydgn)ents  (a  priori)  into  analytic  or  identical  [or  explicatively 
and  synthetical ,  or  [ampliative,  non-identical^-  Great  fame  from  this.  But  he 
omitted  a  third  kind, — those  that  the  mind  is  compelled  to  form  by  a  law  of 
its  nature,  but  which  can  neither  be  reduced  to  analytic  judgments,  because 
they  cannot  be  subordinated  to  the  law  of  Contradiction,  nor  to  synthetical, 
because  they  do  not  seem  to  spring  from  a  positive  power  of  mind,  but  only 
arise  from  the  inability  of  the  mind  to  conceive  the  contrary. 

In  Analytic  judgments  —  (principle  utiontradictioii)  —  we  conceive  the  one 
alternative  as  necessary,  and  the  other  as  impossible.  In  Synthetic  judgments, 
we  conceive  the  affirmative  as  necessary,  but  not  [its  negation  as  self-contra- 
dictory]. 

Would  it  not  be  better  to  make  the  synthetic  of  two  kinds  —  a  positive  and 
negative  ?  Had  Kant  tried  whether  his  synthetic  judgments  n  prl<n-i  were  pos- 
itive or  negative,  he  would  have  reached  the  law  of  the  Conditioned,  which 
would  have  given  a  totally  new  aspect  to  his  Critique.  —  simplified,  abolished 
the  distinction  of  Verstand  and  Vcrntin/l,  wliidi  only  positive  and  negative,  (at 
lea.st  as  a  f;nulty  conceiving  the  Unconditioned,  and  left  it  only,  as  with 
Jacobi,  the  Novs,  the  locus  princifjinruni,  —  the  faiulty,  —  revelation,  of  ihe  prim- 
itive facts  or  faiths  of  consciousness,  —  the  Common  Sense  of  Keid),  the  dis- 
tinction of  Bf'(/ri(/'e  and  Idecn,  and  have  reduced  his  whole  Categories  and 
Ideas  to  the  category  of  the  Conditioned  and  its  suliordinates. 

(1853,  November).  —  There  are  three  degrees  or  epochs  wlii(  Ii  \vc  must 
distinguish  in  j)hilosopliical  speculation  touching  th(^  Necessary. 

In  the  first,  wliicli  we  may  call  the  .Vristotelic  or  PIatonico-.\ristotelic,  (he 
Necessary  was  regarded,  if  not  exclusively,  principally  and  |u-iinarily,  in  an 
objective  relation; — at  least  the  objective  and  subjective  were  not  discrimin- 
ated; and  it  was  defmerl  that  of  wliii  h  tlie  existence  of  the  opposite. — cuu- 
trarV,  —  is  impossible  —  what  could  not  but  be. 

StJ 


682  APPENDIX. 

In  the  second,  which  we  may  call  the  Leibnitzian  or  Leibnitzio-Kantian,  th* 
Necessary  was  regarded  primarily  in  a  subjective  respect,  and  it  was  defined 
that  of  which  the  thought  of  the  opposite,  —  contrary,  —  is  impossible  —  what 
we  (.annot'  but  think.  It  was  taken  for  granted,  that  what  we  cannot  think 
cannot  be,  and  what  we  must  think,  must  be ;  and  from  hence  there  was  also 
inferred,  without  qualification,  that  this  subjective  necessity  affords  the  dis- 
criminating criterion  of  our  native  or  a  priori  cognitions,  —  notions  and  judg- 
ments. 

But  a  third  discrimination  was  requisite ;  for  the  necessity  of  thought  be- 
hooved to  be  again  distinguished  into  two  kinds.  —  (See  Discussions,  2d  edit. 
Addenda.) 

ih )    Contradictions   proving  the   Psychological   Theory   of  the   Con- 

DiTiONED.  —  (July  1852.) 

1 .  Finite  cannot  comprehend,  contain  the  Infinite.  —  Yet  an  inch  or  minute, 
say,  ai'e  finites,  and  are  divisible  ad  infinitum,  that  is,  their  terminated  division 
incogitable. 

2.  Infinite  cannot  be  terminated  or  begun.  —  Yet  eternity  ab  ante  ends  noic 
and  eternity  a  post  begins  noiu.  —  So  apply  to  Space. 

3.  There  cannot  be  two  infinite  maxima.  —  Yet  eternity  ab  ante  and  a  post 
are  two  infinite  maxima  of  time. 

4.  Infinite  maximum  if  cut  into  two,  the  halves  cannot  be  each  infinite,  for 
nothing  can  be  greater  than  infinite,  and  thus  they  could  not  be  parts;  nor 
finite,  for  thus  two  finite  halves  would  make  an  infinite  whole. 

quantities 

!).  What  contains  infinite  extensions,  protensions,  intensions,  cannot  be 
passed  through,  —  come  to  an  end.  An  inch,  a  minute,  a  degree  contains 
these ;  ergo,  etc.  Take  a  minute.  This  contains  an  infinitude  of  protended 
ijuantities,  which  must  follow  one  after  another ;  but  an  infinite  series  of  suc- 
cessive pi*otensIons  can.  ex  termino,  never  be  ended ;  ergo,  etc. 

6.  An  infinite  maximum  cannot  but  be  all  inclusive.  Time  ah  ante  and  a 
post  infinite  and  exclusive  of  each  other;  ergo. 

7.  An  infinite  number  of  quantities  must  make  up  either  an  infinite  or  a 
finite  whole.  I.  The  former. —  But  an  inch,  a  minute,  a  degree,  contain  each 
an  infinite  number  of  quantities ;  therefore,  an  inch,  a  minute,  a  degree,  are 
each  infinite  wholes ;  which  is  absurd.  II.  The  latter.  —  An  infinite  number 
of  quantities  would  thus  make  up  a  finite  quantity ;  which  is  equallj-  absurd. 

8.  If  we  take  a  finite  quantity  (as  an  inch,  a  minute,  a  degree),  it  would 
appear  equally  that  there  are,  and  that  there  are  not,  an  equal  number  of 
quantities  between  these  and  a  greatest,  and  between  these  and  a  least.^ 

9.  An  absolutely  qui(;kest  motion  is  that  which  passes  from  one  point  to 
another  in  space  in  a  minimum  of  time.  But  a  quickest  motion  from  one  point 
to  another,  say  a  mile  distance,  and  from  one  to  another,  say  a  million  million 
of  miles,  is  thought  the  same ;  which  is  absurd. 

10.  A  wheel  turned  with  quickest  motion  ;  if  a  spoke  be  prolonged,  it  will 

1  See  Boscovich  on  Stay,  Philosophia  Recentiir,  i.  p.  284,  edit.  1755. 


APPENDIX.  683 

therefore  be  moved  by  a  motion  cjuicker  tlian  the  quickest.     The  .same  mav  h» 
shown  using  the  rim  antl  tlie  nave. 

11.  Contradictory  are  Boscovich  Points,  which  occupy  space,  and  are  inex- 
tended.^     Dynamism,  therefore,  in(;onceivable.     E  contra, 

1 2.  Alomism  also  inconceivable  ;  for  this  supposes  atoms,  —  minima  extended 
but  indivisible. 

13.  A  quantity,  say  a  foot,  has  an  infinity  of  parts.  Any  part  of  this  (juan- 
tity,  say  an  inch,  has  also  an  infinity.  But  one  infinity  is  not  larger  than 
another.     Therefore,  an  inch  is  equal  to  a  foot.- 

14.  If  two  divaricating  lines  are  produced  ad  infinitum  from  a  point  where 
they  form  an  acute  angle,  like  a  pyramid,  tlio  base  will  be  infinite  and,  at  the 
same  time,  not  infinite;  1°,  Because  terminated  by  two  points;  and,  2'*.  Be- 
cause shorter  than  the  sides  ;3  3^,  Base  could  not  be  drawn,  because  sides 
infinitely  long.^ 

15.  An  atom,  as  existent,  must  be  able  to  be  turned  round.  But  if  turneil 
round,  it  must  have  a  right  and  left  hand,  etc.,  and  these  its  signs  must  change 
their  place ;  therefore,  be  extended.^ 


(c.)    Philosophy  of  Absolute — Distinctions  of  Mode  of  Reaching  it. 

I.  Some  carry  tlic  Absolute  by  assault,  —  by  a  single  leap,  —  place  them- 
selves at  once  in  the  absolute,  —  take  it  as  a  datum;  others  climb  to  it  by 
degrees,  —  mount  to  the  absolute  fi-om  the  conditioned,  —  as  a  result. 

Former  —  Plotinus,  Schelling ;  latter  —  Hegel,  Cousin,  are  examples. 

II.  Some  place  cognition  of  Absolute  above,  and  in  opposition  to  conscious- 
ness.—  conception,  —  reflection,  the  conditions  of  which  are  difTereiicc,  plu- 
rality, and,  in  a  word,  condition,  limitation.  (Plotinus,  Schelling.)  Others  do 
not,  but  reach  it  through  consciousness,  etc  —  the  consciousness  of  difference, 
contrast,  etc. ;  giving,  when  sifted,  a  cognition  of  identity  (absolute).  (Ilegel. 
Cousin.) 

III.  Some,  to  realize  a  cognition  of  Absolute,  abolish  the  logical  laws  of  Con- 
tradiction and  Excluded  Middle  (as  Cusa,  Schelling,  Ilegel.  Plotinus  is  not 
explicit.).     Others  do  not  (as  Cousin). 

IV.  Some  explicitly  hold,  that,  as  the  Absolute  is  absolutely  one,  cognition 
and  existence  nnist  coincide;  —  to  know  the  absolute  is  to  l)e  the  absolute, — 
to  know  the  absolute  is  to  be  Go<l.  Others  do  not  explicitly  assert  this,  but 
only  hold  the  inipei-sonality  of  reason,  —  a  certain  union  with  (Jml;  in  hol(rm<: 
that  we  are  conscious  of  eternal  truths  as  in  the  divine  mind.  (Auguslin. 
Malebranche,  Price,  Cousin.) 

'   Seo  Boscovich.  i.  p.  .3(4.  <  Soo  Carloton,  (R'ii7o5o;)Ai(i  Univrrsn,  Auctori 

2  See Tellr/,  quoted  by  F.  Roii.T  S[Ki,  (P/iy.<-  Thnmn   Comptonn  Ctirlrtnn,  Anivrrpiir.   p    392, 

ira.  pars  I.  tract,  iii.  disp  i.  diili   4,  p.  154,e<lit.  1640.  —  En.) 

1652  —  Kl>. )  •'•  !^ee  Kant  in  Knig"»  Mrlnp/iysik.  p.  198 
■J  See  Bonae  S|R'i.  Pltysica,  [pars,  i,  tract,  iii. 

4isp.  i.  dub  2.  p  13!^  —  Kd.] 


664: 


APPENDIX. 


V.  Some  carry  up  man  into  the  Deity  (as  Schelling).  Others  bring  down 
the  Deity  to  man  ;  in  whose  philosophy  the  latter  is  the  highest  manifestation 
of  the  former,  —  man  apex  of  Deity. 

I*.  Some  think  Absolute  can  be  known  as  an  object  of  knowledge,  —  a  no- 
tion of  absolute  competent;  others  that  to  know  the  absolute  we  must  ha  th» 
absolute  (Schelling,  Plotinus?). 

*  Some  [hold]  that  unconditioned  is  to  be  believed,  not  known  ;  ethers  that 
it  can  be  known.  ^ 


{d.)     Sir   W.  Hamilton   to  Mr.  Henry   Calderwood. 

CoRDALE,  26th  Sept.,  1854. 

My  Dear  Sir  :  I  received  a  few  days  ago  your  Philosophy  of  the  Injinitey 
and  beg  leave  to  return  you  my  best  thanks,  both  for  the  present  of  the  book 
itself,  and  for  the  courteous  manner  in  which  my  opinions  are  therein  contro- 
verted. The  ingenuity  with  which  your  views  are  maintained,  does  great 
credit  to  your  metaphysical  ability;  and,  however  I  may  differ  from  them,  it 
gives  me  great  satisfaction  to  recognize  the  independence  of  thought  by  which 
they  are  distinguished,  and  to  acknowledge  the  candid  spirit  in  which  you 
have  written. 

At.  the  same  time,  I  regret  that  my  doctrines  (briefly  as  they  are  promul- 
gated on  this  abstract  subject)  have  been,  now  again,  so  much  mistaken,  more 
especially  in  their  theological  relations.  In  fact,  it  s^cems  to  me,  that  your 
admissions  would,  if  adequately  developed,  result  in  establishing  tlie  very 
opinions  which  T  maintain,  and  which  you  so  earnestly  set  yourself  to- 
controvert. 

In  general,  I  do  not  think  that  you  have  taken  sufiiciently  into  account  the 
following  circumstances : 

1°,  That  the  Infinite  which  I  contemplate  is  considered  only  as  in  thouf/ht ; 
the  Infinite  beyond  thought  being,  it  may  be,  an  object  of  belief,  but  not  of 
knowledge.     This  consideration  obviates  many  of  your  objections. 

2°,  That  the  sphere  of  our  belief  is  much  more  extensive  than  the  spherp  of 
our  knowledge;  and,  therefore,  when  I  deny  that  the  Infinite  can  by  us  be 
known,  I  am  far  from  denying  that  by  us  it  is,  nmst,  and  ought  to  be,  believed. 
This  I  have  indeed  anxiously  evinced,  both  by  reasoning  and  authority. 
When,  therefore,  you  maintain,  that  in  denying  to  man  any  positive  cognizance 
of  the  Infinite,  I  virtually  extenuate  his  belief  in  the  infinitude  of  Deity,  I  must 
hold  you  to  be  wholly  wrong,  in  respect  both  of  my  opinion,  and  of  the  theo- 
logical dogma  itself 

Assuredly,  I  maintain  that  an  infinite  God  cannot  be  by  us  (positively)  com- 
prehended. But  the  Scriptures,  and  all  theologians  worthy  of  the  name,  assert 
the  same.  Some  indeed  of  the  latter,  and,  among  them,  some  of  the  most  illus- 
trious Fathers,  go  the  length  of  asserting,  that  "  an  understood  God  Is  no  (rod 
at  all,"  and  that,  "  if  we  maintain  God  to  be  as  we  can  think  that  he  is,  we  blas- 
pheme." Hence  the  assertion  of  Augustin  ;•"  Deum  potius  ignorantia  (juani 
scientia  attingi." 

I  Cf.  Discussions,  p.  12  et  seq.  — Ed. 


APPENDIX.  '685 

S',  That  there  is  a  fundamental  (lifrereiice  between  The  Infinite  (rh-Zv  koI 
Jlap,)  and  a  relation  to  which  we  may  apply  the  term  infinite.  Thus,  Time  and 
Space  must  be  excluded  from  the  supposed  notion  of  The  Infinite ;  for  Tlie 
Infinite,  if  postively  thought  it  could  be,  must  be  thought  as  under  neither 
Spaei'  nor  Time. 

But  1  would  remark  specially  on  some  essential  points  of  vour  doctrine ; 
and  these  I  shall  take  up  witliout  order,  as  they  present  themselves  to  mj 
recollection. 

You  maintain  (pa.<isim)  that  thought,  conceptioTi,  knowledge,  is  and  must  be 
finite,  whilst  the  object  of  thong/il^  etc.,  may  be  infinite.  This  ajjpcars  to  me  to 
be  erroneous,  and  even  contradictory.  An  existence  can  only  l)e  an  object  of 
thought,  conception,  knowledge,  inasmuch  as  it  is  an  object  thought,  conceived, 
known ;  as  .such  only  does  it  form  a  constituent  of  the  ciix-le  of  thought,  con- 
ception, knowledge.  A  thing  may  be  partly  known,  conceived,  thought,  partly 
unknown,  etc.  But  that  part  of  it  only  which  is  thought,  can  be  an  object  of 
thought,  etc. ;  whereas  the  part  oi'it  not  tiiought,  etc.,  is,  as  far  as  thought,  etc., 
is  concerned,  only  tantamount  to  zero  Tiie  infinite,  therefore,  in  this  point  of 
view,  can  be  no  object  of  thought,  efc. ;  for  nothing  can  be  more  self-repugnant 
than  the  assertion,  tb.jit  we  know  the  infinite  through  a  finite  notion,  or  have  a 
finite  knowledge  of  an  infinite  object  of  knowledge. 

But  you  assert  (passim)  that  we  have  a  knowledge,  a  notion  of  the  infinite; 
at  the  same  time  assertiug  (passim)  that  this  knowledge  or  notion  is  "  inad- 
'ecjuate,"  —  "partial,"  —  "imperfect," — "limited,"  —  "not  in  all  its  extent,"  — 
"incomplete,"  —  "  onlj'  to  some  extent,"  —  "in  a  certain  sense,"  —  "indis- 
tinct," etc.,  etc. 

Now,  in  the  first  place,  this  assertion  is  in  contradiction  of  what  you  also 
maintain,  that  "  the  infinite  is  one  and  indivisible  "  (pp.  25,  26,  226)  ;  that  is 
that  having  no  parts,  it  cannot  be  paiiialh/  known.  But,  in  the  second  place, 
this  also  subverts  the  possibility  of  conceiving,  of  knowing,  the  Infinite;  for  as 
partial,  inadequate,  not  in  all  its  extent,  etc.,  our  coiiccjttion  includes  some  part 
only  of  the  object  supposed  infinite,  and  does  not  incltn/e  the  rest.  Our  knowl- 
edge is,  therefore,  by  your  own  account,  limited  and  finite ;  consecjuently,  you 
implicitly  admit  that  we  have  no  knowledge,  at  least  no  positive  knowledge,  of 
the  infinite. 

Neither  can  I  surmise  how  we  should  ever  come  to  know  that  the  object  thus 
partially  conceived  is  i,^  itself  infinite ;  seeing  that  we  are  denied  the  i)ower  of 
knowing  it  as  infinite,  thai,  is,  not  partially,  not  inadequately,  not  in  some  parts 
only  of  its  extent,  etc.,  but  totally,  a<lc(|uately,  in  its  whole  extent,  etc. :  in 
other  words,  under  the  criteria  c()nipatil)le  witii  tiie  su]iposition  of  infinitude. 
For,  as  von  trulv  ol)serve,  "  evervthing  short  of  the  infinite  is  limited" 
(p.  223). 

Again,  a*  stated,  yoti  descril)c  the  infinite  to  l)e  "one  and  indivisible."  But 
to  conceive  as  insepai'able  into  parts,  an  entity  which,  not  excluiiing,  in  tart 
includes,  the  worlds  of  mind  and  matter,  is  for  the  human  intellect  utterly 
improbable.  And  does  not  the  infinite  contain  the  finite  V  If  it  docs,  then  it 
contains  what  has  parts,  and  is  divisi])le ;  if  it  does  not,  then  is  it  exclusive  :  fh'- 
finite  is  out  of  the  infinite  :  and  tlie  ii\tinifc  is  conditioned,  limited,  restricted,— 
finite- 


686 


APPENDIX. 


You  controvert  (p.  233,  alibi)  my  assertion,  that  to  conceive  a  thing  in  rela- 
tion, is,  ipM  facto,  to  conceive  it  as  finite,  and  you  maintain  that  the  relative  is 
not  incompatible  with  infinity,  unless  it  be  also  restrictive.  But  restrictive  I 
hold  the  relative  always  to  be,  and,  therefore,  incompatible  with  The  Injinite 
in  the  more  proper  signification  of  the  term,  though  infinity,  in  a  looser  signifi- 
cation, may  be  applied  to  it.  My  reasons  for  this  are  the  following:  A  relation 
is  always  a  particular  point  of  view ;  consequently,  the  things  thought  as  rel- 
ative and  correlative  are  always  thought  restrictively,  in  so  far  as  the  thought 
of  the  one  discriminates  and  excludes  the  other,  and  likewise  all  things  not 
conceived  in  the  same  special  or  relative  point  of  view.  Thus,  if  we  think  of 
Socrates  and  Xanthippe  under  the  matrimonial  relation,  not  only  dfi  the 
thoughts  of  Socrates  and  Xanthippe  exclude  each  other  as  separate  existences, 
and,  pro  ianto,  therefore  are  restrictive ;  but  thinking  of  Socrates  as  husband, 
this  excludes  our  conception  of  him  as  citizen,  etc.,  etc.  Or,  to  take  an  ex- 
ample from  higher  relatives :  what  is  thought  as  the  object  excludes  what  is 
viewed  as  the  subject,  of  thought;  and  hence  the  necessity  which  compelled 
Schelling  and  other  absolutists  to  place  llie  Absolute  in  the  indifference  of  sub- 
ject and  object,  of  knowledge  and  existence.  Again :  we  conceive  God  in 
the  relation  of  Creator,  and  in  so  far  as  we  merely  conceive  Him  as  Creator,  we 
do  not  conceive  him  as  unconditioned,  as  infinite  ;  for  there  are  many  other  rela- 
tions of  the  Deity  under  which  we  may  conceive  Him,  but  which  are  not 
included  in  the  relation  of  Creator.  In  so  far,  therefore,  as  we  conceive  God 
only  in  this  relation,  our  conception  of  Him  is  manifestly  restrictive.  Further, 
the  created  universe  is,  and  you  assert  it  to  be  (pp.  175,  180,  229),  finite. 
The  creation  is,  therefore,  an  act,  of  however  great,  of  finite  power ;  and  the 
Creator  is  thus  thought  only  in  a  finite  capatdty.  God,  in  his  own  nature,  is 
infinite ;  but  we  do  not  positively  think  Him  as  infinite,  in  thinking  Him  under 
the  relation  of  the  Creator  of  a  finite  creation.  Finally,  let  us  suppose  the 
created  universe  (which  you  do  not)  to  be  infinite ;  in  that  case  we  should  be 
reduced  to  the  dilemma  of  asserting  two  infinities,  which  is  contradictory,  or  of 
asserting  the  supernal  absurdity,  that  God  the  Creator  is  finite,  and  the  uni- 
verse created  by  Him  is  infinite. 

In  connection  with  this,  you  expressly  deny  Space  and  Time  to  be  restric- 
tions, whilst  yon  admit  them  to  be  necessary  conditions  of  thought  (p.  10.3 — 
117).     I  hold  them  both  to  be  restrictive. 

In  the  first  place,  take  Space,  or  Extension.  Now  what  is  conceived  as 
extended,  does  it  not  exclude  the  unextended  ?  Does  it  not  include  body,  to 
the  exclusion  of  mind  ?     Pro  tanto,  therefore,  space  is  a  limitation,  a  restriction. 

In  the  same  way  Time,  —  is  it  not  restrictive  in  excluding  the  Deity,  who 
must  be  held  to  exist  above  or  beyond  the  condition  of  time  or  succession  ? 
This,  His  existence,  we  must  believe  as  real,  though  we  cannot  positively  think, 
conceive,  understand  its  possibility.  Time,  like  Space,  thus  involving  limi- 
tation, both  must  be  excluded,  as  has  been  done  by  Schelling,  from  the  sphere, — 
from  the  supposed  notion  of  the  infinito-absolute,  — 

"  Whose  kingdom  is  where  Time  and  Space  are  not." 


You  ask,  if  we  had  not  a  positive  notion  of  the  thing,  how  such  a  name  as 


APPENDIX.         ,  Of^i 

Injinlte  could  be  introfluced  Into  language  (p.  .")S).  The  answer  to  this  is  easy. 
In  the  first  place,  the  word  Infinite  (injinilmn,  &ir€ipoi')  is  negative,  expressing 
the  negation  of  Limits ;  and  I  believe  that  this  its  negative  character  holds  ^ood 
in  all  languages.  In  the  second  place,  the  question  is  idle ;  tor  we  have  many 
words  which,  more  directly  and  obtrusively  expressing  a  negation  of  thought, 
are  extant  In  every  language,  as  incor/Uahle,  ttnt/iinkahle,  incottipreltf:nsihle\  in- 
conceivable, tmiinof/inahle,  nonsense,  etc.,  etc. ;  w-hilst  the  term  injini/e  directly 
denotes  only  the  negation  of  limits,  and  only  indirectly  a  negation  of  thought. 

I  may  here  notice  what  you  animadvert  on  (p.  60,  76),  the  application  of 
the  term  notion,  etc.,  to  what  cannot  be  positively  conceived.  At  best  this  is 
merely  a  verbal  objection  against  an  abuse  of  language ;  but  I  hardly  think  it 
valid.  The  term  notion  can,  I  think,  be  not  improperly  applied  to  what  we  are 
unable  positively  to  construe  in  thought,  and  which  we  undenstand  only  by  a 
problematic  sn[)posItion.  A  round  s(jHare  cannot  certalnlj-  be  represented; 
but,  understanding  what  is  hypothetically  rerjuired.  the  union  of  the  attribute 
round  with  the  attribute  s/fuare,  I  may  surely  say,  ''  the  notion  round-stjuare  is 
»  representative  impossibility." 

You  misrepresent,  in  truth  reverse,  my  doctrine,  in  saying  (p.  169)  that  I 
hold  "  God  co/i»o<  act  as  a  cause,  for  the  unconditioned  cannot  exist  in  rela- 
tion." I  never  denied,  or  dreamed  of  denying,  that  the  Deity,  though  Infinite, 
though  unconditioned,  could  act  in  a  finite  relation.  I  only  denied.  In  oppo- 
sition to  Cousin,  that  so  He  7nust.  True  it  is,  indeed,  that  in  thinking  God 
under  relation,  we  do  not  then  think  Him,  even  negatively,  as  infinite ;  and  in 
general,  whilst  always  believing  Ilim  to  be  Infinite,  we  are  over  unable  to  con- 
strue to  our  minds,  —  positively  to  conceive,  —  Ills  attribute  itself  of  infinity. 
This  is  "  unsearchable."  This  is  "  past  finding  out."  What  I  have  said  as  to 
the  infinite  being  (subjectively)  inconceivable,  does  not  at  all  derogate  from 
our  belief  of  its  (objective)  reality.  In  fact,  the  main  scope  of  my  speculation 
is  to  show  articulately  that  we  must  believe,  as  actual,  much  that  we  are  unable 
(positively)  to  conceive,  as  even  possible. 

I  should  have  wished  to  make  some  special  observations  on  your  seventh 
chapter,  in  relation  to  Causality;  for  I  think  your  objections  to  my  theory  of 
causation  might  be  easily  obviated.  Assuredly  that  thiory  applies  equally  to 
mind  and  matter.  These,  however,  I  nuist  omit.  But  what  can  be  more  <-on- 
tradictory  than  your  a.ssertion  "that  creation  is  conceived,  and  is  by  us  con- 
ceivable, only  as  t/ie  oritjin  of  existence,  by  the  fiat  of  the  Deity?"  (p.  \i)&.) 
Was  the  Jieiti/  not  existent  before  the  creation  ?  or  did  the  non-existent  Deity  at 
the  creation  oritjinate  existence  f  I  do  not  dream  of  imj)uting  to  you  such 
absurdities.  Hut  you  must  e.xcuse  me  in  saying,  that  there  is  infinitely  lew 
ground  to  wrest  my  language  (as  you  seem  to  do)  to  the  assertion  of  a  material 
Pantheism,  than  to  suppose  you  guilty  of  them. 

Before  concluding,  I  may  notice  your  denial  (p.  10J<)  of  my  statement,  that 
time  present  is  conct'ival)le  only  as  a  line  in  which  the  past  and  future  limit 
each  other.  As  a  position  of  time  (time  is  a  prolensive  quantity),  the  present, 
if  positively  conceived,  must  have  a  certain  duration,  and  that  duration  can  be 
mea-sured  and  slated.  Now,  does  the  present  endure  tor  an  hour,  a  niinnfe.  a 
second,  or  for  any  part  of  a  second  ?  If  you  state  what  length  of  iluration  it 
contains,  you  are  lost.     So  true  is  the  observation  of  St.  Augustln. 


688 


A  P  !•  E  X  D  I  X  . 


These  are  but  a  few  specimens  of  the  mode  in  which  I  think  your  objections 
to  my  theory  of  tlie  infinite  may  be  met.  But,  however  scanty  and  imperfect, 
\  have  tired  myself  in  their  dictation,  and  must,  therefore,  now  leave  them, 
without  addition  or  improvement,  to  your  candid  consideration.  —  Believe  me, 
my  dear  sir,  very  truly  yours, 

(Signed)  W.  HAMILTON. 


(e.)     Doctrine   of   Relation. 

(Written  in  connection  ^vith  proposed  Memoir  of  Mr.  Stewart. 
1856;  written  Autumn  1855. — Ed.) 


On  Desk,  May 


I.  Every  Relation  (^Quod  esse  habet  ad  aliud,  —  unius  accidens,  —  ax^ffis, — 
respectwum,  —  ad  aliquid,  —  ad  aliud,  —  relatum, — comparatum,  —  sociale)  sup- 
poses at  least  two  things,  or,  as  they  are  called,  terms  thought  as  relative ;  that 
is,  thought  to  exist  only  as  thoutrbt  to  exist  in  reference  to  each  other:  in  other 
words,  Relatives  (to  Trpc^s  rt  (tx«o'(»' ex^^To,  —  relaliva  sunt,  quorum  esse  est  ad 
txliud)  are,  from  the  very  notion  pf  relativity,  necessarily  plural.  Hence  Aris- 
totle's definition  is  not  of  Relation,  but  of  things  relative.  Indeed,  a  relation 
of  one  term, -^  a  relative  not  referred,  —  not  related  (irpoi  n  oh  wp6s  n),  is  an 
overt  contradiction,  —  a  proclaimed  absurdity.  The  Absolute  (the  one,  the 
not-relative,  —  not-plural)  is  diametrically  opposed  to  the  relative,  —  these 
mutual  negatives. 

II.  A  relation  is  a  unifying  act,  —  a  synthesis ;  but  it  is  likewise  an  antithesis. 
For  even  when  it  results  in  denoting  agreement,  it  necessarily  proceeds  through 
a  thought  of  difference ;  and  thus  relatives,  however  they  may  in  reality  coin- 
cide, are  always  mentally  contrasted.  If  it  be  allowed,  even  the  relation  of 
identity,  —  of  the  sameness  of  a  thing  to  itself,  in  the  formula  A=A,  involves 
the  discrimination  and  opposition  of  the  two  terms.  Accordingly,  in  the  pro- 
cess of  a  relation,  there  is  no  conjunction  of  a  plurality  in  the  unity  of  a  single 
notion,  as  in  a  process  of  generalization ;  for  in  the  relation  there  is  always  a 
division,  always  an  antithesis  of  the  several  connected  and  constituent  notions. 

III.  Thus  relatives  are  severally  discriminated ;  inasmuch  as  the  one  is  spe- 
cially ivkat  is  referred,  the  other  specially  ivhat  is  referred  to.  The  former, 
opening  the  relation,  retains  the  generic  name  of  the  Relative  (and  is  sometimes 
called  exclusively  the  Subject)  ;  whilst  the  latter,  closing  it,  is  denominated  the 
Correlative  (and  to  this  the  word  Term  is  not  unfnnjuently  resti-icted).  Ac- 
cordingly, even  the  relation  of  the  thing  to  itself  in  the  affirmation  of  identity, 
distinguishes  a  Relative  and  a  Correlative.  Thus  in  the  judgment,  "  God  is 
just,"  God  is  first  posited  as  subject  and  Relative,  and  then  enounced  as  pre- 
dicate and  Correlative. 

IV.  The  Relative  and  the  Correlative  are  mutually  referred,  and  can  always 
be  reciprocated  or  converted  (-n-pjis  avriaTpi^ovra  Xeyecrbai,  reciproce,  ad  conver- 
tentiam  did)  ;  that  is,  we  can  view  in  thought  the  Relative  as  the  Correlative, 
and  the  Coi relative  as  the  Relative.  Thus,  if  >,e  think  the  Father  as  the  Rel- 
ative of  the  Son  as  Correlative,  we  can  also  *hlnk  the  Son  as  Relative  of  the 
Father  as  Correlative.  Rut,  In  point  of  fact.  I'^ere  are  here  always,  more  or 
less  obtrusive,  t\70  different,  though  not  independent,  relations :  for  the  relation, 


APPENDIX.  689 

in  which  the  Father  is  relative  and  the  Son  correlative,  is  that  of  Paternity; 
while  the  relation,  in  which  the  Son  is  relative  and  the  Father  correlative,  is 
that  of  Filiation  ;  relations,  however,  which  mutually  imply  each  other.  Thjis, 
also.  Cause  and  Effect  may  be  either  Relative  or  Correlative.  But  where 
Cause  is  made  the  llelative,  the  relation  is  properly  styled  Carnation  ;  whereas 
we  ought  to  denominate  it  Ejf'ectuatlnn,  when  the  Effect  becomes  the  relative 
term.  To  speak  of  the  relation  of  Knowledge  ;  we  have  here  Subject  and  Ol> 
ject,  either  of  which  we  may  consider  as  the  Relative  or  as  the  Correlative. 
But,  in  rigid  accuracy,  under  Knowledge,  we  ought  to  distinguish  two  recijjrocal 
relations,  —  the  relation  of  knowiuy,  and  the  relation  of  hehxj  knovit.  In  the 
former,  the  Subject  (that  known  as  knowiuf/')  is  the  Relative,  the  Object  (that 
knoirn  rw  bein(/  knofcn)  is  the  Correlative ;  in  the  latter,  the  terms  are  just 
reversed. 

V.  The  Relatives  (the  things  relative  and  correlative),  as  relative,  always 
<;oexist  in  nature  (a/xa  rfj  (pi'ff(i),  and  coexist  in  thought  {d/xa  rfj  yvwati).  To 
speak  now  only  of  tiie  latter  simultaneity;  —  we  cannot  conceive,  we  cannot 
know,  we  cannot  defme  the  one  relative,  without,  pro  tanto,  conceiving,  know- 
ing, defining  also  the  other.  Relative  and  Correlative  are  each  thought 
through  the  otiier ;  so  that  in  enouncing  Relativity  as  a  condition  of  the 
thinkable,  in  other  words,  that  thought  is  only  of  the  Relative  ;  this  is  tanta- 
mount to  saying  that  we  think  one  thing  only  as  we  think  two  things  mutually 
and  at  once ;  which  again  is  e(juivalent  to  a  declaration  that  the  Absolute  (the 
non-Relative)  is  for  us  incogitable,  and  even  incognizable. 

In  these  conditions  of  Relativity,  all  philosophers  are  at  one ;  so  far  there  Is 
among  them  no  difference  or  dispute. 

Note.  —  No  part  of  philosophy  has  been  more  fully  and  more  accurately 
developed,  or  rather  no  part  of  philosophy  is  more  determinately  certain  than 
the  .doctrine  of  Relation;  insomuch  that  in  this,  so  far  as  we  are  concerned, 
there  is  no  discrepancy  of  opinion  among  philosophers.  The  only  variation 
among  them  is  nicrcly  verbal :  sonic  giving  a  more  or  less  extensive  meaning 
to  the  words  employed  in  the  nomenclature.  For  whilst  all  agree  in  calling 
by  the  generic  name  of  relative  both  what  are  specially  denominated  the  Rel- 
ative and  the  Correlative;  some  limit  the  expression  Term  Qenninus),  to  the 
latter,  and  others  the  expression,  Subject  (subjectuni)  to  the  former;  whilst  the 
greater  number  of  recent  ])hilosophers  (and  these  I  follow)  apply  these  expres- 
sions indilTereutlv  to  both  Relative  and  Correlative. 


VI.     CAUSATION.  — LIBERTY   AND   NECESSITY. 

(See  p.  558.) 
(o.)     Causation. 

/Written  in  connection  witli  j)r<>|)o-;ccl   Mi;m<iiu  of  Mu.  Sfk-waut.     On  Desk,  May 
!85ti;  written  Autumn  isr)5. —  Ki>.) 

My  doctrine  of  Causality  is  accused  of  neglecting  the  phenomenon  of  rhantic, 
and  of  ignoring  the  attribute  of  power.     This  objection  precisely  reverses  the 

•87 


690  APPENDIX. 

fact.  Causation  is  by  me  proclaimed  to  be  identical  with  change,  —  change  of 
power  into  act  ("omnia  mutantur  ")  ;  change,  however,  only  of  appearance,  — 
we  being  unable  to  realize  in  thought  either  existence  (substance)  apart  from 
phaenomena,  or  existence  absolutely  commencing,  or  absolutely  terminating. 
And  specially  as  to  power ;  power  is  the  property  of  an  existent  something  (for 
it  is  thought  only  as  the  essential  attribute  of  what  is  able  so  or  so  to  exist)  ; 
power  is,  consequently,  the  correlative  of  existence,  and  a  necessary  supposi- 
tion, in  this  theory,  of  causation.  Here  the  cause,  or  rather  the  complement  of 
causes,  is  nothing  hut  powers  capable  of  producing  the  effect;  and  the  effect  is 
only  that  now  existing  actually,  which  previously  existed  potentially,  or  in  the 
causes.  We  must,  in  truth,  define :  —  a  cause,  the  power  of  effectuating  a 
change ;  and  an  effect,  a  change  actually  caused.     Let  us  make  the  experiment. 

And,  first,  of  Causation  at  its  highest  extremity :  Try  to  think  creation. 
Now,  all  that  we  can  here  do  is  to  think  the  existence  of  a  creative  power,  —  a 
Fiat;  which  creation  (unextended  or  mental,  extended  or  material)  must  be 
thought  by  us  as  the  evolution,  the  incomprehensible  evolution,  by  the  exertion 
or  putting  forth  of  God's  attribute  of  productive  power,  into  energy.  This  Di- 
vine power  must  always  be  supposed  as  preexistent.  Creation  excludes  the 
commencement  of  being:  for  it  implies  creative  God  as  prior;  and  the  exist- 
ence of  God  is  the  negation  of  nonentity.^  We  cannot,  indeed,  compass  the 
thought  of  what  has  no  commencement ;  we  cannot,  therefore,  positively  con- 
ceive (what,  however,  we  firmly  believe)  the  eternity  of  a  Self-existent,  —  of 
God :  but  still  less  can  we  think,  or  tolerate  the  supposition,  of  something 
springing  out  of  nothing,  —  of  an  absolute  commencement  of  being. 

Again,  to  think  Causation  at  its  lowest  extremity:  As  it  is  with  Creation,  so 
is  it  with  Annihilation.  The  thought  of  both  supposes  a  Deity  and  Divine 
power ;  for  as  the  one  is  only  the  creative  power  of  God  exerted  or  put  forth 
into  act,  so  the  other  is  only  the  withdrawal  of  that  exerted  energy  into  po\ver. 
We  are  able  to  think  no  complete  annihilation,  —  no  absolute  ending  of  exist- 
ence ("  omnia  mutantur,  nihil  interit ")  ;  as  we  cannot  think  a  creation  from 
nothing,  in  the  sense  of  an  origination  of  being  without  a  previously  existing 
Creator,  —  a  prior  creative  power.  Causation  is,  therefore,  necessarily  v:ifhin 
existence ;  for  we  cannot  think  of  a  change  either  from  non-existence  to  exist- 
ence, or  from  existence  to  non-existence.  The  thought  of  power,  therefbit;, 
always  precedes  that  of  creation,  and  follows  that  of  annihilation ;  and  as  the 
thought  of  power  always  involves  the  thought  of  existence,  therefore,  in  so  far 
as  the  thoughts  of  creation  and  annihilation  go,  the  necessity  of  thinking  a 
cause  for  these  changes  exemplifies  the  facts,  —  that  change  is  only  from  one 
form  of  existence  to  another,  and  that  causation  is  simply  our  inability  to  think 
an  absolute  commencement  or  an  absolute  termination  of  being.  The  sum  of 
being  (actual  and  potential)  now  extant  in  the  mental  and  material  worlds, 
together  with  that  in  their  Creator,  and  the  sum  of  being  (actual  and  potential) 
in  the  Creator  alone,  before  and  after  these  worlds  existed,  is  necessarily 

1  I  have  seen  an  attempt  at  the  correction  stultitied  by  self-contradiction ;  or  existence  is 

of  my  theory  of  creation,  in  which  the  Deity  created  by  a  non-existent  God,  —  an  alterna- 

is  made  to  originate  or  create  existence.  That  tive,  if  deliberately  held,  at  once  abaurd  and 

is,  either  existence  is  created   by  an  existent  impious. 
Gqd,  on  which  alternative  the  definition  is 


APPENDIX.  691 

thought  as  precisely  the  same.  Take  the  instance  of  a  neutral  salt.  This  is  an 
effiect,  the  product  of  various  causes,  —  and  all  are  necessarily  powers.  We 
have  here,  1°.  An  acid  involving  its  power  (active  or  passive)  of  combining 
with  the  alkali ;  2°,  An  alkali,  involving  its  power  (active  or  passive)  of  com- 
bining with  the  acid ;  3°  (Since,  as  the  chemical  brocard  has  it,  "  corpora  non 
agunt  nisi  soluta"),  a  fluid,  say  water,  with  its  power  of  dissolving  and  holding 
in  solution  the  acid  and  alkali ;  4°,  a  translative  power,  say  the  human  hand, 
capable  of  bringing  the  acid,  the  alkali,  and  the  water,  into  correlation,  or 
within  the  sphere  of  mutual  aflinitj'.  These  (and  they  might  be  subdivided) 
are  all  causes  of  the  ofTect ;  for,  abstract  any  one,  and  the  salt  is  not  produced. 
It  wants  a  coefficient  cause,  and  the  concurrence  of  every  cause  is  requisite  for 
an  effect^ 

But  all  the  causes  or  coefficient  powers  being  brought  into  reciprocal  rela- 
tion, the  salt  is  the  result;  for  an  effiiict  is  nothing  but  the  actual  union  of  its 
constituent  entities,  — concauses  or  coefficient  powers.  In  thought,  causes  and 
effects  are  thus,  pro  tanto,  tautological :  an  effect  always  preexisted  potentially 
in  its  causes;  and  causes  always  continue  actually  to  e.xist  in  their  effects. 
There  is  a  change  of  form,  but  we  are  compelled  to  think  an  identity  in  tne 
elements  of  existence : 

"Omnia  mutantur;  nihil  interit." 

And  we  might  add,  —  "Nihil  incipit;"  for  a  creative  power  must  jdways  be 
conceived  as  preexistent. 

Mutation,  Causation,  Effectuation,  are  only  the  same  thought  in  different 
respects;  they  may,  therefore,  be  regarded  as  virtually  terms  convertible. 
Every  change  is  an  effect;  every  effect  is  a  change.  An  effect  is  in  truth  just 
a  change  of  power  into  act ;  every  effect  being  an  actualization  of  the  poten- 
tial. 

But  what  is  now  considered  as  the  cause  may  at  another  time  be  viewed  as 
the  effect;  and  vice  versa.  Thus,  we  can  extract  the  acid  or  the  alkali,  as 
effect,  out  of  the  salt,  as  principal  concause ;  and  the  s(|uare  which,  as  effect,  is 
made  up  of  two  triangles  in  conjunction,  may  be  viewed  as  cause  wiien  cut 
into  these  figures.  In  opposite  views,  Addition  .and  Multiplication,  Subtraction 
and  Division,  may  be  regarded  as  causes,  or  as  effects. 

Power  is  an  attribute  or  property  of  existence,  btit  not  coextensive  with  it : 
for  we  may  suppose  (negatively  think)  things  to  exist  which  have  no  capacity 
of  change,  no  capacity  of  appearing. 

Creation  is  the  existing  sul)sc(pH'ntly  in  act  of  what  previously  existed  in 
j)Ower;  annihilation,  on  the  coutrary,  is  the  subsequent  existence  in  power  of 
what  previously  existed  in  act. 

Except  tlie  first  and  last  causal  agencies  (and  tlicsc,  as  Divine  ojicrations, 
are  by  us  incomprehensible),  every  other  is  conceived  also  as  an  effect  ;  there- 
fore, every  event  is,  in  dillcrcnt  relations,  a  power  and  an  act.     Considered  as 

I  See  above,  k-ct.  iii.  j:  42. —  Ea 


692  APPENDIX. 

a  cause,  it  is  a  power,  —  a  power  to  cooperate  an  effect.     Considered  as  an 
effect,  it  is  an  act,  —  an  act  cooperated  by  causes. 

Chanire  (cause  and  effect)  must  be  ivithin  existence ;  it  must  be  merely  of 
phtenomenal  existence.  Since  change  can  be  for  us  only  as  it  appears  to  us, 
—  only  as  it  is  known  by  us ;  and  we  cannot  know,  we  cannot  even  think  a 
change  either  from  non-existence  to  existence,  or  from  existence  to  non-exist- 
ence. The  change  must  be  from  substance  to  substance  ;  but  substances,  apar\ 
from  phenomena,  are  (positively)  inconceivable,  as  phaenomena  are  (positive^ 
ly)  inconceivable  apart  from  substances.  For  thought  requires  as  its  conditioi\ 
the  correlatives  both  of  au  appearing  and  of  something  that  appears. 

And  here  I  must  observe  that  we  are  unable  to  think  the  Divine  Attributei 
as  in  themselves  they  are,  we  cannot  think  God  without  impiety,  unless  we  also 
implicity  confess  our  impotence  to  think  Him  worthily ;  and  if  we  should  assert 
that  God  is  as  we  think  or  can  affirm  Him  to  be,  we  actually  blaspheme.  For 
the  Deity  is  adequately  inconceivable,  is  adequately  ineffable ;  since  human 
thought  and  human  language  are  equally  incompetent  to  His  Infinities. 


(6.)    The   Question  of   LiBteRxr  and   Necessity   as   Viewed  by  the 

Scottish  School. 

(Written  in  connection  with  proposed  Memoir  of   Mr.   Stewart.      On  Desk, 
May  1856;  written  Autumn  1855.  —  Ed.) 

The  Scottish  School  of  Philosophy  has  much  merit  in  regard  to  the  problem 
of  the  Morality  of  human  actions ;  but  its  success  in  the  polemic  which  it  has 
waged  in  this  respect,  consists  rather  in  having  intrenched  the  position  main- 
tained behind  the  common  sense  or  natural  convictions  of  mankind,  than  in 
having  rendered  the  problem  and  the  thesis  adopted  intelligible  to  the  philoso- 
pher. This,  indeed,  could  not  be  accomplished.  It  would,  therefore,  have 
been  better  to  show  articulately  that  Liberty  and  Necessity  are  both  incompre- 
hensible, as  both  beyond  the  limits  of  legitimate  thought ;  but  that  though  the 
Free-agency  of  Man  cannot  be  speculatively  proved,  so  neither  can  it  be  spec- 
ulatively disproved ;  while  we  may  claim  for  it  as  a  fad  of  real  actuality 
thou<T;h  of  inconceivable  possibility,  the  testimony  of  consciousness,  —  that  we 
are  morally  free,  as  we  are  morally  accountable  for  our  actions.  In  this  man- 
ner, the  whole  question  of  free  and  bond-will  is  in  theory  abolished,  leaving, 
however,  practically  our  Liberty,  and  all  the  moral  interests  of  man  entire. 

Mr.  Stewart  seems,  indeed,  disposed  to  acknowledge,  against  Reid,  that,  in 
certain  respects,  the  problem  is  beyond  the  capacity  of  human  thought,  and  to 
admit  that  all  reasoning  for,  as  all  reasoning  against,  our  liberty,  is  on  that 
account  invalid.  Thus  in  reference  to  the  arguments  against  human  free- 
agency,  drawn  from  the  prescience  of  the  Deity,  he  says,  "  In  reviewing  the 
arguments  that  have  been  advanced  on  the  opposite  sides  of  this  question,  I 
have  hitherto  taken  no  notice  of  those  whichthe  Necessitarians  have  founded 
on  the  prescience  of  the  Deity,  because  I  do  not  think  these  fairly  applicable 
to  the  subject ;  inasmuch  as  they  draw  an  inference  from  what  is  altogether 


APPENDIX.  tjyo 

placed  beyond  the  reach  of  our  faculties,  against  a  fact  for  which  every  man  has 
the  evidence  of  his  own  consciousness."^ 

(c.)    LlHERTY    AND    NECESSITY. 

(Written  in  connection  with  proposed  Memoir  of  Mr.  Stewart.     On  Desk.  May 
185G;  written  Autumn  183.").  —  Ed.) 

The  question  of  Liberty  and  Necessity  may  be  dealt  with  in  two  ways . 

I.  The  opposing  parties  may  endeavor  to  show  each  that  his  thesis  is  distinct, 
intelligible,  and  consistent,  whereas  that  the  anti-thesis  of  his  opponent  is  indis^ 
tinct,  unintelligible,  and  contradictory. 

II.  An  opposing  party  may  endeavor  to  show  that  the  thesis  of  either  side  is 
unthinkable,  and  thus  abolish  logically  the  whole  problem,  as,  on  both  alterna- 
tives, beyond  the  limits  of  human  thought ;  it  being,  however,  open  to  him  to 
argue  that,  though  unthinkable,  his  thesis  is  not  annihilated,  there  buing  con- 
tradictory opposites,  one  of  which  must  consequently  be  held  as  true,  though 
we  be  unable  to  think  the  possibility  of  either  opposite;  whilst  he  may  be  able 
to  appeal  to  a  diiect  or  indirect  declaration  of  our  conscious  nature  in  favor  of 
the  alternative  which  he  maintains. 

The  former  of  these  modes  of  arsruinj;  has  been  the  one  exclusivelv  em- 
ployed  in  this  controversy.  The  Libertarian,  indeed,  has  often  endeavored  to 
strengthen  his  position  by  calling  in  a  deliverance  of  consciousness ;  the  Neces- 
sitarian, on  the  contrary,  has  no  such  deliverance  to  appeal  to,  and  he  has  only 
attempted,  at  best,  to  deprive  his  adversary  of  this  ground  of  argumentation  by 
denying  the  fact  or  extenuating  the  authority  of  the  deliverance. 

The  latter  of  these  lines  of  argumentation,  I  may  also  observe,  wa*.  I  be- 
lieve, for  tlie  first  time  emoloyed,  or,  at  least,  for  the  first  time  legitimately, 
employed,  by  myself:  for  Kant  could  not  consistently  defer  to  the  authority  of 
Reason  in  its  practical  relations,  after  having  shown  that  Reason  in  its  specu- 
lative operations  resulteil  only  in  a  complexus  of  antilogies.  On  the  contrary, 
I  have  endeavored  to  show  that  Reason,  —  that  Consciousness  within  its  legit- 
imate limits,  is  always  veracious,  —  that  in  generating  its  antinomies.  Kant's 
Reason  transcended  its  limits,  violated  its  laws,  —  that  Consciousness,  in  fact, 
is  never  spontaneously  false,  and  that  Reason  is  only  self-contradiitory  when 
driven  beyond  its  legitimate  bounds.  We  are,  therefore,  warranted  to  rely  on 
a  deliverance  of  Consciousness,  when  that  deliverance  is  that  a  thing  is.  though 
we  may  be  unable  to  think  hoio  it  can  be. 

1  Active  and  Moral  Pou-rrf,  vol.  i.    XTorks,  vol.  VI.  p.  396. 


t 


I 


1:^"  r>  EX. 


Abel,  case  of  drenming  mentioned  by,  458. 
Abercrombie  (Dr    John),  referred    to    on 

somuambulism,  223;  on  cases  of  mental  la- 
tency, 23H. 
Abercromiiy,  513. 
Absoll'te.  distinctions  of  mode  of  reaching 

it,  683-4,  684-8      S'-k  Kegulativt-  Faculty. 
Abstraction,  se.e  Attention  and  Elaborative 

Faculty. 
Abstractivk  knowledge,  see  Knowledge. 
Academical      lionors.     principles      wliicb 

slionid   regulate,   635  et  seq. 
Accident,  what,  106. 
Act,  what,  124.     See  Energy. 
Active,  its  defects  as  a  philosopliical  term, 

79, 128. 
Activity,  always  conjoined  with  passivity  in 

creation,  216      See  Consciousness. 
Actual,  distinctions  of  from  potential,  124. 

See  Existence. 
Addison,  quoted  to  the  effect  that  the  mental 

faculties   air  not   independent   existences, 

268. 
iEscHTLUS,  quoted,  244 
JCcJiDlus,  292;  on  Touch,  .376. 
AciiirPA  (('(Miielius),  53 
Ajcr^ffjs,  iinibiguous,  562      See  Feeling. 
Akenside,  nuoted  on  Fear.  (507 
Alheutl's  Magnus,  176,  292;  on  Touch,  376- 

Al.CIIINDUS,  2!il. 

ALc.M-eo.N,  -352. 

.». LKNSifl,  or  Alcsius,  Alex.,  176,  292.  387. 

Al.E.VANDlUA,  .schtiol  of,  75. 

Alfa  i:  A  HI,  213. 

^L<;.\/,KL,  tii>l  exjilicilly  nniiiitained  the  hy- 
pothesis of  Assistance  ur  ()cca.sionul  Causes, 
210.  542;  his  surname,  542      Set  Causality. 

Alison,  Uev.  A  ,  noticed  on  A.SMiria'ion.  612. 

Ammomuh  Hermia',  referred  to  on  <lelinilion 
of  philosophy,  3li,  81;  <|Uoted  on  uientitl 
(lowers,  271;  quoted  on  itreadth  and  Depth 
of  notions,  472. 

Anai.vsih,  what,  69;  the  neces,sary  condition 
of  philosophy,  >b  ;  see  I'hilosophy  ,  relations 
of  analysis  aud  synthesis.  69,  70:  nature  of 


scientific,  70  eC  seq.;  three  rules  of  peycho 
logical,  282,  critical,  its  sphere,  4<t3,  sfe  Crit- 
ical Method;  in  extension  and  comprehen- 
sion, the  analysis  ol  the  one  corresponds  to 
the  synthesis  of  the  other,  510;  ccjiifusion 
among  pliilo,sopliers  from  not  having  ob- 
served this,  511;  synthesis  in  (jreek  logi- 
cians is  equivalent  to  analysis  of  modern 
pliilosoi)hers,  511;  Flatonic  doctrine  of  di- 
vision called  Analytical,  511. 

Analytic  judgment,  what,  6'il. 

Ana.mne.stic,  see  Mnemonic. 

Anaxagouas,  352. 

Ancillon  (Frederick),  50,  177,  26.3;  quoted 
on  dilliculty  of  psychological  study,  2t>), 
266,  428;  (pioted  on  IJeminiscence,  442; 
quoted  on  Imagination,  455;  on  the  same, 
457;  see  Kejiresentative  Faculty;  459-6C,  i?f 
ibid. 

Andre,  I'ire,  442;  bis  treatise  Sur  U  Beau. 
a)4. 

Annihilation,  as  conceived  by  us,  5-52 

Aphrodisiensi.s,  Alex.  81.  176;  quoted  on 
mental  powei-s,  271,  21tl ;  <|U0ted  on  Aristo- 
tle's doctrine  of  species,  2!t3;  on  Touch,  376; 
on  contrariety  and  simultaneity,  4.>l 

Apoi.linaris.  on  'foucli,  376. 

Appetency,  term  object ioinible  n.-  eouimon 
designation  both  of  will  and  desin-.  12S. 

AqriNAS.  '.),  43:  iniiintained  that  the  mind 
can  attend  to  only  a  single  object  at  once, 
176;  his  doctrine  of  mental  powers, 2?2, 292, 
316 

AKBfTHNOT,  quoted,  115. 

Auchimede.-j.  180. 

Aikjentinas,  292 

Aristotle,  9,  14,  26.  32;  quoted  on  detinition 
of  plilloso))hy.  !1'>,  37;  r»':'ern'<l  to  on  the 
same,  36,  45;  quoted  on  the  qutr.ftwn'f  >nhi- 
fe.',  39;  .<"  F.inpirical.  4<»;  quoted  on  the  cud 
of  |)hilosophy.  42.  45,  46,  iH,  49,  50,  53; 
ipioled  on  \Vond<>r  as  ii  cau.s<>  uf  philit!H>pliy 
55,  5!>,  iVS,  66.  75.  79,  83;  .«'»  Art;  made  th« 
consideration  of  the  soul  pari  of  the  pliil- 
<isopliy  of  nature.  HJ,  96,  98,   UU.  lli»;   di*- 


696 


INDEX. 


thiction  of  active  and  passive  power  fir<t 
foniially  etiounccd  by.  123;  his  distinction 
of  lialiit  and  disI)0^ition,  VH.  125;  <iuoted 
on  will  and  desire,  128;  liad  no  special  term 
tor  cnnsciousness,  136;  supposed  intellect  to 
be  cognizant  of  its  own  operations,  137;  bis 
doctrine  in  regard  to  self  apprehension  of 
sense,  l;38;  opposed  to  the  doctrine  that  the 
mind  cannot  exist  in  two  different  states  at 
the  same  moment,  174, 185;  whether  a  nat- 
ural realist,  2<)5.  212,  218,  262,  293;  on  rela- 
tion of  soul  to  body,  272,  356;  his  doctrine 
of  species,  division  of  opinions  regarding, 
291-2;  passages  quoted  from  iu  which  elSos 
and  Tviroi  occur,  292,  374;  problem  regard- 
ing plurality  of  senses  under  Touch  mooted 
by.  375,  412;  see  Conservative  Faculty;  427, 

■  lee  Reproductive  Faculty  ;  430,  see  ibid. , 
doubtful  whether  Aristotle  or  Homer  were 
possessed  of  the  more  powerful  imagination, 
454,  460,  463;  held  that  general  names  are 
only  abbreviated  definitions,  488,  500;  see 
Language;  his  definition  of  the  infinite,  531; 
held  that  sense  has  no  perception  of  the 
causal  nexus, -541,  573;  his  doctrine  of  the 
pleasurable,  585:  see  Feelings;  the  genuine- 
ness of  the  Magna  Moralia  and  Eudeinian 
Ethics  attributed  to,  questionable,  585. 

Aristotelians,  the,  their  doctrine  of  con- 
sciousness, 138;  certain  of,  first  held  con- 
sciousness to  be  a  special  faculty,  139;  held 
doctrine  of  Physical  influence,  212;  divided 
on  question  of  continual  energy  of  intellect, 
218;  doctrine  of  regarding  the  relation  of 
the  soul  to  the  body,  and  of  the  soul  to  the 
different- mental  powers.  272,  356;  certain 
of,  disavowed  the  doctrine  of  species,  291-2; 
their  division  of  the  mental  phenomena, 
560. 

Arnauld,  his  doctrine  of  Perception,  302; 
only  adopted  by  the  few,  312.  See  Percep- 
tion. 

Ariminetjsis,  see  Gregory  of  Rimini. 

Arriaga,48o. 

Association  of  Ideas,  what  in  general,  244: 
a  phasnomenon  of,  seemingly  anomalous, 
24'1,  264;  explained  by  principle  of  mental 
latency,  254,  255;  see  Reproductive  and  Rep- 
resentative Faculties;  as  a  general  cause 
which  contributes  to  raise  energy,  611;  see 
Feelings. 

Art  and  Science,  history  of  the  application 
of  the  terms,  81;  definition  of  Art  by  Aris- 
totle, 83. 

Arts,  Fine,  presuppose  a  knowledge  of  mind, 
44. 

Attentio>',  act  of  the  same  faculty  as  reflec- 
tion, 164;  not  a  faculty  different  from  con- 
sciousness, 164  et  seg.;  what,  16.'>;  as  a  gen- 
eral ph;enomenon  of  consciousne.ss.  165: 
whether  we  can  attend  to  more  than  a  sin- 
gle object  at  once,  165  ft  sft/..  I'Set  sf/. .  this 


question  canvassed  in  the  middle  ages.  176 
possible  without  an  act  of  tree  will,  171:  of 
three  degrees  or  kinds,  172;  nature  and  im- 
portance of,  ib. ;  the  que.stion  how  many 
objects  can  the  mind  attend  to  at  once  con- 
sidered. I'd  et  stq.;  how  answered  by  Bon- 
net, Tucker,  Destutt-Tracy.  Degerando.  and 
by  the  author,  177;  value  of  attention  con- 
sidered in  its  highest  degree  as  an  act  of 
will,  177;  instances  of  the  power  of,  179  et 
serj.  ;  Malebranche  (j noted  on  place  and  im- 
portance of,  181  ec  seq  ;  .'itewart  commended 
on.  182.     See  Conservative  Faculty. 

Attribute,  what,  106. 

Augustin,  St.,  his  analysis  of  pain.  49, 81,  98  j 
his  employment  of  consciiis,  and  cnnscieniia, 
1-36;  inclined  todoctiine  of  Pla.stic  Medium, 
213;  his  doctrine  of  matter.  (6. ;  quoted  on. 
our  ignorance  of  the  substance  of  mind 
and  body,  214:  on  continual  energy  of  in- 
tellect, 218;  ()U0ted  on  mental  powers.  270, 
292,  quoted  on  the  doctrine  that  the  .<oul  is 
all  in  the  whole  and  all  in  every  part.  856. 
387,  412:  .see  Conservative  Faculty;  430.  .«e« 
Reproductive  Faculty;  442,  .^ce  ibiri..  513. 
quoted  on  energetic  emotions,  608;  on  beau- 
ty, 625,  see  Feelings 

Avempace,  213. 

AvERROES.  46,  79;  held  God*  to  be  the  only 
real  agent  in  the  universe,  210;  on  Touch. 
376,  542. 

AvicEJfSA,  on  Touch,  376,  414. 

Bacon,  13,41,  .59,  aS,  67,  76;  his  division  of 
the  sciences  and  of  philosophy,  84.  99. 179. 
see  Attention,  376,  636. 

Balzac.  513. 

Barbevrac,  513. 

Batteux,  .594. 

Baujigauten.  first  to  apply  the  term  .Estketit 
to  the  jihilosophy  of  taste,  87;  attempted  to 
demonstrate  the  law  of  Stifticient  Rcasou 
from  that  of  Contradiction,  540. 

Bea.sley.  his  opinion  of  Reid's  pol.niic  on 
Perception.  298. 

Beattik,  92:  on  laws  of  Association.  430. 

Beauty,  set  Feelings. 

Belief  precedes  knowledge,  32. 

Bellovacensis.  Viucentius.  387. 

Beneke.  2.52,  465. 

Bei'.keley.  quoted  on  testimony  of  conscious- 
ness in  Perception,  201,  205;  his  Defence  of 
the  Tkrorij  of  Vision,  referred  to.  380.  see 
Sight;  quoted  on  Nominalism,  478  483. 

BERNARD0.S  (J.  Bap.).  290. 

Bertram),  quoted  on  Descartes'  doctri^je  of. 
pleasure.  .591. 

BlEDERMANX.  546. 

BlEL.^76,  272.  542. 

Bilfisger,  430;  see  Reproductive  Faculty 

474 
Bii'.NUK.  2G1 :  quoted  on  difficulty  of  pgychol 


I 


INDEX. 


'  U97 


ogical  study,  263,  265,  349;  quoted  565,569; 

i«e  Keeliiif;s. 
BOETHlus.  43,  99,  415. 
UOHN,  233. 

BONAVENTUKA,  292. 

BONNKT,  Cliarles,  176,  579. 

BONSTKTTKJf.  176. 

HoscoviCH,  683. 

BosTOcK,  Dr.,  liis  Plii/siohgy  referred  to,  373, 
661. 

BouiiDirns,  513. 

Bkain,  account  of  experiments  on  weight 
of,  by  tlic  author,  6o9-t30;  remarks  on  Dr. 
Morton'.s  tables  on  tlie  size  of,  660—662. 

Bkanhis,  32,  33,  36,  38,  40, 113. 

BaoDWl.'^SEKScuAKTEN,  the  Bread  and  I'.ut- 
tcr  Sciences,  ").  15. 

Uiiowji  (Bishop),  93;  liis  doctrine  of  Sub- 
stance, 108. 

Brown,  Dr.  Thomas,  92;  defines  conscious- 
ness by  feeliuf^,  128.  1.32;  erroneously  as- 
serts that  consciousiie.s.s  lias  gen»'rally  been 
classed  as  a  special  faculty,  144;  holds  that 
the  mind  cannot  e.xist  at  the  same  moment 
in  two  diflerent  states,  168,  173,  his  doctrine 
on  this  point  ciiticised,  175;  it  renders  com- 
pari.son  impossible,  175;  and  violat'j  tlie 
integrity  of  consciousness,  193,  195;  wrong 
in  asserting  that  philosopliers  in  general 
regard  the  mental  powers  as  distinct  and 
independent  existences,  268;  his  general  er- 
ror in  regard  to  Heid's  doctrine  of  I'ercep- 
tion,  288,  see  Perception;  liis  criticism  of 
Heid  on  theories  of  I'erception,  288  et  seij  , 
298;  his  errors  in  regard  to  Perception  vital, 
299;  coincides  with  Priestley  in  censuring 
J{eid's  view  of  Locke's  doctrine  ot  Percep- 
tion, 305;  his  interpretation  of  Locke's 
opinion  explicitly  contradicted  by  Locke 
himself,  ;)06-7;  adduces  Ilobbcs  as  an  in- 
stance of  Keijl's  historical  inaccuracy  in 
i-egard  to  theories  of  Perception,  308;  his 
single  argument  in  support  of  the  view 
that  Keid  was  a  Cosmothetic  Idealist  re- 
futed, 317  et  sff/. ;  adopted  division  of  senses 
corresponding  (<>  (he  Sn^iis  Viij^us  and  .SVh- 
iiix  Fi.riis  of  the  (lernum  philosophers,  377: 
controverted  opinion  that  extension  is  an 
object  of  .Sight,  3S0.  ;382  et  ser/. ;  on  laws  of 
Association,  430;  i|noled  on  Conceptualism, 
4S1,  see  Klaborative  Piieulty;  493,  see  Lan- 
guage; 534,  et  sn/.,  >ef  (iiusality. 

BituwNK, SirTlionnis,  i|Uolcd  lS,see  Mind, 513. 

Buiic-KKii,  51 

Buchanan  ((ieorge),  (|Uoted,  280. 

lU-in).EU8,  180. 

BiiKKiKll,  IV-re,  ri;,'hl  in  regard  to  degrees 
of  evidence  in  eonscioiisne.«s.  191 ;  distin- 
guished Peice  t  .11,  IVoni  .'-Sensation.  3^1-1. 

Bl'KFON.  17!t.  376 

BruATKl.l.lis,  (inbrie!,  i|UOt('d  nn  Platonic 
ductiine  of  vision,  29(J. 


BuuoKKPDVCK,  83,  507. 

BuKKE,  ijuoted  on  value  of  reflective  studies, 

10. 
Bdtler  (Bishop),  referred  to  on  our  mental 

identity,  260. 
BvKON,  quoted,  82. 

C^.SALPiNUS,  Andreas,  501. 

C.*.SAR1NU8,  Virgiuius,  quoted  on  Painful 
Atl'ections,  606. 

fA.JETAN.  176,  272,317. 

C'ALUEi:wooL),  Henry,  letter  of  author  to, 
684—688. 

Cami»anei.la, quoted  on  mental  powers, 271, 
496.  see  I.,aiiguage. 

(A.Mi'BELL,  I'rincipal,  92;  a  uomiualist,  476. 

(a.mi'Bell  (  fhoma-s),  quoted,  35. 

Cai'.\city,  origin  and  meaning  of,  123;   ap- 
[       propriately  applied  to  natural  capabilities, 
124;  distinguished  from  faculty,  269. 

Capreoi-us,  176,  272,  20.J. 

Cardaillac.  referred  to  on  doctrine  of 
mental  latency, '235,  251;  quoted  on  ditfi- 
culty  of  p.sychological  study,  2<)3,  265;. 
quoted,  444  et  seq.  See  Reproductive  Fac- 
ulty. 

(.'ARUAN,  180;  on  Touch,  376;  on  pleasure, 
589,  See  Feelings. 

Cauleton,  I'liomas  Compt.,  683. 

Carneaues.  180. 

Caiu'entkr  (Dr.),  referred  to  on  8omnambu> 
lism,  223. 

Cartesians,  the,  division  of  philosophy  by, 
84;  fully  evolved  the  hypothesis  of  assist- 
ance or  occasional  causes,  '209;  made  con- 
sciousness the  essence  of  thought,  251. 

Cari-S  (Fred.  Aug.),  '2.72,  429,  570,  see   Feel- 
'.      ings. 

Casaubon,  Isaac,  (juotijil  on  memory  of 
Joseph  Scaliger,  425. 

Capmann,  Otto,  his  u.-ie  of  the  term  pst/dtol' 
i       ogij,  95. 

:  Cacbalitt,  of  second  cau.scs  at  least  two 
liecessary  to  the  production  of  every  effect, 
408,  .554;  the  lirst  Cause  cannot  be  by  us 
api)reliended,  but  must  be  believed  in,4;i; 
the  law  of,  evolved  IVtiin  the  principle  of 
the  conditioned,  532  et  seq. ;  problem  of.  an<l 
attempts  at  solution,  532;  pha-noimMiou  of, 
what,  5.32  el  srq.  ,■  what  apiK'ars  to  us  to  be- 
gin to  Ix.'  is  necessarily  thou;;lit  by  us  as 
having  i)reviously  existed  under  another 
form,  533;  hence  an  absolute  tautology  be- 
tween the  effect  and  its  catises,  >>/.:  not 
neee.-sary  to  the  notion  of,  that  we  should 
know  tlu-  imitii-ular  causes  of  the  parliev.- 
lar  effect,  .>14  :  Itmwns  uccciui.t  otihe  phr.- 
nomenon  of,  b^A.  535;  Profc-isor  \Vils.)a 
quoted  on  Brown's  doctrine  of,  b9i;  fun. 
ilamen!al  I'.etect  in  Brown's  theory,  M!'; 
v'.i  f.-  ilicHiion  «»r  opinioim  on  the  nature  aud 
origin  <if  ll.e  prii.ei.li;  uJ,  ui^;  tlit->e  con- 
MS 


698 


INDEX. 


gidcred  in  detail,  539  et  seq.,  I.  Objectivo- 
Obj«ctive,539;  refuted  on  two  grounds,  540; 
tliut  we  liave  no  perception  of  cause  and 
cllect  in  tlie  external  world  maintained  by 
Hume,  541)  and  before  him  by  many  phi- 
losophers, 541 ;  among  whom  Algazel  prob- 
ably the  first,  ib. :  by  the  JIussulinan  Doc- 
tors, 542;  the  Schoolmen,  ib. :  Malel)ranche, 
ib.;  II.  Objcctivo-.Subjective,  maintained  by 
Locke,  542;  M.  de  Biran,  ib.;  shown  to  be 
untenable,  543;  111.  Objective  — Induction 
•or  Generalization,  544;  IV.  Subjective  — 
Association,  .544;  V.  A  Special  I'rinciple  of 
Intelligence,  545;  VI.  Expectation  of  the 
Constancy  of  Nature,  545;  fifth  opinion 
criticised,  546;  VII.  The  Principle  of  Non- 
Contradiction,  546;  VIII.  The  Law  of  the 
Conditioned,  547;  judgment  of  Causality, 
how  deduced  from  this  law,  548  et  seq. ;  ex- 
istence conditioned  in  time  affords  the  prin- 
ciple of,  548,549;  see  also  551  et  seq. :  that  the 
causal  judgment  is  elicited  only  by  objects 
in  uniform  succession  is  erroneous,  555;  the 
author's  doctrine  of,  to  be  preferred,  1°, 
from  its  simplicity,  555;  2°,  averting  skepti- 
cism, 556;  8°,  avoiding  the  alternatives  of 
fatalism  or  inconsistency,  556,  557;  advan- 
tages of  the  author's  doctrine  of,  further 
shown,  557;  defence  by  autlior  of  his  doc- 
trine of,  689. 

Cause,  sfe  Causality. 

Celsus,  39 

Cerebellum,  its  function  as  alleged  by  phre- 
nologists, 651;  its  true  function  as  ascer- 
tained by  the  author,  653. 

Chalcidius,  291. 

Cha>-et,  513. 

Chauleton,  513. 

Chap.uox,  62. 

Chance,  games  of,  617,  see  Feelings. 

Chauvin,  43,  474. 

Cheselden,  380,  see  Sight. 

CHE.STEltFlEl.u  (Lord),  179. 

Chevy  Chase,  ballad  of.  quoted,  564. 

CiCEP.o,  21;  on  tlie  assumption  of  the  term 
philosnpktj,  SS;  on  definition  of  philosophy, 
35;  referred  to  on  the  same,  37,  81, 114;  use 
of  the  term  Conscius,lS(i:  on  continual  en- 
ergy of  intellect,  218,  3.39,  349,  353,  414,  636, 
see  Conservative  Faculty;  quoted  in  illus- 
tration of  the  law  of  contiguity,  434,  460, 
513. 

Classification,  see  Elaborative  Faculty. 

Claubkrg,  64;  his  division  of  philosophy 
119. 

Clerc,  Dan.  le.  39. 

Clerc,  John  le,  held  Plastic  Medium,  208, 
214;  (juoted  on  perception,  309;  distin- 
guished Perception  from  Sensation,  334. 

Cle.mess  Alexandkinus,  referred  to  on 
definition  of  philosophy.  .35;  quoted,  46. 

CoGJilTlON,  one  grand  division  of  the  pha;- 


nomena  of  mind,  86,  .^ee  Knowledge;  thr 
use  of  the  term  vindicated,  277. 

Coleridge,  case  of  mental  latency  recordecj 
by,  239. 

Color,  see  Sight. 

CoJiPUEHENSlON  of  notious,  see  Elaborative 
Faculty. 

Co.Mi>;.EX  Notions,  see  Elaborative  Faculty. 

Common  Sense,  its  various  meanings,  512; 
authorities  for  use  of  as  equivalent  to  Nouy, 
513. 

Common  Sense,  see  Vital  Sense. 

(;oMMON  Sensory,  512. 

Combe  (George),  quoted  on  difference  of  de- 
velopment of  phrenological  organs,  665. 

Comparison,  see  Elaborative  Faculty. 

Conative,  used  by  Cudworth,  129.  See  Co- 
nation. 

Conation,  one  grand  division  of  the  pha>- 
nomena  of  mind,  56;  best  term  to  denote 
the  phenomena  both  of  Will  and  Desire, 
129;  determined  by  the  Feelings,  568;  essen- 
tial peculiarities  of,  571  et  seq. 

Conception,  used  by  Reid  and  Stewart  as 
synonymous  with  Imagination,  147;  mean- 
ing and  right  application  of  the  terra,  452. 
See  Representative  faculty. 

CoNCEPTUALis.M,  See  Elaborativft  Faculty, 

Condorcet,  497, 

Conditioned,  the,  549.  See  Regulative  Fac- 
ulty. 

CONDILLAC,  referred  to  on  definition  of  phi- 
losophy,  35;  quoted  on  love  of  unity  as  a 
source  of  error;  50,  51,  71.  99,  163,  235,  271; 
on  extension  as  object  of  sight,  379,  468, 
493,  see  Language. 

CONIMBRICENSES,  137,  272,  291,  414,  493,  see 
Language. 

Conscientia,  Conscius,  their  various  mean- 
ings, 136  et  si-q.     See  Consciousness. 

Conscious,  see  Subject  and  Consciousness. 

Consciousness,  what,  110, 133;  the  one  essen- 
tial element  of  the  mental  pha;nomena,  126: 
affords  three  grand  classes  of  phienomena 
—  those  of  Knowledge,  Feeling,  and  Cona- 
tion, 127  et  seq. ;  their  nomenclature,  127-8; 
this  threefold  distribution  of  the  phafuom- 
ena  of,  first  made  by  Kant,  129;  objection 
to  the  classification  obviated,  129,564;  the 
phenomena  of,  not  possible  independently 
of  each  other,  130,411;  order  of  the  three 
grand  classes  of  the  phienomena  of,  1.30-1; 
no  special  account  of,  by  Reid  or  Stewart, 
131 ;  cannot  be  defined,  132  et  seq. ;  admits  of 
philosophical  analysis,  132;  what  kind  of 
act  the  word  is  employed  to  denote,  and 
what  the  act  involves,  133  et  seq. ;  conscious- 
ness and  knowledge  involve  each  other,  1.33, 
tlie.se,  how  distinguished,  1.34;  history  of 
the  t*nn,  i;i5;  first  regularly  used  by  Des- 
cartes in  its  modern  sense,  136;  a  transla- 
tion o( con.tcientia,  ib.;  early  senses  ofcntisriiis 


r  X  D  E  X . 


699 


and  conseientta,  ib. ;  as  used  by  Au°;ustin,  ib  , 
as  used  by  Quiiitilian,  Cicero,  TertuUian, 
and  other  of  the  Latin  I'atliers,  ih.;  how  ex- 
pressed in  Latin,  French,  Italian,  and  Ger- 
man, ib  ;  no  term  for,  in  Oreelt  until  the 
dccliue    of  philosophy,    ib.;    terms    tanta- 
mount  to,  adopted    by   the    later   Platon- 
i.-ts   and  Aristotelians,  l.'JS;    the  most  gen- 
eral characteristic   of,    i;^;   sjx'cial  condi- 
tions oi^  ib ;  those  generally  admitted,  ib. 
etseq.;  implies,  1.  actual  knowledge,  (6.  ,•  2. 
immediate  knowledge,  ih. ;  3.  contrast,  140, 
141-    4.   judgment.    5li2;    5    memory.   141; 
»I)eeial  conditions  of,  not  generally  admit- 
ted.   143   et    ^e(j. ;    coextensive    with    our 
knowledge,  143  et  scg.;  a   special   faculty 
according  to  Keid  and  .Stewart.  144  ft  seq.  ; 
]{eid"s  limitation  of  the  sphere  of,  unten- 
able, 146  et  stq. ;  no  cousciousne.<s  of  a  cog- 
nitive act  without   a   cou-sciousness  ot  its 
object,  146  et  seq. :  this  .shown  in  detail  with 
regard  to  imagination,  147;    Memory,  149 
tt  ■'■ifj. ;  E.xternal  I'erception,  154  ri  seq  :  At- 
tention and  Keflectiou  acts  subordinate  to 
and  contained  in  consciousness,  maintained 
against   Ilcid   and   Stewart,  160  tl  seq. ;  see 
Iteid.  evidence  and  authority  of,  183  tl  seq.; 
the  source  of  philosophy,  ib.  el  -seq.,  197;  ver- 
acity of,  implied  in  possibility  of  philoso- 
phy, 183;   as  the   criterion   of  philosophy, 
naturally   clear   and   unerring,   184;    three 
grand   laws  under   which    its  pha'uoniena 
can  be  legitimately  investigate<l,  186  tl  seq., 
1   the  law  of  Parclmony,  ib.;  fact  of.  what, 
187;  its  facts  to  be  con.sidered  in  two  points 
of  view,  188;  how  far  doubt  is  possible  re- 
garding a  fact  of.  IS**;   the  two  degrees  of 
the  evidence   of.   confounded   by   .*»tewart, 
189  It  seq. ,  results  of  the  law  of  I'arcimony 
as  applied  to,  191;  the  second  and   third 
laws  regulating  the  investigation  of,  —  In- 
tegrity   and   Harmony,  191-2  rt  seq,-   how 
skepticism  arises  out  of  the  violation  of  the 
integrity  of,  Itri;  the  integrity  of,  violated 
by  Dr.  Thomas  Brown,  193  et  seq  ;  the  abso- 
lute   and    universal    veracity    of,   mu.st   be 
maintained.  19):  lirsf  general  fact  of, —'its 
Duality  what,  and  huw  \  iolateil,  200  rt  seq. : 
the  fact  of  the  testimony  of,  in   I'erception 
allowed  by  those  who  deny  its  truth.  2(Xt  <f 
tey..  34S;   authors  (juoted   to  this   elVei-t, — 
Berkeley,  201;   Hume.  i/;.     iheegn  anil  non- 
ego  given  by,  in  eipial  eoiinli-rpojsc  and  in- 
dependence,   203  ;    dillereut     philosophical 
systems  originating  in  this  fart  of  the  dual- 
ity of,   as  accepted  or   rejected.  —  Natural   , 
Itenlism,  203:  .^ulwinntjalisni  and  Nihilism, 
204,   .Suhstanlialism  <li\ided  inti>  ily|iotlii-t- 
ioal  l);ialism  or  (dsmothetic  Idealism,  and 
Slonism  or  Unitarinnism.  20'>,  Monisin.  its 
«uhdiviHions,  2f).>-6,  second  general  fact  ■>!', 
—  the  Activitv  and   Tasslvitv   of  mind.  2lil 


el  seq. ;  we  are  active  in  so  far  as  we  are  con- 
scious, 217;  Are  we  always  consciously  ac- 
tive? 217  et  seq.;  this  (juestion  is   conlined 
to  the  phicnomena  of  sleep  and  somnam- 
bulism, ib. ;  not  identical  with  the  question. 
—  Have  we  always  a  memory  of  our  con- 
sciousness ?  ib. :    opinions   of  philosophers 
on  the  former  question,  218  et  seq.;  dealt 
with  by  philosophers  rather  by  hypothesiu 
than  by  experiment,  222;  conclusions  from 
experiments    made    by    the    author,    ib  ; 
Locke's   objection,  that   consciousness  and 
the  recollection   of  consciousness  are  con- 
vertible, di,sj)roved   by  somnambniisro,  i6., 
and  by  the  tact  that  dreaming  is  possible 
without   memory,  223;    that  the   mind   re- 
mains con.scious  during  slee|>  established  by 
exi)erieuee,  224;  results  of  the  authors  per- 
sonal exijerience,  —  that  the  mind  is  never 
wholly   inactive,   and    thiit    we   are   never 
wholly  uncon.scious  of  its  activity,  224-6; 
.loufTroy  quoted  in  supfiorf  of  the  author's 
doctrine  on  this  point,  and  of  sundry  otlier 
conclusions,  226  et  seq  :  cases  adduced   in 
support  of  aflirmative  of  ({uestion.  that  we 
are  always  consciously  active,  232-4  ►(  .«»7  . 
Is  the  mind  ever  unconsciously   modified  .' 
2&'jelseq.,  this  (lue.-tion  not  mooted  in  this 
country,  2;J5;  how  decided  in  <iermuny  and 
France,  235*  251;  the  mind  contains  modifi- 
cations of  which  we  are  unconscious,  235 
et  .seq.;  three  degrees  of  mental  latency,  ib. 
et  seq. ;  the  first  and  second  degrees  illus- 
trated by  cases,  236  et  .vq  .-  cases  of  nuid- 
ness,  237;  of  fever,  237;  case  of  the  fom- 
tesse  de  Laval,  238;  case  given  by  Coleridge, 
239;  the  third  degree  of  mental  latency,  241; 
the  problem  in  i\-gard  to  the  third  degree  — 
Are   there,   in    ordinarx.  mental    modifica- 
tions of  which    we   are    unconscious,   but 
which  manifest  their  existence  by  facts  of 
which  we  are  con.<cious.'  241  tt  ,«.(/.,  2C3  ri 
seq  ;  this  problem  cnnsiih'ivd  in  itself  and 
in    its    history,  ib. ;    the    aflirniative    main- 
tained, 241 't  .^'9. ,  the  mental  modifications 
in  question  manifest  their  existence  through 
their  effects,  242;  this  established  from  the 
nature  of  consciousness   itself,  ib  :  the  spe- 
cial evidence  foi  the  allinnative  of  the  gen- 
eral problem  adduced,  242 '' .<"/  .•  in  I    Kx- 
ternal  Terceplion,  243-4,  253:    II     .\.->ocii»- 
tion  of  Ideas.  244  '/  fq  .  254  ii  "7  .  ill.  t»ll 
Acquired  Dexterities  and  Habits,  247  f' .«"?•. 
2()5  rr  Stq.:  history   of  the  doctrine  of  un- 
conscious mental  modifications,  2riO  '/  seq  : 
lA>ibnit/.  the  first  to  proclaim  the  doctrine. 
2r>2;  authors  refern^l  to  on  doctrine  of  la- 
tency. 2.M -2:  consciousness  and  nn  niory  in 
IIh'   ilirect    ratio   o(   each    other,   256;   tlirec 
principal  fact*  'o  be  noticeil  in  connection 
with  the  gei'.eial  phsmomena  of.  258 '»  seq.. 
1.  .'<eH-K\i-lencc.  Z't'^:  2    Mental   IJiiitv  or 


7U0 


INDEX. 


Individuality,  259;  the  truth  of  the  testi- 
mony of,  to  our  Mental  Unity  doubted,  16.  ,• 
3.  Mental  Identity,  2()0 ;  Ditliculties  and 
Facilities  in  the  study  of  the  phenomena 
vt,  2()0  et  sey.:  I.  Ditliculties,  1.  Tlie  con- 
scious mind  at  once  the  observing  subject 
and  the  object  observed,  261;  2  Want  of 
mutual  cooperation,  261;  3.  'Sc  fact  of  con- 
sciousness can  be  accepted  at  second  liaud. 
262;  4.  riueuotnt'na  of  consciousness  only 
to  be  studied  tliroush  memory,  263;  5.  Jvat- 
urally  blended  with  each  other,  and  pre- 
sented in  complexity,  2i>4,  284;  6.  The  act 
of  reHection  comparatively  delicieut  in 
pleasure,  2fJ5;  II  Facilities,  266 
CONSERVATivii  Faculty,  what,  274.  2S3;  its 
relation  to  the  faculties  ot  Actiui^itioii,  Re- 
production, and  Uepreseutation,  411;  why 
tlie  phicnomena  of  Conservation,  IJeproduc- 
tion,  and  Uepreseutation  have  not  been  dis- 
tinguished in  the  analysis  of  philosophers, 
412;  ordinary  use  of  the  terms  Mtrnory  and 
Rerollectiuii,  412  et  seq  ,  memory  properly  tie 
notes  the  power  of  retention,  I'o  ,  this  use 
of  memory  acknowledged  by  Plato,  Aris- 
totle, St.  AujTustin,  Julius  C'iesar  Scaliger, 
16.  .•  Joseph  .Scaliger,  413;  .Suabedissien,  Fries, 
H  Schmid,  etc  .  414:  Memory  what,  ib. ;  the 
fact  of  retention  admitted,  ib':  the  hypoth- 
esis of  4»viceiina  regarding  retention,  ib  ; 
retention  admits  of  explanation,  ib. ;  simil- 
itudes suggested  in  illustration  of  the  fac- 
ulty of  retention,  by  Cicero.  Gsissendi,  415; 
these  resemblances  of  use  simply  as  meta- 
phors, ib  :  H.  sjchmid  quoted  on,  415-20; 
the  phsenomenon  of  retention  naturally 
arises  from  the  self-energy  ol  mind,  415 :  this 
specially  shown,  416  et  seg. ;  the  pi-oblem 
most  difficult  of  solution  is  not  how  a  nieii- 
tal  activity  endures,  hut  how  it  ever  van- 
ishes, (6. ;  the  difficulty  removed  by  tfie 
principle  of  latent  modifications,  ib. ;  for- 
getfulness,  417;  distraction  and  attention, 
418;  two  observations  regarding  memory  — 
I.  The  law  of  retention  extends  over  all  the 
phenomena  of  mind  alike,  418;  2,  the  vari- 
ous attempts  to  explain  memory  by  phys- 
iological hypotheses  unnecessary,  411);  mem- 
ory greatly  dependent  on  corporeal  condi- 
tions, 16.  .•  physiological  hypotheses  of  the 
older  psychologists  regarding  memory,  420; 
two  qualities  reciuisite  to  a  good  memory, 
viz.,  Retention  and  Repr'xlnction,  ib.;  re- 
markafjle  case  of  retention  narrated  by 
Muretus,  421-2;  case  of  Giulio  (iuidi,  423: 
two  opposite  doctrines  in  regard  to  the  rela 
lions  of  memory  to  tlie  higher  powers  of 
mind —  1.  That  a  great  power  of  memory  is 
incompatible  with  a  high  degree  of  intelli- 
gence, 424;  this  opinion  refuted  by  facts, 
425  ;  examples  of  high  intelligence  and 
great   memory,  Joseph  .Scaliger,  Grotius, 


Pascal,  etc  ,425-6;  2.  That  a  high  degree  ot 
intelligence  supposes  great  power  of  mem- 
ory, 420, 

CoNSTAXTius  a  Sarnano,  163. 

Contemplative  Feelings,  see  Feelings. 

Contradiction,  law  of,  see  Non-Contradic- 
tion and  Thought 

CONTZEN,  163. 

Coi'E,  reierrcd  to  on  the  meaning  of  ot  ffO(po\, 
oi  (TO(j>iaTal,  34. 

COTTUNIDS,  272. 

Cocsijv,  44,  90;  referred  to  on  Descartes'  cos- 
ito  ergo  sum,  2.59:  vigorously  ai-saulted  the 
school  of  Coiidillac.  277,  .307,  465,  542. 

CowLEV,  quoted,  OOy. 

CuAMER,  his  AnecJota  Grerea,  referred  to,  36, 
37.  81. 

Creation,  as  conceived  by  us,  652. 

Critical  Method,  what,  403;  its  sphere,  ib. , 
notice  of  its  employment  in  philosophy,  ib. 

CRO0SAZ,  308-9  ;  distinguished  Perception 
from  Sensation,  .3-34.  .501:  quoted  on  Judg- 
ment, 504-5. 

CUDWOHTH,  28  ;  held  Plastic  Medium,  208, 
213.  .348. 

CULLEN,  53. 

Custom,  power  of,  59  ;   skeptical  inference 
from  the  influence  of,  60;  testimonies  to.  62. 
CuviER,  179. 
CYRU.S,  his  great  memory,  426. 

D'AiLi.Y,  542. 

D'Alembert,  177;  on  Touch,  376;  388,  see 
.Sight. 

Damascenps,  referred  to,  on  definition  of 
philosophy,  37,  292. 

D.\MiRON,  referred  to  on  doctrine  of  mental 
latency,  2.35,  2.52. 

Davies,  Sir  John,  quoted,  52. 

Decomposition.  .<«■?  Elaborative  Faculty. 

Degeraxdo,  177,  210;  quoted  on  Classifica- 
tion, 466.  467. 

Deity,  His  e.vistence  an  inference  from  a 
special  class  of  etlects,  19;  tliese  exclusively 
given  in  the  pliienomena  of  mind,  ib. .  what 
kind  of  cause  constitutes  a  Deity,  ib. :  no- 
tion of  God  not  contained  in  the  notion  of 
a  mere  First  Cause,  19;  to  the  notions  of  a 
Piiinary  and  Oiimii^otent  Cause  must  be 
added  those  of  lu'elligince  and  Virtue,  ib.: 
conditions  of  the  proof  of  the  existence  of 
a  Deity,  twofoUl,  20;  proof  of  these  condi- 
tions dependent  on  philosophy,  21. 

Democritus.  his  theory  of  Perception.  293, 
;i">l ;  Ills  doctrine  of  tlie  qualities  of  matter, 
.342;  his  doctrine  that  all  the  senses  are  only 
mo  iifications  of  Touch,  374. 

Demosthenes,  52. 

Di;NaiN(;Er..  referred  to,  on  definition  of  Phi 
losophy,35,  2.52 

Dk  R.'VEi,  on  Touch,  376,  513. 

Derodon,  474,  479,  485. 


INDEX, 


YOl 


Dkscartes,  referred  to  on  definition  of  j>li)- 
losopliy,  35,  51,  G3,  76;  liis  division  of  phi- 
losopliy,  83;  his  doctrine  of  substance.  108; 
rejiarded  faculty  of  knowledge  as  the  fun- 
damental jiower  of  mind,  129  ;  the  first 
uniformly  to  use  comcimtia  as  equivalent 
to  eonsciousness,  136;  used  refitrtion  in  its 
Iisychologiciil  application,  164,  179;  see  At- 
tention, 200;  to  him  belongs  the  hypothesis 
of  Occasional  Causes,  208,  209,  214;  held 
.that  the  mind  is  always  conscious,  218;  his 
cos:ito  ergo  sii7)i,  258,  644,  271;  cardinal  prin- 
ciple of  his  philosophy,  295;  twofold  use  of 
the  term  i'lea  by,  296;  held  the  more  com- 
plex hypothesis  of  I{ei)resentative  Percep- 
tion, 300  et  seq.;  distinf;uished  I'erceiition 
from  Sensation,  334;  recalled  attention  to 
the  distinction  of  Primary  and  Secondary 
(Qualities,  342,515,  iec  Regulative  Faculty; 
on  pleasure,  591,  see  Feelings. 

Depiuis,  see  Conation  and  'NViH. 

Destutt-Thacy,  177. 

Devili.eman'DY,  referred  to  on  Aristotle's 
doctrine  of  species,  202. 

De  Vkies,  301. 

Dkxtkuities,  accjuired,  see  Habit. 

r)lA  NOETIC,  how  to  be  employed,  574.  &»e 
Logic. 

DiGiJY  (Sir  Kenelm),  357. 

DitxiENES,  see  Laertius. 

Discussions  on  Philosophy,  the  author's  re- 
f-ired  to,  0,  40,  43,  47,  etc. 

DISPOSITION,  what,  124. 

DoGVATiBTS.  a  sect  of  physicians,  noticed, 
39;  heaoed  by  (jalen.  ih. 

DoNELLUs,  his  great  memory,  426. 

Doubt,  the  (Irst  step  t<>  philosophy,  57,63;  on 
this  philosophers  unanimous,  t'6. ;  testimo- 
nies to  need  of,  ih.     See  Philosophy. 

Dkea.mi.no.  possible  without  memory,  223; 
:in  effect  of  imaginiition  determined  bv  as- 
sociation, 457,  case  of,  mentioned  by  ,\bel, 
458. 

Du  Bos,  on  pleasure,  'M;  s>e  Feelings. 

l)rnAM)US,  176;  ijuoted  on  doctrine  of  spe- 
cies, 292;  his  doctrine  of  spi'cies  concurred 
in  by  Occam,  Ciregory  of  Pimini,  and  ISiel, 
ih.;  quoted  on  distinction  of  intuitive  and 
abstractive  knowledge,  ."!<!. 

Eberiiaud,  660.     See  Feelings. 

Education.  Liberal  and  I'rofessional,  dis- 
criminated. 4;  the  true  end  of  liberal  edu- 
cation, 11;  jtlace  and  importance  of  the 
feelings  in  education,  12,  i>36;  the  great 
)>robUm  in,  (.37, 

Ego,  or  .Self,  meaning  of,  illustrateil   from 
Plato,    113;    Aristotle,    Ilicrocles,    Cicero, 
Macrobiiis,     Aibullinot.     (iatien-.Vrnoult.  | 
quoted    in    further   ilhislration    of,    114-15;   i 
the    terms  F-go  and    Non-Ego,   prelerable  j 
to  Self  and  Not-.Self.  116;   how  e.xpresscd 


in  (ierm:  n  and  French.  i/>.;  the  Ego  and 
Non-Ego  given  by  consciousness  in  equal 
countei-poise  and  independence,  203;  s-e 
Consciousness. 
ELAnoiiATivE  Faculty,  what,  276,  284,  403.- 
acts  included  under,  ih. ;  liow  de.-ignated. 
276,463;  defect  in  the  analysis  cf  this  fac- 
ulty by  philosophers,  464;  positions  to  be 
established  regarding,  ib  ;  comparison  a.< 
determined  by  objective  conditions,  4iVi:  as 
determined  by  the  necessities  of  the  think- 
ing subject,  466  rt  sei/./  Classification,  Com- 
position, or  Synthesis  shown  to  be  an  act 
of  comjjarison,  466,  474;  in  regard  to  com- 
plex or  collective  notions,  466;  in  the  sim- 
l)Iest  act  of  cla.ssification.  the  mind  depend- 
ent on  language,  407;  Deconqiosition  two- 
fold, 1  in  the  interest  of  the  Fine  Arts.  468; 
2.  in  the  interest  of  Science,  ib.;  Abstrac- 
tion, ib.  el  seq  ;  abstraction  of  the  senses. 
ih.;  abstraction  a  natural  and  necessary 
processs,  469 ;  the  work  of  com|>arison, 
470  ;  Generalization,  ib.  et  seij. ;  idea  ab- 
stract and  individual,  ib  :  abstract  general 
notions,  what  and  bow  formed,  471;  two- 
fold (luantity  in  notions,  —  E.xtension  and 
Comprehension,  ih. ,  their  designations,  472, 
abstraction  from,  and  attention  to.  are 
correlative  terms,  474  ;  Partial  or  Con- 
crete Abstraction,  ib.  ;  Modal  Abstrac- 
tion, ih  :  generalization  deijondent  on  ab- 
stracti(  u.  but  absliaction  does  not  involve 
generalization,  ib.;  Stewart  cjuoted  to  this 
effect,  tb  ;  Can  we  form  an  adequate  idea 
of  what  is  denoted  by  an  abstract  general 
term?  476  ttsei/.;  the  controversy  between 
Nominalism  and  Concei)tualism  i)rincipally 
agitated  in  Britain,  i6.  ,•  t«o  o]>inions  on. 
which  still  divide  i)hikisoi)hei-8, /6  ,•  Nomi 
na'ism,  what,  477;  nniiutaimd  by  Iloblies 
Berkeley.  Hume,  Adam  Smith.  Campbeji, 
and  .Stewart,  ih;  doctrine  of  Nominalism 
as  stated  by  Berkeley,  478-9,  483;  Concep- 
tualism  maintained  by  Locke,  479 ;  by 
jtrown.  4SO-81  ;  lirown's  tioctrinc  criti- 
ci/i'd.  4'^1  'I  .<"/.,■  liis  confutation  of  Nom- 
inalism, 4S2;  1  That  the  .Nominalists  allow 
the  apprehension  of  resemblance.  ))roveJ 
against  Brown  by  reference  to  Ilobbes,  4.'-^2. 
Hume,  48,3:  Adiim  Smith,  ib.:  (  amplKll. 
484;  Stewart,  ih  ;  2.  That  Brown  wrong  in 
holding  that  tlie  lirling  (imtioni  ol  simiii- 
tude  is  general,  and  constitutes  the  general 
notion.  —  proved  by  a  series  of  axioms 
4.84-5;  po.ssilile  grounds  ol  Brown's  .••uppt'- 
silion  that  the  feeling  of  resemblunce  .t 
uniNcrjial,  48i-8;  suinnniry  of  the  author's 
doctrine  of  ticneralization.  488  ;  Brown's 
doctrine  of  general  notions  fiirt her  consiti- 
ered.4'''9;  Dix's  language  originate  in  goi.- 
cral  ai)i)e;i:iti»rs  or  b>  prop.^r  nami-'  4. J 
rt  srq.,  are  Language;    ,1u(lgniot)t    and  lira 


702 


INDEX 


soiling  shown  to  be  acfs  of  comparison,  502 
et  seg. ;  these  uecessary  tVom  the  hmitation 
of  the  human  miuil,  ib.;  act  of  judgmeut, 
what,  503;  constituents  of  a  judgment,— 
Subject,  Predicate,  Copula,  504;  expressed 
in  words  is  a  I'ropositiou,  ib. ;  how  the  parts 
of  a  proposition  are  to  be  discriminated, 
ib.:  what  judgment  involves,  505;  Reason- 
ing, wliat,  i(/.:  illustrated,  ib. ;  Deductive 
and  Inductive,  ib.  ;  Deductive,  its  axiom, 
508,  its  two  kinds,  ib. ,  Comprehension  and 
Extension  of  notions  as  applied  to  Reason- 
ing, ib  ;  1.  Deductive  reasoning  in  the  whole 
of  Comprelier.sion.  507  ;  its  canon  in  this 
who!e,  ib. ;  2.  Deductive  reasoning  in  the 
whole  of  Extension,  508;  Inductive  reason- 
ing, its  iixiom,  509;  of  two  kinds,  ib. ;  De- 
ductive :,nd  Inductive  illation  must  be  of 
an  absolute  necessity,  ib  ;  account  of  In- 
duction by  logicians  erroneous,  ib. ;  in  Ex- 
tension and  Comprehension,  the  analysis 
of  the  one  corresponds  to  the  synthesis  of 
the  other,  510;  confusion  among  philoso- 
phers from  not  having  observed  this,  511. 
Eleatic  school,  75 
EMPiiUOCLES,  290,  387. 

Empiric   or   Empirical,   its  by-meaning  in 
common  English,  3^;  origin  of  this  mean- 
ing, ib.;  its  philosophical  meaning, 39;  used 
in  contrast  with  the  term  necessary,  40,  see 
Knowledge;  the  Xerxas  historical  and  empir- 
ical, used  as  synonymous  by  Aristotle,  ib. 
Empirics,  the,  noticed,  38.     See  Empiric. 
Empiricus,   i^extus,  (iuoted   on  division  of 
philosophy,   80,    81  ;    his   employment    of 
avvaia^n-iaiz.  1.38. 
Encephalo.'*.  see  Brain. 
Encyclop-euia  Dritannica,  109,  et  alibi. 
Ends  and  Meaus  di.-ciiminated,  14;  adapta- 
tion of  means  to  ends,  how  pleasing,  622; 
ends  of  two  kinds,  external  and  internal, 
hence  the  Useful  and  the  Perfect,  ib. 
Energy,  what,  124;  distinction  of  first  and 
second,  ib  ;  we  may  suppose  three  kinds  of 
mental,  —  Ineuut,  Immanent,  and  Transe- 
unt,  565,  see  Mind. 
Ennui,  603.     See  Feelings. 
Ephesius,  Michael,  his  employment  of  ffvvai- 
<TdT}cns,  1.38;  his  doctrine  of  consciousness, 
189,  see  Psellus,   Michael  ;    referred   to   on 
Aristotle's  doctrine  of  species,  293. 
Epictetcs,  referred  to,  34. 
Epicureans,  division  of  philosophy  adopted 

by,  80. 
Epicurus,    liis   theory   of  Perception,  293, 

351. 
Ethics,  presupposes  a  certain  knowledge  of 
miud,  44;  why  usually  designated  a  science, 
83;  division  of  philosophy,  80;  a  uomolog- 
ical  science,  86. 
Euclid,  291. 
Euoenius,  or  Eugenios,  of  Bulgaria,  his  em- 


ptoymcnt  of  (rufe i57J<t«s  and  ffvyeiriypoiffit 

138,  472,  507. 
EULEit,  his  great  memory,  208,  425. 
Euripides,  quoted.  460. 
EusEBius,  81. 

EUSTKATIUS,  138. 

Examinations,  their  use  and  importance  ia 
a  class  of  Philosophy,  12. 

Excluded  Middle,  law  of,  526. 

ExERTivE,  as  a  term  denoting  faculties  of 
will  and  desire.  128. 

Existence,  analogy  between  our  experience 
and  the  absolute  order  of,  22;  man's  knowl- 
edge of  relative,  96  et  seq. ;  all  not  com- 
prised in  what  is  relative  to  us.  99,  see 
Knowledge;  potential  and  actual,  how  dis- 
tinguished. 124;  designations  of  potential 
and  of  actual,  ib.;  the  highest  form  of 
thought,  525,  548. 

Experiential,  39. 

Experimental,  its  limitation,  39. 

Extension,  an  object  of  Sight,  385,  .see  Sight; 
cannot  be  represented  to  the  mind  except 
as  colored,  385,  387;  cannot  be  represented 
in  Imagination  without  shape,  386;  objec- 
tion to  this  doctrine  obviated,  387.  See 
Space. 

Extension  of  notions,  see  Elaborative  Fac- 
ulty. 

Facciolati,  08. 

Faculty,  origin  and  meaning,  123  ;  appro- 
priately applied  to  natural  capabilities,  124; 
distinguished  trom  capacity,  269;  form  of, 
what,  401. 
Feelings,  one  grand  division  of  the  phae- 
nomena  of  mind,  86.  559:  Nomology  of,  87; 
this  called  Philosophy  of  Taste,  JEsthetir.  ib. ; 
ambiguj*y  of  word.  ib..  127,  561;  Nomology 
of  Feelings  best  denominated  Apolaustic. 
87;  two  preliminary  questions  regarding. 
559;  I.  Do  the  phasnoraena  of  Pleasure  and  ' 
i      Pain  con.stitute  a  distinct  order  of  mental 
1      states  .'   ib.,  el  seq  ;  the  feelings  not  recog- 
j      nized  as  the  manifestations  of  any  funda- 
mental  power  by  Aristotle  or  Plato,  or  un- 
j      til  a  very  recent  period,  560;   recognition 
I       of  the  feelings  by  modern  philosophers,  ib. ; 
,       Sulzer,    Mendelssohn,    Kicstner,    Mcinors, 
j      Eberhard,  Platner,  .5li0;   Kant  th..-   !ir.-t  to 
establish  the  trichotomy  of  the  mental  pow- 
I      ers,  561  ;  Kant's  doctrine  controverted  by 
)      some  philosophers  of  note,  ib. .  Can  v,  e  dis- 
criminate  in    consciousness   certain    state* 
which  cannot  be  reduced  to  those  of  <-'og- 
nition  or  Conation?  563;  this  question  de- 
cided in  the  affirmative  by  an  appeal  to 
experience,  ib :  grounds  on  which  objection 
has  been  taken  to  the  feelings  as  a  class  of 
mental  phenomena  coordinate  with  those 
of  cognition  and  conation,  564  et  seq. ;  Krug 
quoted,  564-5:  Biunde  quoted  in  answer  tc 


INDEX, 


•03 


Krug,  5&5-6  ;  II.  "What  is  (he  position  of 
t)ie  Feelings  by  reference  to  tlie  two  other 
classes  of  mental  phenomena?  567  ec  set/.; 
liiunde    quoted    on    this    question,    567-9; 
intermediate   between    the   cognitions   and 
conations,   567  ;    importance    of  a  correct 
understanding  of  the  nature  and  influence 
of,  568;  place  of  the  theory  of,  in  the  sci- 
ence of  mind,  560;  III.  Into  what  subdivis- 
ions are  the  Feelings  to  be  distributi-il  ?  i6., 
etseq.:  divisions  proposed  by  ])hilos()phers. 
ih  ;  by  Kant,  ib.;  Schuize,  570;  llillebrand. 
ib  ;  Herbart,  ib.;  Carus,  ib.;  liow  discrimi- 
nated  from  cognition   and   conation,  572: 
what  are  the  geiieial  conditions  which  de-' 
lermine  tlie  existence  of  Pleasure  and  I'ain  .* 
573  <■/  sfq,;  I.  Theory  of  I'leasure  and  I'uin' 
stated  in  the  abstract,  i6.,  ct  seq.;  pleasure 
and  pain  opposed  as  contraries,  575;  defi- 
i  nitions   of  pleasure    and   pain,  577  ;    these 
illustrated,  1.  jjleasure  the  retle.v  of  energy, 
ib.:  2.  spontaneous  and  unimpeded,  57S:  3. 
of  which  we  are  conscious,  ib.;  pleasure 
Positive   and   Negative,   ib  ;   pain  I'ositive 
and    Negative,   579  ;    positive   pain    subdi- 
vided, (6.  ,•  corollaries  from  preceding  doc- 
trine, ib  ;  general  Iiistorical  notices  of  the- 
ories of  the  I'leasurable,  580  et  seq. ;  these 
theories   fall    into  two   grand  classes — the 
I'lutonic  and  Aristotelic,  .")81 ;  I'hito  the  first 
to  attempt  the  generalization  of  a  law  of 
pleasure   and   i>aiii,   iO.  ;   Plato's  theory, — 
that  a  state  of  pleasure  is  always  preceded 
by  a  state  of  i)ain,  li.,  et  seq. ;  sum  of  IMato's 
doctrine  of  tlie  pleasurable,  583  ;  the  doc- 
trine of  Aristotle  proposed  to  correct  and 
supplement  the   Platonic,  584;   the  theory 
of  Aristotle,  —  pleasure  the  concomitant  of 
the   unimi)edcd    energv    of  a    )power,  585; 
nothing  added  in  anti(|uity  to  the  two  the- 
ories of  Plato  and  Aristotle,  586;  file  theo- 
ries of  Plato  and  Aristotle  reduced  to  unity, 
687  ;  in  what  sense  the  Platonic  dogma  is 
true,)/;  .■  after  compulsory  iiiiiction  pleasure 
higher  than  in  ordinary  cireunistances,  5&S; 
unfair  to   ap|>ly  the  magnifying  eflect  of 
contrast    to   disprove   the    positive    reality 
of  pleasure  m<)r<'  than  of  pain,  ib. :  pleasure 
and  piiiii  butli  Absolute  and   Uchilive.  589; 
<'ardun  held  a  theory  identical  with  Plato's, 
ib. :   his  theory  criticized,  590  ;  Montaigne 
held  a  similar  doctrine,  ib  :  Descartes'  doc- 
trine of  the  pleasurable,  591;  groundle.ssly 
lauded  for  its  novelty  and  importance,  i6..- 
only  a  vague  version  of  tliat  of  Aristotle, 
592;  Leibnitz  adopted  both  the  counter  the- 
ories, ib. :  doctrine  of  W<jlf,  ib. ;  wrongly 
considers  pleasirre  an   attribute   of  (he  ob- 
ject, 593;  Wolfs  doctrini' partially  assailed 
by  Mendelssohn,  ^>'M  ;  doctrine  of  l>u  Uos 
and   Pouilly,  ib.;  of  Sulzer,  595,  598;    of 
Genoveni    and  Verri,    598;    of   Kant.    599; 


Classification  of  Feelings,  602  ;  their  prin- 
ciple of  classification   internal,!*.;   admit 
of  a  twofold  classification,  as  Causes  and  aj< 
Effects,  ih. :  as  causes  divided  into  Pleasur- 
able and  Painful,  (303;  application  of  fore- 
going   theory   to   explain    in   general    tlie 
causes  of  pleasurable  and  painful  feeling, 
ib.,  el  seq.;  apparent  contnidietions  of  th« 
theory  prove  real  coiilirniations,  i^.  ,■   Dolce 
far  niente,  ib. :    Ennui,  i',. :    all    Occupation 
either  jilay  or  labor,  ib. ;  love  of  action  sig- 
nalized as  a  fact  in  human  nature  by  all 
observers,   604;   by   .Samuel   Johnson,   ib.; 
.\(hini  Ferguson,  ib. :  Paley,  605;  the  theory 
confirmed  by  the  phenomena  of  the  Pain- 
ful   Affections,  ib.,  et   .^eq  ;    of  Urief,   60«j; 
authors  by    whom  these   observed,  ib.:  of 
Fear,  607;  of  Pity,  ib. :  of  Energetic  Emo- 
tions, 608;  general  causes  which  contribute 
to  raise  or  lower  the  intensity  of  our  ener- 
gies, ii>..  et  .<.eq.:  1.  Novelty,  ib  :  II.  Con- 
tra.«t,  609;  III    Harmony  and  Discord,  610; 
IV.  Association,  611;  this  i)rinciplesuppo.«es 
jiains  and  pleasures  not  founded  on  itself, 
ib.:    the  attempt   to  resolve  all   our   pleas- 
ures and  pains  into  association  vicious  in  a 
twofold  way,  612;    Ilutcheson  more   proi>- 
erly  appreciated  the  influence  of  association, 
ib. :  the  I'eelings  considered  as  KfTects,  '.ibS 
et  seq  :  as  many  ditferent  feelings  as  there 
are  distinct  modes  of  mental  activity,  ih. ; 
two  grand  cla.sscs  of,  I.  Sensations,  ib.,  et 
seq.;  of  sensations,  two  classes,  1.   of  the 
Five   Senses;  2.  of  tlio   Sensus  Vagus,  614 
et  seq. :  organic  pleasure  and  pain,  ih  ;  how- 
far  the   theory   of  pleasure   and   pain    af- 
fords an  explanation  of  the  plia>nomcna, 
615;  11.  Sentiments,  divided  into  Contem- 
plative and  Practical,  616  ;  Coiitemphitive 
into  those  of  the  .Subsidiary  Facullie-;,  an<l 
of  the  Elaborative,  ib.,  et  seq. ;  the  first  class 
into  those  of  Self-Cpnsciousnes.s  and  of  Im- 
agination, ib  ;  a.  of  .Self  Consciousness,  i6., 
ft  .-irq.  :  Tedium  or  Eiii.ui,  ib. :  Pastimes,  ril7; 
tiames  of  Skill  ami  Cliaiice,  ib  ;  (.■iililine.'is, 
618;   Nausea,  ib.;  b.  Sentiments  conconii- 
tiint  of  Imagination,  618  '/  .»'</.,■  the  ISeauti- 
ful,  how  constituted.  619,  G24  ft  seq.:  condi- 
tions   of   the    pleasurable   as    regards   the 
rnderstanding,    620    ft   seq  ;    obscure    and 
confused  cognitions,  how  disagreeablf.  lA.  ; 
Wit,   how  pleasing  ;   Sentiment   of  Truth, 
liow  pleasing,   62i>-21 ;   (ii-nerali/.ation   and 
.Speciiication,    bow  iileasiinible.   6'Jl  ;    .'sci- 
ence, how  pleasing,  622;   I 'eduction   fmm 
first  principles,  ib.:  adaptation  of  Mi-niis  to 
Ends,  how  pleasing,  ib  :  Feelings  that  arise 
from  the   Imagination  and  iinderstnnillnK 
In  ronjumtiiMi.  619^1  .»'7,624;   Heaut>  and 
Sublimity,  624  tt  srq. :  Reauly  dislin^iii-J.e.l 
B8  absolute  and  Ke!ali»e.  i."!  .  this  di>finc- 
tion  unsound,  025;  thol'^eful  and  the  I'eau 


704 


I X  D  ]•:  X , 


tiful  distinct,  il>  ;  Si.  Ali^iistiu's  doctrine 
on  this  point  superior  to  tlie  modern,  i*. / 
Kclutivo  Hc:\nty,  wliat,  62(5;  the  theory  of 
I'ree  or  Ali.solnte  Ueauty,  ib.  :  tlie  theory 
explains  tlie  diirerence  of  individnals  in  the 
iij)prebension  of  the  Beautiful,  (4. ;  and 
affords  the  reason  wliy  our  pleasure  is  less- 
ened when  we  analyze  the  object  into  its 
pa'.ts,  ()27;  Helative  jJeauty  from  the  con- 
formity of  Jlean  to  Knd,  ib.;  judgments  of 
Taste  either  Pure  or  mixed,  628;  the  lieau- 
tifal  defined,  ib.;  the  feelinj;  of  the  Sublime 
jjartiy  p!eas;:r!'.ble,  partly  painful,  ib..  et  seq; 
theory  of  the  Sublime,  ib.;  the  Sublime  di- 
vided into  that  of  Extension,  Protension, 
and  Intension,  629  et  seq.;  Kant  quoted  in 
illustration  of  the  Sublime  in  its  three 
forms,  030;  tlie  Picturesque,  wherein  it  con- 
sists, and  liow  it  difl'ers  from  the  Sublime 
and  l?e:iutifu!,  631;  the  Practical  Feelings, 
ih. ;  their  divisions,  1.  those  relative  to  Self- 
Preservation,  632  ;  2  Enjo.\  ment  of  Exist- 
ence. 7h. ,  3.  Preservation  of  Species,  ib. : 
4.  Tendency  to  Deveiopnient,  633  ;  5.  the 
Moral  Law.  li. 

f"E!tocsoii  (Adam),  61,  578;  on  love  of  action, 
604. 

Feukariensis,  176,  272,  316. 

FiciiYK.  referred  to  on  definition  of  philoso- 
j.hy,  35;  division  of  philosophy  adopted  by, 
84.  202;  issue  of  his  Idealism,  204:  his  ob- 
jactio'.i  to  the  doctrine  of  Natural  Realism, 

wot'. 

yicijjns,  Marsillius.  48.  176 ;  quoted  on  a 
passage  in  I'iato's  Timmis,  213,  271. 

Fli^t,  Itev.  Mr  ,  case  of,  2.37. 

FoKGE.  De  la,  162;  held  hypothesis  of  Divine 
Assistance  209. 

Foy.sfKCA,  468. 

Fkacastorius.  quoted  on  Platonic  philoso- 
phy, 289. 

FUAMCLIJJ,  53. 

FuEioius,  Joannes  Th.'mas,  96 
Fries.  252,  288,  411,  429,  431,  438. 
FuoMOXDUf?,  270,  272. 
Function,  what,  125. 

Gatien-Akxoult,  57,  58,  64;  quoted  on  Ego, 
116.  463. 

Gale,  Tiieoph  ,  94. 

Galen,  39,  .see  Dogmati.sts;  his  doctrine  of 
mental  powers,  270,  291,  292;  on  Touch,  377. 

Gall,  his  mode  of  phrenological  discovery, 
650  et  aer/. :  how  he  met  the  argument 
against  phrenology  from  the  e.xistence  and 
extent  of  the  Frontal  Sinuses,  654.  See 
Phrenology  and  Sinu.ses. 

Garnieii,  quoted,  50,  51. 

Gassendi,  his  division  of  philosophy,  84; 
used  reflection  in  its  psychological  applica- 
tion, 262;  held  Pla.stic  Medium,  214.  650; 
referred  to  on  Aristotle's  doctrine  of  spe- 


cies, 292;  fundamental  error  of  Stewart  in 
regard  to  the  philosophy  of,  407;  though  a 
Sensatioiiulist  he  admitted  Iceflection  as  a 
source  o<  knowledge,  408;  and  did  not  a»- 
similate  Reflection  to  Sen.se,  ib  ;  his  divis- 
ion of  the  cognitive  phenomena,  ib. ;  Intel- 
lect, according  to  him,  has  tliree  functions, 
—  1.  Intellectual  apprehension.  409;  2.  Re- 
flection, 410;  3  Reasoning,  ib. ;  415.  See  Con 
servative  Faculty 

GKFiJHL,  ambiguous,  562.     See  Feeling 

Geneualizatiox,  .tee  Elaborative  Faculty. 

General  notions,  see  Elaborative  Faculty. 

Genovesi,272,  distinguished  Perception  from 
Sensation,  334,  513;  ou  pleasure,  598. 

Gerard  (Alexander),  on  laws  of  Association, 
480. 

(iKRUZEZ,  56,  75. 

(iLANDULyE  Paccihoni.  wliat,  656;  argument 
against  phrenology  derived  from,  ib 

Gleig  (Bishop),  his  opinion  of  Reid's  pole- 
mic on  perception,  298. 

Gnoseologia,  what,  86. 

Gnostologia,  fee  Gnoseologia. 

GocLENius,  Rudolphus,  the  first  to  apply  the 
term  p.^yrhology  to  a  treatise  relative  to  the 
human  mind,  96, 163. 

Gorgias,  the  sophist,  204. 

GOVEANUS,  Antonius,  513. 

Grammar,  why  usually  designated  an  art, 
81,  83;  universal  or  philosophical,  a  nomo- 
logical  science,  87- 

Grammarian,  John  the,  see  Philoponus. 

Gray.  (|uoted,  433. 

Greek  language,  e.xample  of  its  perfection, 
123;  expresses  syntactical  relations  by  flex- 
ion, 176 

Gregory  (Dr.  James),  his  great  memory,  426. 

Gregory,  of  Rimini,  176.  270,  316 

Gregory,  of  Kazianzuni,  quoted,  433 

G  reoory,  of  Nyssa,  quoted  on  mental  pow- 
ers, 270. 

Gkegorovips,  quoted  on  memory  of  Guidi, 
423. 

Gri.mm,  95. 

Gkotius,  his  great  memory,  425 

Gruithuisen,  377. 

GuiDi,  Giulio,  his  great  memory,  425. 

Gruyer,  262. 

Habit,  what,  124;  acquired  habits,  three  the- 
ories of,  viz  :  the  mechanical,  theory  of 
consciousness  without  memory,  and  the 
theory  of  latency,  247-9,  255-7;  explained 
in  accordance  with  analogy  by  theory  of 
mental  latency,  257. 

Halle,  i)o.stman  of,  case  of,  showing  that 
the  mind  is  active  while  body  asleep,  233. 

IIal»er,  233 

Hartley,  his  theory  of  habit,  mechanical. 
247. 

Hartleian  School,  380. 


INDEX 


'05 


IIavet,  his  edition  of  Pascal's  Pensces,  re- 
ferred to,  387. 

Uegel,  referred  to  on  definition  of  philoso- 
pliy,  30,  45. 

Heinsius,  413. 

Helvetius,  quoted  on  the  influence  of  pre- 
conceived opinions,  54, 178-9,  see  Attention. 

11em.«tei!iiui8,  103,516;  referred  to  on  Beauty, 
026. 

Hkxry,  of  Ghent,  his  doctrine  of  mental 
powers,  272. 

IIeuac'Lides  Ponticus,  34. 

llEEACLITUS,  03,  352. 

HKRHAirr,  501,  570,  see  Feelings. 

Hep.mi.e,  see  Animonius. 

llEUoixjTUS,  uses  tlie  verb  <pi\o<TO(l)i7tf,  34, 60. 

11euv.ei;.s,  176,  292. 

IIekz,  Marcus,  618. 

Uesjod,  quoted,  630. 

Hierocles,  114;  his  employment  of  cvvaitr- 
bT)Ois,  176. 

HlLAIUE,  St.,  415. 

JliLLEBiiAxu,  570,  see  Feelings. 

Iliri'o(  T.ATKs,  alleged  expression  of,  quoted, 
34;  writing  in  which  it  occurs  spurious,  ib. 

IlisTOuicAL  KnoAvledge,  see  Empirical  and 
Knowledge. 

HoBBE.si,  iiuotcd  on  definition  of  philosopliy, 
35;  a  material  idealist,  309;  quoted  on  the 
traiu  of  thouglit,  428;  a  nominalist,  477, 
540. 

IIOCKER,  108. 

Hoffbal-eu,  maintained  that  great  intelli- 
gence sui)poses  great  memory,  426. 

Ho.MEu,  (juoted,  37,  262.      ' 

HO.M.MEL,  03. 

Horace,  (juoted,  125,  433,  513. 

HoiiTE>sii:s,  his  great  memory,  426. 

HuBXEK,  distinguished  Vital  Sense  from  Or- 
ganic Senses,  377. 

Hugo  a  Sancto  Victore,  316. 

Huss,  01. 

HcME,  quoted  on  te.-timony  of  consciousness 
in  Perception,  201,  348;  his  nihilism  a  .skep- 
tical conclusion  from  the  premises  of  pre- 
vious philosophers,  470;  doubts  the  tnitli 
of  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  our 
mental  unity,  259;  his  skepticism,  its  mean- 
ing, use,  and  results,  642  ft  Sf.q. ;  quoted 
as  to  ground  of  rejecting  the  testimony  of 
consciousness  in  Perception,  3.58;  on  laws 
of  Association,  4.30;  (|Uoted  on  Imagina- 
tion, 4.J5;  quoleil  on  Nominalism,  477,  483, 
022,  see  Kegulative  Faculty;  641,  5(r«  ibid.: 
refuted  attempts  to  establish  the  principle 
of  Causality  on  that  of  Contradiction,  5'1<). 

HuTciiESON,  regarded  Consciousness  as  a 
siiecial  faculty.  144:  distinguishcil  Percep- 
tion from  .Sensation,  3.'J-I;  (juoted  on  divis- 
ion of  senses  into  live.  377,  579;  ijuoted  and 
COinmen<led  on  Association,  012;  on  Abso- 
lute and  lielalive  Deauty,  024. 


Ilvi'OTHKPis,  what,  117;  first  condition  of  a 
legitimate,  ib.;  second,  119;  see  also  .302  tt 
seq. ;  criteria  of  good  and  bad,  119. 

Iamblichus,  quoted  on  mental  powers,  271. 

Idealis.m,  Cosmofhetic,  what,  205;  embraces 
the  majority  of  modern  philosoiiliers,  ib.; 
its  subdivisions,  j6.,  see  Consciousness;  ab- 
sohite,  how  a  philosophical  system  is  often 
prevented  from  falling  into,  206. 

Identity,  law  of,  679. 

I.MAGixATiON,  see  Representative  Faculty. 

Im.mediate  Knowledge,  see  Knowledge. 

Incompuepsibilitv,  ultimate  law  of,  whence 
derived,  553. 

Inulction,  what,  72;  a  synthetic  process,  73; 
inductive  metliod,  notice  of  its  emjiloymcnt 
in  philosophy,  403;  inductive  reasoning,  509. 

IinFIXITE,  see  Kegulative  Faculty. 

IxFLUESCE,  term  brought  into  common  use 
by  Suarez,  213;  injlii.rus,  first  used  in  the 
p.seudo-Aristotelic  treatise  De  Causis,  ib. 

Intuitive  Knowledge,  sy  Knowledge. 

Ionic  School,  73,  74. 

Iren^US,  quoted  on  mental  powers,  270. 

luwiNO,  163. 

I.'SiDORU!',  quoted  on  mental  powers,  270. 

Itamc  School,  74. 

Jacobi,  quoted,  27,  29,  202;  holds  a  doctrine 
of  Perception  analogous  to  that  of  Reid, 
285,  514. 

Jandcncs,  on  Touch,  376. 

Jaudixe,  I'rofessor,  noticed,  638;  quoted  on 
the  best  method  of  determining  merit  in  a 
class  of  philosophy,  ib.,  et  seq. 

Jeffuey  (Francis),  noticed  on  Association, 
012. 

Jerome,  of  Prague,  61. 

Joiixso.N,  Samuel,  quoted  on  love  of  action, 
604. 

JoxsoN,  Ben,  his  great  memory,  426. 

JofFFiiOY,  (juoted  in  sujiport  of  the  author's 
doctrine  that  the  mind  is  never  wholly  in- 
active, and  that  we  are  never  wholly  un 
conscious  of  its  activity,  and  of  sundry 
other  conclusions,  220  et  seq.;  holds  that 
the  mind  is  fre(iuently  awake  when  the 
senses  are  asleep,  ib.;  thinks  it  prolialile 
that  the  mind  is  always  awake,  ib  ;  gives 
induction  of  facts  in  support  of  this  con- 
clusion, 226  ft  seq.;  gives  analysis  and  ex- 
planation of  the  pli.Tnotncna  adduced,  227 
et  stq.  ■  holds  distraction  and  non-distrac- 
tion matters  of  intelligcucc,  228;  applies 
foi-egoing  analysis  to  ph,aM\omonn  of  sleejv 
229;  his  doctrine  illustrated  by  jiersonal 
e.xjK'rience,  2.311  et  srq  .  by  exiH'rience  of 
those  attendant  on  the  sick,  2C1 ;  by  awak- 
ening at  an  appointed  hour,  tb.;  Iiis  genera, 
conclusions.  232  tt  seq.;  his  theory  corrobo- 
rated by  the  cajw;  of  the  postman  of  lialle. 


89 


T06 


INDEX. 


ib.,  et  stq. ;  belonged  to  the  Scoto-Gallican 

School  of  Philosophy,  645. 
Judgment,  see  Elaborative  Faculty. 
Juvenal,  quoted,  513,  636. 

K JS9TKEU,  560,  see  Feelings;  quoted  on  Des- 
cartes' doctrine  of  pleasure,  591. 

Kamks,  referred  to  on  question  of  mental 
latency,  252;  quoted  on  utility  of  Abstrac- 
tion, 470. 

Kant,  (luoted,  28;  referred  to  on  definition 
of  philosophy,  35,  41,  48;  his  anticipation 
of  the  discovery  of  Uranus,  49;  his  division 
of  pliilosophy,  84,  99;  admits  the  fact  of  the 
testimony  of  consciousness  in  perception, 
202,  208;  maintains  that  we  are  always  con- 
sciously active,  222,  252;  doubts  the  truth 
of  the  testimony  of  consciousness  to  our 
Mental  Unity,  259;  and  to  our  Mental  Iden- 
tity, 260;  a  Scotchman  by  descent,  643;  his 
philosophy'originated  in  a  recoil  against 
the  skepticism  of  Hume,  643-4;  his  doctiine 
of  space  and  time,  647-8,  271;  enunciated 
the  law  by  which  Perception  and  Sensation 
are  governed  in  their  reciprocal  relations, 
333;  divides  the  senses  into  two, —  Sensus 
Vagus  and  Sensus  Fixus,  377,  402,  see  Heces- 
sity;  quoted  on  proper  application  of  term 
Abstraction,  474,  561,  569, 598;  on  Beauty,  625. 
.see  Feelings;  quoted,  630;  see  ibid.;  his  anal- 
ysis of  judgments,  681. 

Keckermann,  distinguished  Reflexion  from 
Observation,  262,  513. 

Kepler,  53. 

Know  thyself,  27. 

Knowledge,  discriminated  from  intellectual 
cultivation,  5;  whether  knowledge  or  men- 
tal exercise  the  superior  end,  considered, 
6  ;  popular  solution  of  this  question,  —  that 
knowledge  is  the  higher  end,  —  and  its  re- 
sults, 6;  knowledge  either  practical  or  spec- 
ulative, 7;  the  end  of  practical  knowledge, 
ib.;  the  end  of  speculative  knowledge,  ib. ; 
the  question  resolved  by  philosophers  in 
contradiction  to  the  ordinary  opinion,  8; 
this  contradiction  even  involved  in  the  term 
Philosopliy,  ib. ;  authorities  adduced  as  to 
mental  exercise  being  higher  than  knowl- 
edge,—  Plato,  Prior,  Arisfotle,  Aquinas, 
Scotus,  Malebranche,  Lessing,  Von  3Iuller, 
Jean  I'aul  Kichter,  9;  knowledge  philo- 
sophical, scientific  or  rational,  and  empiri- 
cal or  historical  discriminated,  38 — 40;  em- 
pirical, the  knowledge  that  a  thing  is, — 
rb  0T(,  39;  examples  of,  40;  this  expression 
how  rendered  in  Latin,  ib.,  see  Empirical; 
philosophical,  the  knowledge  why  or  how 
a  thing  is,  ib. :  man's  knowledge  relative, 
43,  96 — 104,  the  representation  of  multitude 
in  unity,  47,  see  Unity;  faculties  of,  one 
grand  division  of  powers  of  mind,  86;  tes- 
liinonies  to  relativity  of,— Aristotle,  Au- 


gustin,  Melanchthon,  elder  Scaliger,  98-9, 
all  existence  not  comprised  in  what  is 
relative  to  us,  99;  this  principle  lia^s  two 
branches,  ib.;  the  first,  100;  the  second, 
102-3;  three  senses  in  which  knowledge 
relative,  104;  two  opposite  series  of  expres- 
sions applied  to,  (6.;  faculty  of,  regarded 
by  some  philosophers  as  the  fundamental 
power  of  mind,  129;  distribution  of  th« 
special  faculties  of,  267  et  seq.:  the  .special 
faculties  of,  evolved  out  of  consciousness, 
273;  enumeration  of  the  special  faculties 
of,  ib.  et  seq  ,283-4;  a  priori  and  ajiosteriori. 
285;  relation  of  to  experience,  how  best  ex- 
pressed, ih.:  special  faculties  of,  considered 
in  detail,  286  et  seq. ;  the  distinction  of  In- 
tuitive or  Immediate,  and  Representative 
or  Mediate  Knowledge,  313  et  seq.,  and  151; 
the  contrasts  between  these  two  kinds  of, 
315;  this  distinction  taken  by  certain  of  the 
schoolmen,  316;  that  the  relation  of  knowl- 
edge supposes  a  similarity,  or  sameness, 
between  subject  and  object  an  influential 
principle  in  philosophy,  351;  the  oi)posite 
of  this  principle  held  by  some,  352;  refuted, 
ib.,  et  seq.;  the  essential  peculiarities  of 
knowledge,  572  et  seq. 

Knowledges,  term  used  by  Bacon  and  Ser- 
geant, 41. 

Krug,  34;  on  definition  of  philosophy,  35; 
attacked  the  Kantian  division  of  the  men- 
tal phenomena,  129,  564,  see  Feelings. 

KUSTER,  138. 

Labouliniere,  380. 

Lactantius,  his  doctrine  of  mental  powers 
270,  291 ;  denied  the  necessity  of  visual  spe- 
cies, ib 

Laertius,  Diogenes,  34,  81 ;  uses  awSeffis 
for  consciousness,  138. 

Language,  Does  it  originate  in  (General  Ap- 
pellatives or  by  Proper  JCames?  492  et  seq.; 
this  the  question  of  the  Primum  Cognittim, 
493;  1.  That  all  terms,  as  at  first  employed, 
are  expressive  of  individual  objects,  main- 
tained by  Vives  and  others,  ih. :  Vives 
quoted  to  this  eifect,  ib. :  Locke  quoted, 
ib. ;  Adam  Smith  quoted  to  same  effect,  494; 

2.  An  opposite  doctrine  maintained  by 
many  of  the  schoolmen,  496  et  seq.;  br 
Campanella,  496;  Leibnitz  quoted  to  this 
effect,  lb.;  Turgot  cited  to  same  effect.  497; 

3.  A  third  or  intermediate  opinion.  — that 
language  at  first  expresses  only  the  vague 
and  confused,  ib.,  et  seq.:  Perception  com- 
mences with  masses.  498,  see  also  371;  the 
mind  in  elaborating  its  knowledge  pro- 
ceeds by  analysis  from  the  whole  to  the 
partg,  498,  .501;  Degerando.  quoted  to  this 
effect,  499;  the  intt  rmcdiate  opinion  main- 
tained by  Aristotle,  5(X>;  and  by  Julius 
Cajsar  Scaliger.  ib. 


* 


INDEX. 


707 


Laromiouiere,  quoted  on  hypothesis  of 
Occasioual  Causes,  209  et  seq. ;  on  I're- 
established  Ilarniouy,  210  el  seq.;  on  I'las- 
tic  Mfdiuui,  211;  on  Physical  Influence,  212 
et  seq  ;  quoted  On  abstraction,  468 

Latency,  mental,  wliat,  and  its  three  de- 
grees, 235  tt  ieq.     .See  Consciousness. 

Latin  language,  expresses  syntactical  rela- 
tions by  flexion,  176. 

Laval,  Comtesse  de,  case  of,  238 

Law,  Hisliop,  liis  doctrine  of  substance,  108. 

Le  Clerc,  see  Clerc 

Lee  (Dr   Henry),  referred  to  on  Locke,  407. 

Lkibmtz,  referred  to  on  delinition  of  phi- 
losophy, 35,  48,  95;  first  to  limit  the  term 
capacity  to  j)assivity  of  mind,  123;  regarded 
faculty  of  knowledge  as  the  fundamental 
power  of  mind,  129:  quoted  on  veracity  of 
consciousness,  184,208;  held  liypotliesis  of 
l'reestabli.shed  Harmony,  208,  210;  opposed 
Locke's  doctrine  that  the  mind  is  not  al- 
ways conscious,  221;  but  does  not  precisely 
answer  tlie  question  mooted,  ib. ;  reterred 
to  on  minima  of  sense,  244 ;  the  first  to  pro- 
claim the  doctrine  of  mental  latency,  251; 
unfortunate  in  the  terms  he  employed  to 
designate  the  latent  modifications  of  mind, 
t6.  ,•  referred  to  on  our  mental  identity,  2tj0, 
271,  280,  404,  see  Ji'ecessity ;  414,  496,  see  Lan- 
guage; 513,  515,  see  Begulative  Faculty; 
592,  see  Feelings. 

Leidenfisost,  370;  the  first  to  distinguish 
the  Vital  Sense  from  the  Organic  Senses, 
377. 

Leo  Mebrxus,  290. 

Lesping,  quoted,  9.     See  Knowledge. 

Lewd,  its  etymology,  53. 

LilsEiiTY  (if  Will,  556  et  seq. ;  the  question  of, 
as  viewed  by  the  Scottish  school,  692;  may 
be  dealt  with  in  two  ways,  693. 

LiCIIETUS,  176. 

LocKK,  51;  adopted  (iassendi's  division  of 
j)hilosophy,  84:  ((Unted  on  jiower,  121-2;  his 
doctrine  of  lieflexiou  as  a  source  of  knowl- 
edge, 162,  held  that  the  mind  cannot  exist 
at  the  same  moment  in  two  diflerent  states, 
173;  his  <loctrine  on  this  point  ix'futed  by 
lA-ibiiitz,  i/j  :  denied  that  the  mind  is  al- 
ways conscious,  218-19;  liis  a.«suniption  that 
cousciousncss  and  the  recollection  of  con- 
sciousness are  convertible,  disproved  by 
somiianibulism,  222;  erroneously  attributed 
the  doctrine  of  latent  mental  modilieatioiis 
to  the  Cartesians,  260;  on  nn/ntal  identity, 
260;  his  doctrine  of  I'erception,  304;  gen- 
eral character  of  his  (ihilosophical  style, 
305;  quoted  on  the  doctrine  that  the  sec- 
ondary qualities  of  matter  are  merely  men- 
tal state.",  307;  his  distinction  of  primary 
and  secondary  qualities,  343;  did  not  origi- 
nate the  question  regarding  plurality  of 
senses  under  Touch,  376,  391;  neglected  the 


Critical  Method  in  philosophy,  403;  has  his 
philosophy  been  misrepresented  by  Con- 
dillac?  404  et  seq.;  Stewart,  quoted  in  vin 
dication  of,  404-6;  Stewart's  vindication 
of,  unsatisfactory,  406;  Coudillac  justified 
in  his  simplification  of  the  doctrine  of.  ib.; 
his  Kefleetion  compatible  with  .Sensualism, 
ib.,  466;  (juoted  on  Conceptualism,  477:49.3, 
I       *?e  Language;  542,  .<<>e  Causality  ;  546. 

Logic,  defined,  31,  87;  as  initiative  course  of 
philosophy,  31,  90;  class  of,  how  to  be  con- 
ducted, 10,  11,  see  Philosophy;  presupposes 
a  certain  knowledge  of  the  operations  of 
the  mind,  44;  controversy  among  the  an- 
cients regarding  its  relation  to  philosophy, 
81;  why  usually  designated  an  an,  83;  a 
nomological  science,  87;  Dianoetic  beet 
name  of.  ib.;  its  place  in  philosophy,  and 
in  a  course  of  philosophical  instruction,  90. 

Lombard,  Peter,  316. 

Lossics,  Lexikon,  546,  573,  601. 

LucAN,  quoted,  606. 

LuritETius,  quoted,  184,  212,  293,  6i39;  on 
mixed  feeling  of  the  sublime,  630. 

LcDERS,  578. 

Luther,  61,  63. 

Lydus,  Priscianus,  on  unity  of  knowledge, 
48;  the  Platonic  doctrine  of  Perception  as 
expounded  by,  293. 

MAAS9,  252. 

Mackintosh,  Sir  James,  92;  his  great  mem- 
ory, 426 

Macrobius,  referred  to,  on  definition  of  phi- 
losophy, 37, 114. 

Maine  de  liiran,  474,  542.  see  Causality. 

Ma.jor,  .John,  referred  to,  on  Intuitive  and 
Abstractive  Knowledge,  316 

Malkbkancue,  9,  64,  108,  li)3;  quoted  on 
place  and  importance  of  attention,  130 
et  seq. ;  the  study  of  his  writings  recom- 
mended, 182,  201;  a.ssunies  our  conscious- 
ness in  sleep,  218,  271;  his  doctrine  of  Ptr- 
ception,302;  distinguished  Perception  lYoiu 
Sensation,  334,  513,  642,  see  Causality. 

Man,  an  end  unto  himself,  4;  must  in  gen- 
eral reduce  himself  to  an  instrument,  4: 
perfection  and  happiness,  the  two  absolute 
ends  of  man,  14;  these  ends  coincide,  ib.; 
his  distinctive  characteristic,  21:  a  social 
animal,  59;  men  influence  each  other  in 
times  l)oth  ol  tranquillity  and  social  con- 
vulsion, 61;  relation  of  the  indi\  idual  to 
social  crises,  ib. 

Manilius,  quoted,  120.  4*30. 

Mantdanup,  Bnp..  quoted.  6.36. 

MANfTiue,  Pauliis,  (luoted  on  memory  of 
.^folino,  423. 

JlAiti'Ei-LUSi,  Nonius,  353. 

Maksilius,  (of  Inglien),  176,  292. 

Martial,  quoted,  460. 

MAi;TiNfS  Scriblerus,  quoted,  467- 


708 


INDEX. 


Mapteu  of  Sentences,  see  Lombard 

JIatkrialism,  absolute,  Iiow  a  philosophical 
system  is  often  prevented  from  tailing  into, 
206. 

Mayxettus  Maynetius,  447. 

Mazure,  9,  35. 

Mediate  Knowledge,  see  Knowledge. 

Meinei:?.  S4,  61.  560,  598. 

Melamiitiion. 98, 108,513;  "cognitio  omnis 
iiituilivu  est  definitiva,"  quoted  by,  562. 

Memory,  sec  Conservative  Faculty. 

Menage,  :33,  138. 

Mendelssohx,  Moses,  561,  see  Feelings ; 
quoted  on  Descartes'  doctrine  of  pleasure 
591,594,S''e  Feelings;  referred  to  on  Beauty, 
626. 

Mexdoza,  485. 

Mental  phaenomena,  see  Consciousness  and 
Mind. 

Mental  E.xercise,  higher  than  the  mere 
knowledge  of  truth,  6 — 9.     See  Knowledge. 

^JlETAi'HY.'iiCAL,  see  Metaphysics. 

Metaphysics,  science  of,  its  sphere  in 
wide.st  sense,  85;  comprehension  and  or- 
der of  author's  course  of,  85,  90;  Meta- 
physics proper,  Ontology  or  Inferential 
Psychology,  wliat,  88;  metaphysical  terms 
originally  of  physical  application,  93.  &# 
Psychology  and  Philosophy. 

Method,  what,  68.     See  Critical  Method. 

Methodists,  the,  a  sect  of  physicians,  no- 
ticed, 38. 

Mill,  James,  quoted  to  the  effect  that  we 
first  obtain  a  knowledge  of  the  parts  of 
the  object  in  perception,  369  et  seg. 

Milton,  quoted,  433. 

Mind,  human,  the  noblest  object  of  specula- 
tion, 17;  Phavorinus,  Pope,  Sir  Thomas 
Browne,  quoted  to  this  effect,  18;  when 
the  study  of  mind  rises  to  its  highest  dig- 
nity, ib  ;  its  phEEUomeua  contrasted  with 
those  of  matter,  20;  this  the  philosophical 
study  by  preeminence,  44,  see  Philosophy 
and  Psychology;  its  phenomena  distrib- 
uted into  three  grand  classes,  86,  see  Con- 
sciousness; etymology  and  application  of, 
109;  can  be  defined  only  a  posteriori,  ib.: 
thus  defined  by  Aristotle  and  Keid,  110; 
•can  exist  in  more  than  one  state  at  the 
¥ame  time,  173  et  seq.;  hypotheses  proposed 
in  regard  to  mode  of  intercourse  between 
Hiind  and  body,  208  et  seq. ;  1.  Occasional 
Cau,*es,  ib. ;  2.  Pree.stablished  Harmony, 
210;  3  Plastic  Medium,  211;  4.  Physical 
Influence,  212;  historical  order  of  these 
hypotheses,  ib.;  they  are  unphilosophical, 
214;  activity  and  passivity  always  con- 
joined in  manifestations  of  mind,  216,  see 
Consciousness;  terms  indicative  of  the  jire- 
domiuance  of  these  counter  elements  in, 
216-17;  opinions  in  regard  to  its  relation  to 
the  bodily  orgauism  and  parts  of  nervous 


system,  649-50  et  seq. ;  its  powers  not  realljr 
distinguishable  from  the  thinking  princi- 
jde,  nor  really  different  from  each  other, 
267;  what  meant  by  powers  of,  and  the  rel- 
atative  opinion  of  philosophers,  268 — 272j[_ 
psychological  division  of  the  phenomena 
of  what,  273;  phaenomena  of,  presented  in 
complexity,  281;  three  rules  of  the  analy- 
sis of  the  phaenomena  of,  282;  these  rule* 
have  not  been  observed  by  psychologists, 
ib. ;  no  ground  to  suppose  that  the  mind  is 
situated  solely  in  any  one  part  of  the  body, 
356;  we  materialize  mind  in  attributing  to 
it  the  relations  of  matter,  ib  ;  sum  of  our 
knowledge  of  the  connection  of  mind  and 
body,  357;  we  are  not  warranted,  accord- 
ing to  Biunde,  to  ascribe  to  the  jiowers  of 
mind  a  direction  either  outwards  or  in- 
wards, 565.     See  Energy. 

JIiNiMU.M  visibile,  what,  243;  audibile,  ib 

Mnemonic,  86 

jiocenicus,  163. 

3IODE.  what,  106. 

.Modification,  what,  106. 

3IOLIN.EUS,  68. 

MoLSA,  quoted,  434. 

Monboddo,  Lord,  128,  238;  his  doctrine  of 

vision,  291,  354. 
Monism,  see  Consciousness. 
Monro,  Dr.  (tertius).  quoted  and  referred  to 

in  reference  to  Frontal  Sinus,  670,  673,  etc. 
Montaigne,  46,  60,  63;  on  pleasure,  590,  see 

Feelings. 
More,  Dr.'llenry,  quoted,  23. 
Morton,  Dr  ,  remarks  on  his  tables  on  the 

size  of  the  brain,  660—662. 
MtJLLER  (Julius),  387 

MiJLLER,  Von,  quoted,  9.     See  Knowledge. 
Muratori,  his  great  memory,  426. 
MURETUS,  421.     See  Conservative  Faculty. 
Mussulman  doctors,  542.    See  Causality. 

Natur,  its  meaning  in  German  philosophy, 
29. 

Natural  Dualism,  see  Natural  Realism 

Necessity,  all  necessity  to  us  subjective,  403; 
Leibnitz  the  first  to  announce  it  as  the  cri- 
terion of  truth  native  to  the  mind,  404; 
Kant  the  first  who  fully  applied  this  crite- 
rion, ib.     See  Regulative  Faculty. 

Nemesius,  176,  6.50. 

Newton,  Sir  Isaac,  178, 180.     See  Attention. 

Niethammer,  424. 

Nihilism,  see  Consciousness. 

Noetic,  how  to  be  employed.  514. 

NoMiNALLSM,  see  Elaborative  Faculty. 

Nominalists,  their  doctrine  of  mental  pow- 
ers, 272;  rejected  doctrine  of  sjjecies,  292. 

N0MOL9GY  of  mind,  what,  86;  its  subdivis- 
ions, ib.;  of  the  Cognitive  faculties,  ib. ; 
of  the  Feelings.  87 ;  of  the  Couative  pow- 
ers, 16. 


INDEX 


'09 


NOOLOGY,  87 

Non-Contradiction,  law  of,  526,  680;  limits 
of  argument  from,  680;  lias  two  applica- 
tions, a  Logical  aud  Psychological,  680. 

Nof/s,  614. 

KUNNKSIUS,  513. 

NuNNKLEY,  referred  to  for  case  of  couching, 
391. 

Ob.ject,  meaning  and  history  of  the  term, 

112.     S«  Subject. 
Ob.jective,  see  Subject. 
Occam,  176;  his  doctrine  of  mental  powers, 

272. 
Occasional  Causes,  hypothe-sis  of,  see  Mind; 

by  whom  maintained,  208.  214. 
Oken.  his  nihilism,  204. 
Olymimodohus,  referred  to,  46;  referred  to 

on  mental  powers,  271. 
Ontology,  see  Metaphysics. 
Operation,  wliat,  124. 
Opinion,  see  Custom. 
Opouinus,  case  of,  showing  that  one  sense 

may  be  asleep  while  others  are  awake,  233. 
Orectk',  term  objectionable  as  common  des- 
ignation botli  of  will  aud  desire,  126. 
Order,  what,  68. 
Organic  I'leasure.     See  Feelings. 
Ormond,  Duke  of,  607. 
Ovid,  rjuoted,  262,  533;  on  pleasure  of  grief, 

606. 
OviEDo,  on  excitation  of  species,  428. 

Pain,  theory  of,  see  Feelings. 

I'ainful  Atfections.     See  Feelings. 

1'alkv,  quoted  on  love  of  action,  405. 

Paludanus,  317. 

Pascal,  46,  60,  62;  quoted  on  man's  igno- 
rance of  himself,  214;  quoted,  377;  his 
great  memory,  425;  quoted  on  dreaming, 
457,  513,  528. 

Passions,  their  place  in  education.  12;  sub- 
jugation of,  practical  condition  of  philoso- 
phy, 67,  66.     See  I'hilosoijhy. 

Pastimks,  617.     &/>  Feelings. 

Patricius,  quoted  on  mental  powers,  271; 
his  expression  of  the  n-lation  of  our  knowl- 
edge to  e.\i)erience,  quoted,  285. 

I>E.Mi!ROKG,  Lord,  607. 
^  Perception,  K.xternal,  the  doctrine  of,  a 
■^J^  cardinal  point  in  philosophy,  2'J7:  histori- 
cal survey  of  hypotheses  in  regard  to,  pro- 
posed, 286;  principal  point  in  regard  to,  on 
which  philosophers  differ,  I'A.,  and  205;  two 
grand  hypothe.ses  of  Mediate  Perception, 
287;  each  of  these  admits  of  various  sub- 
ordinate hypotheses,  i';.  ,■  Rcid  did  not  dis- 
tinguish the  two  forms  of  the  Kepreseiita- 
tive  Hypothesis,  288;  Reid's  historical  view 
of  the  theories  of  criticised,  280  et  setj.,  298; 
wrong  in  regard  to  the  Platonic  theory  of, 
2S9-90;  his  account  of  the  Aristotelic  doc- 


trine of,  291-2;  theory  of  Democritus  and 
Epicurus,  293:  the  Cartesian  doctrine  of 
294  el  sfc^.,299;  Malebranclie  cited  in  regard 
to  opinion  of  Descartes  on,  301;  Keiii's  ac- 
count of  the  opinion  of  Malebranclie  on, 
302;  of  Arnauld,  302-3;  of  Locke.  :}'«—»)7-, 
opinions  of  Xewton,  Clarke,  Hook.  Xortis, 
S07;  of  llobbes,  308;  Le  Clerc,  309;  Crousaz 
310;  ends  proposed  in  the  review  of  Reid'8 
account  of  opinions  on,  311;  Reid  right  in 
attributing  to  philosoi)liers  in  general  the 
cruder  doctrine  of  Representative  Percep 
tion,  312;  was  Reid  a  Natural  Realist,  li, 
et  seq.,  see  Reid  aud  Knowledge;  distinc 
tion  of  Perception  I'roper  from  Sensation 
Proper,  3;?2  et  ser/  ;  use  of  term  yiTt'iiiioH 
previously  to  Reid,  ih  :  historical  notice  of 
the  distinction  of  perception  proper  from 
sensation  proper,  334;  nature  of  the  phic 
nomena. — perception  and  sensation,  illus- 
trated, 3.'35  et  seq  :  their  contrast  the  special 
manifestation  of  a  contrast  which  >iivides 
Knowledge  and  Feeling,  i6.  ,■  perception 
and  sensation  precisely  distinguished,  it.; 
grand  law  by  which  the  ijha-nomeua  of  per- 
ception and  sensation  are  governed  in  their 
reciprocal  relations,  3.3t');  this  law  estab- 
lished aud  illustrated  —  1  From  a  compari- 
son of  the  several  senses,  ib. ;  2.  From  the 
several  impressions  of  the  same  sense,  337; 
distinction  of  perception  from  sensation  of 
importance  only  in  the  doctrine  of  Intui- 
tive Perception,  340;  no  reference  fri>m  the 
internal  to  the  external  in.  341 :  taken  out 
of  the  list  of  the  primary  faculties  through 
a  false  analysis,  ib.;  the  possibility  of  an 
immediate  perception  of  external  objects 
intelligible,  356  et  set/. :  what  meant  by  i)er- 
ceiving  the  material  reality,  357;  the  total 
and  real  object  in,  ib.:  what  meant  by  th« 
external  object  i)ercelve(l,  i6.,  374:  nothing 
especially  inconceivalile  in  the  doctrine  of 
an  immediate  perception,  35'^:  principal 
points  of  difference  between  the  author's 
doctrine  of  Perception  and  that  of  Reid 
and  Stewart,  397  et  seq.:  1.  In  regard  to 
the  relation  of  the  external  object  to  the 
senses,  ib.;  2.  In  regard  to  the  number  and 
consecution  of  the  elementary  phajnomena, 
398  et  seq.:  common  doctrine  of  philoso- 
phers regarding  the  organic  imiiression  in, 
ib.:  relation  of  sensation  proper  to  |K'rcep- 
tion  proper,  3il9.  sec  also  67S;  Repro.-enta- 
tive  Perception,  hypothesis  ol,  3>'A  tt  stq.; 
violates  all  the  conditions  of  a  legitimate 
hypothesis,  I'f,  rr  .«r(7..-  1.  Liinecessaiy.  .'iiS; 
2.  Subverts  that  which  it  is  deviseil  to  ex- 
plain, 3<J3;  3,  The  fact  in  explanation  of 
which  it  is  devised  is  hypothetical,  i*  ; 
4.  Sunders  and  subvert,*  the  ph.aMiomenou 
to  Ik-  explained,  3»i6;  5  The  fact  which  it 
is  devised  to  explain  transcends  exiK-rieucc 


710 


INDEX. 


366;  6.  Dependent  on  subsidiary  hypothe- 
ses, 367;  considerations  effective  in  pro- 
moting the  doctrine  of,  677  ;  questions 
connected  with  faculty  of  External  I'er- 
ception,  368  et  seq. ;  I.  Whether  we  first  ob- 
tain a  knowledge  of  the  whole  or  of  the 
parts  of  the  object  in,  ib  ,  et  ieq. ;  the  sec- 
ond alternative  adopted  by  Stewart,  ib.  ,• 
and  by  James  Mill,  369;  the  counter  alter- 
native maintained  by  the  author,  371  et  seq., 
497;  II-  Problems  connected  with  Sense  of 
Touch,  372  et  seq. ;  see  Touch ;  III.  Two  coun- 
ter questions  regarding  sphere  of  Sight, 
379  et  seq.      See  Sight. 

Perfect,  the,  what,  622     See  Ends. 

Peripatetics,  see  Aristotelians. 

Perron,  Du,  Cardinal,  a  patron  of  Scotch- 
men abroad,  641. 

Perpius,  533. 

Petrarch,  quoted,  606. 

Ph.«drus,  513. 

Phenomenon,  meaning  of,  best  illustrated 
by  reference  to  the  relativity  of  human 
knowledge,  96, 106, 108. 

Ph.enomenology,  of  mind,  what,  86.  See 
Psychology. 

Phavokixus,  quoted,  17.     See  Mind. 

Philoponus,  81;  his  doctrine  of  conscious- 
ness, 1.3.8;  quoted  in  paraphrase  of  Aris- 
totle. 174;  quoted  on  mental  powers,  271; 
quoted  on  Aristotle's  doctrine  of  species, 
293;  on  Touch,  376. 

Philosopher,  see  Philosophy. 

Philosophical,  see  Philosophy  and  Knowl- 
edge 

Philosophy,  the  exhibition  of  its  benefits 
and  pleasures,  why  peculiarly  requisite,  1 ; 
its  utility  of  two  kinds  —  Absolute  and  Re- 
lative, 2;  its  absolute  utility  of  two  kinds- 
Subjective  and  Objective,  2, 16;  its  Subjec- 
tive utility,  16;  best  gymnastic  of  the  mind, 
and  therefore  best  entitled  to  the  appella- 
tion use/id,  9;  principles  on  which  a  class 
of  philo.sophy  ought  to  be  conducted,  10; 
use  and  imi)ortance  of  examinations  in  a 
class  of  philosophy,  12;  intellectual  in- 
structor must  seek  to  influence  the  will  of 
his  pupils,  ib. ;  and  to  excite  their  feelings, 
ib.;  Objective  utility  of  philosophy,  17  et 
teq.:  its  relation  to  theology,  18;  the  class 
of  phenomena  which  imply  the  existence 
of  God  exclusively  given  by  the  mind,  19; 
what  these  pha;nomena  are,  21;  first  con- 
dition of  the  proof  of  a  Deity  drawn 
from  philosophy,  22;  second  condition  also 
drawn  from  same  source,  23;  how  philoso- 
phy operates  in  establishing  an  assurance 
of  human  liberty,  24;  coincidence  of  au- 
thor's views  on  this  subject  with  those  of 
previous  philosophers,  27—9;  philosophers 
adduced,  — Plato,  27;  Kant,  28;  Jacobi,  29; 
objective  utility  of  philosophy  not  super- 


seded by  the  Christian  Revelation,  ib., 
Nature  and  Comprehension  of  philosoph7, 
31  et  seq.;  to  be  adequately  comprehended 
only  in  the  end  of  a  course  of  philosophical 
instruction,  ib.;  meaning  of  the  name,  32; 
the  name  philosopher  said  to  have  been  first 
assumed  and  applied  by  Pythagoras,  ib.; 
but  on  slender  authority,  33 ;  Socrates  prob- 
ably the  first  to  familiarize  the  name,  34; 
in  order  to  distinguish  himself  from  the 
Sophists,  ib. ;  soon  lost  its  Socratic  signifi- 
cation, ib.;  philosophy,  the  thing,  35;  defi- 
nitions of,  ib.:  these  criticised,  36;  perhaps 
cannot  adequately  be  defined,  ib  ,  its  defi- 
nitions in  Greek  antiquity,  ib. ;  philosophi- 
cal, and  empirical  or  historical  knowledge 
discriminated,  38,  see  Knowledge;  philo- 
sophical or  scientific  knowledge,  in  its 
widest  acceptation,  the  knowledge  of  ef- 
fects as  dependent  on  their  causes,  41; 
hence  the  aim  of  philosophy  is  to  seek 
first  causes,  ib.;  as  these  can  never  be  ac- 
tually reached,  philosophy  can  never  in 
reality  be  accomplished,  42;  finally  tends 
towards  one  Ultimate  or  First  Cause,  43; 
all  the  sciences  occupied  in  the  research  of 
causes  may  be  viewed  as  so  many  branches 
of  philosophy  in  its  widest  signification, 
ib. ;  but  properly  constituted  by  the  science 
of  mind  with  its  suite  of  dependent  sci- 
ences, ib.,  et  seq.  85;  its  primary  problem, 
43,  bound  to  make  the  mind  its  first  and 
paramount  object  of  consideration,  44; 
branches  of  the  science  of  mind,  ib. ;  mis- 
application of  the  term  philosophy  in 
Britain,  45;  as  defined  by  Aristotle,  46, 
see  Aristotle;  its  Causes,  46  et  seq.;  lie  in 
the  original  elements  of  our  constitution, 
46;  essential  or  complementary,  ib  ;  essen- 
tial apparently  twofold,  ib.;  1.  Cause  anc! 
effect,  47;  2.  Love  of  unity,  ib.,  see  Unity; 
dispositions  with  which  it  ought  to  b« 
studied,  57 — 67 ;  first  condition  of  philoso- 
phy, renunciation  of  prejudice,  57;  in  this 
Christianity  and  philosophy  at  one,  58;  phi- 
losophers unanimous  in  making  doubt  the 
first  step  to,  63;  philosophical  doubt,  what, 
64;  second  condition  of,  subjugation  of  the 
passions,  66;  its  Method,  67-76;  has  but 
one  possible  method,  67 — 72;  this  .shown  in 
relation  to  the  first  end  of  philosophy,  67-8; 
analysis  and  synthesis  the  necessary  condi- 
tions of  its  po.ssibility,  69;  these  constitute 
a  single  method,  70;  has  only  one  possible 
method,  shown  in  relation  to  its  second 
end,  70,  71;  its  history  manifests  the  more 
or  less  accurate  fulfilment  of  the  conditions 
of  one  method,  73 — 76;  its  earliest  problem, 
73;  its  sphere  as  assigned  by  Socrates,  75; 
its  aberrations  have  arisen  from  violations 
of  its  method,  77;  its  Divisions,  78—85;  ex- 
pediency of  a  division  of  philosophy,  78; 


I  N  D  K  X 


11 


the  most  ancient  division  into  Theoretical 
and  I'nictical.  7!*;  history  oftliisdis-tiiiclioii, 
79-80;  its  uiisoiiiulufss,  80;  lirst  exiilicitiy 
enounced  by  Aristotle,  79  ;  intimated  by 
riaf  o,  /*. .-  division  of,  into  Lof?ie,  I'liysics, 
and  Ethics,  probably  originated  with  Stoics, 
81 ,  universality  of  division  into  theoretical 
and  practical,  84-5;  author's  distribution  of  I 
philosophy,  86-88  ;  proposes  three  grand 
questions,  85  ;  distribution  of  subjects  in 
laculty  of,  in  universities  of  Kurope,  S9, 
true  place  and  importance  of  system  of. 
209-70;  condition  un<ler  which  the  employ- 
ment of  new  terms  in,  is  allowable,  280;  one 
great  advantage  resulting  from  the  cultiva- 
tion of.  326. 
rHll-uPoPny,  tlie  Scottish,  the  scientific  re])- 
utation  of  .Scotland  principally  founded 
on,  640;  causes  which  have  led  to  the  culti- 
vation of  sjieculative  studies  by  .Scotchmen, 
ib.;  its  origin.  642;  at  once  the  pride  and 
the  reproach  of  .Scotland,  fvl.3;  strong  gen- 
eral analogy  between,  and  that  of  Kant, 
ib. ;  account  in  which  it  is  held  in  Germany 
and  in  France.  644;  Jouffroy's  criticism  of, 
645;  general  characteristics  of,  646. 
PuuKNol-oiiV.  how  only  to  be  refuted,  650; 
the  theory  of,  what  1551;  individual  cases  of 
alleged  development  and  manifestation  of 
little  avail  in  proof  of  the  doctrine,  651;  its 
fundamental  lacts  shown  to  be  groundless, 
652—56;  the  result  of  conjecture,  656;  its 
variations,  657-58. 
Physics,  division  of  philo-sophy,  80;  the  term 
as  applied  to  the  philosophy  of  mind  inap- 
propriate. 93. 
Physical  Tntiuence.  hypothesis  of,  by  whom 

maintained,  212.  sec  Mind. 
Physical  .Science,  twofold  evil  of  exclusive 
study  of,  25;  in  its  infancy  not  material- 
izing, ib  ;  if  all  existence  be  but  mechan- 
ism, philosophical  interest  extinguished,  26 
Physioloov,  the  term  as  applied  to  the  phi- 
losophy of  mind  inappropriate.  93. 
Pic<;OLOMTM,  referred  to  on  Aristotle's  doc- 
trine of  s)H'cies.  292 
I'KTUIiKPQUK.  v  Feelings. 
PlXDAii,  on  ('u.--toni.  60. 
Plastic  Medium,  hypothesis  of,  by  some  as- 
cribed to  I'lalo,  213;  by  whom  maintained. 
213. 
Platercs,  Felix,  narrates  case  of  Oporinus, 

233  'SW  Op<u-inus 
Platner,  regarded  faculty  of  knowledge  as 
the  fundamental  jiower  of  mind.  120,  214, 
252,  389,  sr,  Sight  'kW;  545,  560,  sir  Feelings. 
Plato.  9.  21,  2l^.  34;  quoted  on  definition 
of  pliilosophy.  37.  43,  48,  56,  6(i,  75:  dis- 
tinction of  theoretical  and  practical  phi- 
losophy intimated  by.  79;  had  no  si)ecial 
term  for  consciousness  1.3<').  137:  his  doc- 
trine in    regard    to    self-apprehension    of 


Sense,  138;   maintained  the  continual  en 
ergy  of  Intellect,  218,  262,  280;   his  theory 
of  Perception,  and  principle  of  his  philos- 
ophy. 290  ;   maintained  that  a  percipient 
power  of  the  sensible  soul  sallies  out  to  the 
object,  ib.,  412,  see   Conservative   Faculty, 
41:j  ;    Platonic   Method    of  division   called 
Ai'iilijlirfily  511,  see  Analysis;  581,  see  Feel- 
ings ;  seems  to  have  held  a  doctrine  of 
pleasure  analogous  to  that  of  Aristotle.  586 
Platonists,  48,  79,  137:  the  (ireek,  their  doc 
trine  of  consciousness,  137;  the  later,  attrib- 
uted to  Plato  the  doctrine  of  I'liistic  Me- 
dium, 213;  maintained  the  continual  energy 
of  intellect,  218. 
PLEAStruE,  theory  of,  see  Feelings. 
Pliny  (the  elder),  40. 
l'LiXY(the  younger),  quoted  on  pleasure  of 

Grief,  606. 
Plotinos,  49;   his  U!-e  ofo'ui'aiCT^o'is.  13S; 
quoted  on  mental  powers.  271;  (pioted  on 
doctrine  of  species,  292  ;  distinguished  Per- 
ception from  Sensation,  334. 
Plutahch,  55,  185. 
Plutarch,  Pseudo,  quoted  on  definition  of 

philosophy,  35,  81 
Pneumatic,  see  Pneumatology. 
Pneumatologv,  term  objectionable  as  ap- 
plied to  science  of  mind,  93;  wider  than 
Psychology,  94. 
rioiTjcris,  si-e  Practice. 

PoiRET,  I'eter,  referred  to  and  quoted  as  ac- 
cepting the  duality  of  consciousness  in  its 
integrity,  203,  331,  478. 
Politics,  science  of,  presupposes  a  knowl- 
edge of  mind,  4-1;  why  usually  designated 
a  science,  83;  a  nomological  science,  87. 
PoNCius,  on  excitation  of  sixcies,  428. 
PONELLE,  179. 
I'orE.  <|uoted,  18,  27. 
l'( Kill.  376. 

Port  Koyal  Logic,  472. 
Potential,  distnictions  of,  from  actual.  124 

See  Existence. 
PoiiLLY.  on  Pleasure.  594      5.<-  Feelings. 
Power,   Keids  criticism  of  Eockc  on,  121; 
active  and  passive,  122;  this  di.sfiiiction  in 
Greek   language,  123  ;    ns  a  psychological 
term  appropriately  apjjlied  to  natural  capa- 
bilities. 124. 
PowNALL,  Governor,  93. 
Practical  Feelings,  see  Feelings. 
Practice,  irpa^is.  use  of  the  term   in  the 
Aristotelic  philosophy,  1^3:  irpmcTiifdj  and 
7roiT)Ti»c<i$,  how  distinguished,  ib.     *«•  The- 
ory. 
Practical  philosophy,  see  Theoretical. 
Practical,  .'"  Practice. 
Prescipion.  what,  474. 

Preestablishep   Harmony,  hypothcsia  o( 
»rr  Mind  ;  by  w  hom  maintained.  210. 


712 


INDEX. 


Predicate,  see  Elaborative  Faculty. 

I'REJUOICE,  influence  of,  52,  see  Unity;  early 
prejudice  the  more  dangerous  because  unob- 
trusive, 59 

I'r.KSKNTATivE  Facultv,  what,  and  its  desig- 
nations, 273,  283;  subdivided  into  I'ercep- 
tion  and  Self-Consciousness,  274.  6ee  Per- 
ception and  Sell-Consciousness. 

i'RICHAKD,  95. 

Pride,  subjugation  of,  practical  condition  of 
philosophy,  06,  633 

Priestley,  regarded  thought  as  only  a 
movement  of  matter,  57;  his  opinion  of 
Keid's  polemic  on  Perception,  298;  quoted 
on  Reid's  view  of  Locke's  doctrine  of  Per- 
ception, 304. 

Peimakv  (Qualities  of  matter,  historical  no- 
tice of  distinction  from  Secondary,  342,  et 
seq.;  primary  reducible  to  two,  —  Extension 
and  Solidity,  345;  this  reduction  involves  a 
difficulty,  346;  what,  and  how  solved,  ib.; 
347;  general  result,  —  in  the  primary  qual- 
ities, pel  ception  predominates,  in  the  secon- 
dary, sensation,  347. 

Primum  Cognitum,  see  Language. 

Pkior,  9. 

Proclus,  43,  75;  his  employment  of  crvvaiff- 
Srytris,  138,  213;  quoted  on  mental  powers, 
271. 

Property,  what,  106. 

Proposition,  see  Elaborative  Faculty. 

Protagoras,  43. 

Prudentius,  quoted,  631. 

PSELLUS,  Michael,  his  doctrine  of  conscious- 
ness, 138;  supposed  to  be  the  same  with 
Michael  P^phesius,  139. 

PsYCHOLOOY,  defined,  31,91;  preminently  a 
philosophical  science,  92;  its  wider  sphere 
as  synonymous  with  Pliilosophy  of  Mind, 
Metaphysics,  85  ;  its  narrower  .sphere  as 
synonymous  yvith  Phaenomenology  of  Mind, 
Empirical  Psychology,  Inductive  Philoso- 
phy of  Mind,  86;  as  thus  limited  properly 
called  Paenomeual  Psychology,  ib.;  its  di- 
visions how  determined,  ib. ;  >'omological, 
ib.,  see  homology;  Inferential,  88,  see  Meta- 
physics ;  origin  of  the  term,  91  ;  its  use 
vindicated,  91-2;  by  whom  first  applied  to 
science  of  mind,  95;  difficulties  and  facili- 
ties of  psychological  study,  260  et  seq.,  see 
Consciousness ;  psychological  powers,  what, 
268  ;  psychological  divisions,  what,  273; 
three  rules  of  psychological  analysis,  282; 
these  rules  have  not  been  observed  by  psy- 
chologists, ih. 

Psychological  analysis,  see  Psychology  and 
Mind. 

Psychological  divisions,  see  Psychology 
and  Mind. 

Psychological  powers,  see  Psychology  and 
3Iiud. 

Ptolsmy,  291. 


PURCHOT,  608. 

Pythagoras,  commonly  said  to  have  first 
assumed  the  name  philosopher,^;  his  view 
of  the  cliaracter  of  a  philosopher,  82;  where- 
born,  and  when  he  flourished,  33;  deiini 
tions  of  philosophy  referred  to,  37,  see  Phi- 
losophy, 56,  74. 

Quality,  what,  106;  essential  and  acciden 

tal,  ib. 
Quixtilian,  34,  83;  uses  the  term  conscious 

in  the  modern  signification,  136. 

Raleigh,  SirW.,  63. 
Ram.say,  Chevalier,  541. 
Kealisji,  Natural,  or  Natural  Dualism,  what, 
203;  that  Natural  Realism  is  the  doctrine 
of  Consciousness,  acknowledged  by  philos- 
ophers of  all  classes,  ib. ,-  objections  to  the 
doctrine  of,  detailed  and  criticized,  349— 59; 
I.  The  cognition  of  aught  external  to  the 
mind  is  equivalent  to  the  mind  acting,  and. 
therefore,  existing  out  of  itself,  349;  refuted, 
350;  II.  What  immediately  knows  must  be- 
the  same  as  or  similar  to  that  which  is 
known,  350;  influence  of  this  principle  on 
the  history  of  philosophy,  ib.;  refuted,  .352; 
III.  The  mind  can  only  know  immediately 
that  to  which  it  is  immediately  present,  ib. 
this  objection  has  been  redargued  in  three- 
different  ways;  1.  by  Sergeant,  353;  2.  by 
Empedocles,etc.,354;  .3.  by  Reid  and  Stew- 
art, »6.,-  refuted,  355-6,  see  Perception;  IV. 
The  object  of  peiception  variable,  and,, 
therefore,  subjective,  3.58  ,  proceeds  on  a 
mistake  of  what  the  object  in  jjerception  is,, 
359;  V.  The  nature  of  the  Ego  as  an  intel- 
ligence endowed  with  will,  renders  it  nec- 
essary that  there  should  be  representative 
modifications  in  the  mind  of  external  ob- 
jects, 359;  this  objection  involves  sundry 
vices,  ib. ;  these  objections  to  the  doctrine- 
of,  incompetent,  134  ;  hypothesis  of  Rep- 
resentative I'erception  substituted  in  room 
of  the  doctrine  of,  361  et  seq.  See  I'ei-cep- 
tiou. 

Reasoning,  see  Elaborative  Faculty. 

Recollection,  see  Conservative  Faculty. 

Redintegration,  law  of,  see  Reproductive 
Faculty. 

Reflection,  contained  in  consciousness,  160 
et  seq.;  see  Consciousness;  Locke  not  the 
first  to  use  the  term  in  its  psychological  ap 
plication,  162  ;  authors  by  whom  the  term 
thus  used  previously  to  Locke,  163;  distin- 
guished from  observation,  ib.;  attention 
and  reflection  acts  of  the  same  faculty,  165, 
see  Attention. 

Regis,  Sylvain,  his  division  of  philosophy, 
84. 

Regnier,  63. 

Regulative  Faculty,  what,  277,  285 ;  th« 


I 


!k 


INDEX, 


713 


tena/aeulty  not  properly  applicable  to,  277, 
f>12;  designations  of,  512-14;  nomenclature 
of  the  cognitions  due  to,  614 ;  iinportunce  of 
the  distinction  of  native  and  adventitious 
knowledge,  ib. ;  criterion  of  necessity  lirst 
enounced  by  Leibnitz,  405,  515;  partially 
anticipated  by  Descartes,  515;  and  by  Spin- 
oza, 516;  the  cnouncement  of  this  criterion 
a  great  step  in  the  science  of  mind,  ib.; 
Leibnitz  qnoted  on  criterion  of  necessity, 
516 — 20  ;  Keid  discriminated  native  from 
adventitious  knowledge  by  the  same  crite- 
rion, independently  of  Leibnitz,  520;  Held 
quoted  to  this  etTect,  52fJ-22;  Hume  ajjpre- 
hended  the  distinction  522;  Kant,  the  first 
who  fully  applied  the  criterion,  405,  522; 
philosophers  divided  in  regard  to  what  cog- 
nitions ought  to  be  classed  as  ultimate,  and 
what  as  modifications  of  the  ultimate,  523; 
Reid  and  Stewart  have  been  censured  for 
tlieir  too  easy  admission  of  first  principles, 
ib. ;  Keid  quoted  in  self  vindication,  ib.  ; 
Stewart  quoted  to  the  same  ellect,  ib. ;  that 
Keid  and  Stewart  otler  no  systematic  deduc- 
tion of  the  primary  elements  of  human  rea- 
son, is  no  valid  ground  for  disparaging  their 
labors,  524;  philosophers  have  not  yet  es- 
tablished tlie  principle  on  which  our  ulti- 
mate cognitions  are  to  be  classitied  and  re- 
duced to  system,  525;  necessity,  either  Tos- 
itive  or  Negative,  as  it  results  from  a  power 
or  from  a  powerlessness  of  mind,  525  et  seq. ; 
I)ositive  necessity  illustrated  by  the  act  of 
I'erception,  525;  by  an  arithmetical  exam- 
ple, ib. ;  negative  necessity  not  recognized 
by  philosophers,  526;  illustrated,  ib.  et  aeq.; 
principles  referred  to  in  the  discussion,  ib. 
et  seq.; —  1.  The  law  of  Non-Contradiction, 
t'fe.  ,•  2.  The  law  ot  Excluded  Miildle,  i6.  ,■ 
grand  law  of  thought,  —  That  the  Conceiv- 
able lies  between  two  contradictory  ex- 
tremes, 527  et  seq. ;  this  called  the  law  of  f  he 
Conditioned,  630;  estubJi^ihed  and  illustra- 
ted by  reterence  t<>  Sjmce.  1 "',  as  a  maxi- 
mum, 527  ;  space  either  bounded  or  not 
bounded,  ib. ;  space  as  absolutely  bounded 
inconceivable,  ib.:  space  as  infinitely  un- 
bounded inconceivable,  62S  ;  though  both 
these  contrntlictory  alternatives  are  incon- 
ceivable, one  or  other  is  yet  necessary,  ib.; 
space,  2°,  as  a  minimum,  ib.,  et  seq. ,  an  ab- 
solute minimum  of  space,  and  its  infinite 
divisibility,  alike  inciiiici'ivable,  i6.  ,•  further 
illustrntion  liy  refeix-nce  to  Time,  P  as  a 
maximum,  .620  et  .^rq.  .•  I.  time  a  parte  ante. 
as  an  absolute  whole,  inconceivable,  ib.;  2. 
time  as  an  infinite  reeress,  inconceivable. 
ib.;  3  time  as  an  intinite  i>rogr<'s.«,  Incon- 
ceivable, ill  :  time,  2-,  as  a  minimum,  i'/  . 
et  srq.  :  the  moment  ol"  time  either  divisible 
to  infinity,  or  composed  of  certain  abso- 
lutely smallest  parts,  —  both  alternatives  in- 


conceivable, i6.  ;  the  counter  opinion  to  the 
principle  of  the  Conditioned,  foui.ded  on 
vagueness  and  confusion,  530;  sum  of  the 
autlior's  doctrine,  ib.;  the  author's  doctrine 
both  the  one  true  and  the  only  orthodox 
inference,  531;  to  assert  that  the  infinite  can 
be  thought,  but  only  inadequately  thought, 
is  contradictory,  ib. ;  law  of  the  Conditioned 
in  its  applications,  532  et  seq.,  see  Causality; 
contradictions  proving  the  psychological 
theory  of  the  Conditioned,  529. 
Reid,  61  ;  defines  mind  a  posteriori.  110; 
wrongly  identities  hypothesis  and  theory, 
120;  wrong  in  his  criticism  of  Locke  on 
power.  122  et  seq. ;  gives  no  special  account 
of  Consciousness,  131,  139;  does  not  allow 
that  all  immediate  knowledge  is  conscious- 
ness, 140;  <iuoted  on  consciousness,  144-5; 
holds  consciousness  to  be  a  special  faculty, 
145,  see  Consciousness;  quoted  on  Imagina- 
tion and  Conception,  147-8;  on  Memory, 
149-50;  his  doctrine,  that  memory  is  an  im 
mediate  knowledge  of  the  jiast,  fal>e  and 
contradictory,  151—3;  the  same  holds  true- 
of  his  doctrine  of  Conception  as  an  imme- 
diate knowledge  of  the  distant,  153;  con- 
tradistinguished Consciousness  from  Per- 
ce|ition,  164  ;  principal  merit  accorded  to, 
as  a  philosopher,  1.66;  his  doctrine  of  con- 
sciousness shown  to  be  wrong  156  et  seq. ; 
from  the  principle  that  the  knowledge  of 
opi)osites  is  one.  1.6'>-7;  it  is  suicidal  of  his 
doctrine  of  an  immediate  knowledge  of  the 
external  world.  1.67  et  seq. :  it  involves  a  gen- 
eral absurdity,  168;  it  destroys  the  distinc- 
tion of  consciousness  itself,  i6. ,-  supposition 
on  which  some  of  the  self-contradictious  of 
Keid's  doctrine  may  be  avoided,  1.69;  but 
untenable,  160;  imiintains  that  Attention 
and  Reflection  are  acts  not  contained  in 
consciousuess,  16.;  wrong  in  his  censure  of 
Locke's  use  of  the  term  Reflection,  161;  and 
in  saying  that  Reflection  is  employed  in  ri"- 
lation  to  objects  of  sense,  li>2  ;  i|UOted  on 
Attention,  164;  inclines  to  the  doctrine  that 
(jod  is  the  only  real  agent  in  the  univeme, 
210;  his  theory  of  habit,  mechanical,  247, 
refuted  by  Stewart,  24S;  referreil  to  on  our 
Mental  Identity,  2»'iii:  his  doctrine  of  IVr- 
Ception  adopted  by  .Schulze,  and  oppo,«ed  by 
him  to  the  Hypothetical  Reali.<m  of  Kant, 
643  ;  his  fundamental  doctrini'  compari'i 
with  that  of  Kant.  •'bt7;  diil  not  distinguish 
the  two  forms  of  the  Repres4-nt«ti»e  Hypi>- 
theois  in  I'erception,  2'?'*—'/.';  his  historical 
view  of  the  theories  of  I'ercopflon  criti- 
cised, 2S9  et  seq..  see  rerception;  plac<  of 
the  doctrine  of  rerception  in  his  phi. '■-.►- 
jihy,  297;  was  Reid  a  Natural  Realist'  .512 
ft  '■eq.;  his  view  of  the  ■lt^lincllon  of  Intu- 
itive and  KepresenfHiivc  knowledge  oh 
scure.  S13  ;  and  hence  his  pliilosopby  in 


90 


714 


INDEX. 


volved  in  confusion,  314,  see  Knowledge; 
order  of  tlie  dir^cussion,  31C  —  1.  Grounds 
on  which  Keid  may  be  supposed  not  a  Nat- 
ural Realist,  317—322;  2.  Positive  evidence 
that  lieid  was  a  Natural  Realist,  323—5,329, 
340;  the  first  champion  of  Natural  Realism, 
in  these  latter  times,  330;  his  account  of 
Perception  and  Sensation,  333  et  seq. ;  antici- 
pated in  his  distinction  of  Perception  from 
Sensation,  334  et  seq. ;  quoted  on  primary 
and  socondary  qualities  of  matter,  343  et 
^eq.;  his  doctrine  of  Perception  as  summed 
up  by  Stewart,  354;  his  doctrine  of  Percep- 
tion involves  that  of  Occasional  Causes, 
355;  and  is  thus  exposed  to  many  objections, 
ib. ;  his  doctrine  of  Perception  compared 
with  that  of  the  author,  397  et  seq.,  see  Per- 
ception, 463,  520,  see  Regulative  Faculty-. 

JlEiD'S  Works,  author's  edition,  referred  to, 
51,  etc, 

Reixhold,  252,465,  560;  quoted  on  the  theory 
of  pleasure  of  Du  Bos  and  Pouilly,  595;  on 
that  of  Sulzer,  597  et  seq. 

Kelation,  doctrine  of,  688-9  ;  Relative  and 
Correlative,  ib. 

Eeligiox,  see  Theology  and  Deity. 

Bepeesentative  Faculty,  what,  275, 284, 449 ; 
representation  and  reproduction  not  always 
exerted  by  the  same  individual  in  equal  in- 
tensity, but  all  strong  or  weak  in  the  same 
individual  with  reference  to  the  same  class 
of  objects,  451;  the  terms  Imagination,  Phan- 
tasy, denote  most  nearly  the  representative 
process,  ib.;  philosophers  have  divided  Im- 
agination into  Reproductive  (Conception) 
and  Productive,  ib.;  this  discrimination 
unfortunate  in  itself  and  in  its  nomencla- 
ture, 452;  Imagination,  as  a  plastic  energy, 
is  a  complex  operation,  ib.;  the  act  of  rep- 
resentation, what,  ib. ;  two  powers  by  which 
the  representative  faculty  is  determined  to 
energy;  1.  The  Reproductive  Faculty,  453; 
2.  the  faculty  of  Relations,  —  Elaborative, 
ib. ;  the  Imagination  'of  common  language 
equivalent  to  the  processes  of  Representa- 
tion and  Comparisou,  454;  the  process  of 
Kepresentation  the  principal  constituent  of 
Imagination  as  commonly  understood,  i6.  ; 
Imagination  not  limited  to  objects  of  sense, 
ib.  ;  Aucillon  quoted,  455 — 7;  three  princi- 
pal orders  in  which  Imagination  represents 
ideas  —  1.  Natural;  2.  Logical;  3.  Poetical, 
455  ;  associations  tedious,  unpleasing,  and 
agreeable,  456;  peculiar  kinds  of  Imagina- 
tion determined  by  peculiar  orders  of  asso- 
ciation, ib. ;  difference  between  a  cultivated 
and  a  vulgar  mind,  ib. ;  dreaming,  somnam- 
bulism, and  reverie,  effects  of  Imagination, 
determined  by  association,  457  et  seq.;  An- 
cillon  quoted,  459-60  ;  the  happiness  and 
misery  of  the  individual  dei)endent  on  the 
character  of  his  habitual  associations,  459 ; 


influence  of  Imagination  on  human  life, 
459-60;  Imagination  employs  the  organs  of 
sense  in  the  representations  of  sensible  ob- 
jects, 461,  see  also  386  ;  voluntary  motions 
imitated  in  and  by  the  Imagination,  461; 
feelings  concomitant  of  Imagination,  618, 
see  Feelings;  as  Reproductive  and  as  Plas- 
tic, ib. ;  an  act  of  Imagination  involves  the 
comprehension  of  the  manifold  as  a  single 
whole,  619  ;  office  of  the  Plastic  Imagina- 
tion, ib. 

Representative  Perception,  hypothesis  of, 
see  Perception. 

Reproductive  Faculty,  what,  275,  283,  428; 
the  name  reproductive  inappropriate,  427; 
limitation  in  which  name  employed,  ib.; 
interest  excited  by  the  phenomenon  of  Re- 
production, ib. ;  Aristotle's  analysis  of  the 
phenomenon  nearly  perfect,  ib. ;  the  train 
of  thought  subject  to  laws,  428;  this  illus- 
trated by  Hobbes,  ib. ;  the  expression  train 
of  thought  includes  the  pha;nomena  of  Cog- 
nition, Feeling,  and  Conation,  429;  is  there 
any  law  besides  that  of  simple  connection 
which  regulates  this  train?  ib.;  the  point 
on  which  philosophers  differ,  and  question 
to  be  considered,  ib. ;  conditions  of  Repro- 
duction as  generalized  by  philosophers,  — 
in  all  seven,  ib. ;  notice  of  opinions  of  phi- 
losophers on  laws  of  Association,  430;  Aris- 
totle reduces  the  laws  of  Association  to 
three,  and  implicitly  to  one,  ib. ;  St  Au- 
gustin  explicitly  reduces  these  laws  to  one, 
which  the  author  calls  the  law  of  Redin- 
tegration, ib.;  opinions  of  Malebranche, 
Wolf,  Bilflnger,  Hume,  Gerard,  Beattie, 
Stewart,  Brown,  noticed,  ifi.;  the  laws  enu- 
merated admit  of  reduction  to  two,  and 
these  two  again  to  one  grand  law,  431 ;  the 
influence  of  the  special  laws  as  associating 
principles  illustrated,  432  et  seq.;  I.  the  law 
of  Smiultaneity,  i6.,-  II.  The  law  of  Affinity, 
its  subordinate  applications,  —  1.  Resem- 
blance, ib.;  2  Contrariety,  433;  3.  Contigu- 
ity, 434;  4.  Whole  and  Parts,  ib.;  5.  Cause 
and  Effect,  435;  Simultaneity  and  Affinity 
resolvable  into  the  one  grand  law  of  Redin- 
tegration, 435;  no  legitimate  presumption 
against  the  truth  of  the  law  of  Redintegra- 
tion if  found  inexplicable,  435:  U.  Schmid 
quoted,  438;  attempted  illustration  of  the 
ground  on  which  this  law  reposes,  from  the 
unity  of  the  subject  of  the  mental  energies, 
437;  the  laws  of  Simultaneity  and  Affinity 
explicable  on  the  same  principle,  438; 
thoughts  apparently  unassociated  seem  to 
follow  each  other  immediately,  439;  two 
modes  of  explication  adopted  by  philoso- 
phers,'^0;  to  be  explained  on  the  principle 
of  latent  modifications,  ih.;  the  counter 
solution  untenable,  ib.,  see  also  244,  245-6. 
253  .347;  Reproductive  Faculty  divided  iutc 


INDEX, 


715 


two,  —  Spontaneous  Suggestion  and  Remi- 
niscence, 275,  441;  what  lieniinisctnce  in- 
volves, ib. ;  St.  AugustinV  analysis  of  Kemi- 
niscence, — its  conJition  the  law  ofTotality, 
442;  Cardaillac  (juoted,  443 — 19;  defect  in 
the  analysis  of  Memory  and  Keproduction 
by  psychologists,  443;  element  in  the  pha;- 
nomena,  which  the  common  theory  fails  to 
explain,  444;  conditions  under  which  Kemi- 
niscence  is  determined  to  exertion,  445;  re- 
lations of  our  thoughts  among  themselves 
and  with  the  determining  circumstances 
of  the  moment,  448;  geueraJ  conclusions, 
—thoughts  awakened  not  only  in  succes- 
eion  but  simultaneously,  449;  of  these  some 
only  become  objects  of  clear  conscious- 
ness, ib. 

Retkntiox,  .«<•«  Conservative  Faculty. 

Hevkiue,  an  effect  of  Imagination  deter- 
mined by  Association,  457. 

I;iiv;tokk\  why  usually  designated  an  art, 

I!ic  iiAl;l>us,  292 
IIU'iiTEn.  Jean  Paul,  9. 
IflTTEI!,  113. 

I;i::neu,  533. 

RoELL,  on  Descartes' doctrine  of  Perception, 

•Sfil. 
l!oME.  Val.,  36. 

KOD38EAU,  493. 

IfovKit-Coi.LAUD,  recommended  the  l^cottish 

Philosophy  in  France,  644. 
Rl'HXKEXirs,  420,  422 
Kfsii.  I>r.,  case  of  mental  latency  gi\'eu  by, 

237. 

Sanscrit,  expresses  syntactical  relations  by 
flixinn.  175. 

ScAi.KiEU  (Joseph  Justus),  180,  see  Abstrac- 
tion; 413,  see  Conservative  Faculty;  his 
great  memory,  ib. 

ScAi.ioER  (Julius  Cjcsar),  98,  215,  271;  on 
Touch,  2S1  ■37i!.  41.3,  n'e  Conservative  Fac- 
ulty ;  his  curiosity  regarding  Reminiscence, 
428,  5UII,  see  Language. 

SiiiviBi.KK,  .35,  83. 

SiHEiKi.KU.  .35,  46, 109,  570. 

fc!ciiELi.iN<;.  referred  to,  5;  on  dclinition  of 
pliiloM.phy,  3ti,  202. 

Slim  i.i:k.  quoted,  62. 

^«cllI.ElKltMA^Il^;I!.  113. 

SciiMiu.  M  .96,252.  414.  429,431;  quoted,  439, 
srr  Reproductive  Faculty. 

Sciioi.ASTif  ))liil(>sophy.  76;  great  majority 
of  schoolmen  lu-liI  doctrine  of  >iM-eies,  292; 
Certain  of  distinguished  Perception  from 
.*^ensation.  334;  regarded  excitation  of  the 
fjieries  with  peculiar  wondiT.  427:  (|ues- 
tion  with,  whether  tiod  the  only  etl'.cient 
cause,  542. 

ficHVLZE  (G.  E.),  262,349,  369,  360,  670.  See 
Feelings. 


Schwab,  546. 

Science,  application  of  the  term,  81.  See 
Art. 

SCOTISTS,  272. 

ScoTUP  (Duns),  9;  see  Knowledge;  liis  doc- 
trine of  reflection,  163,  176;  his  doctrine  ol 
mentf.l  powers,  271,  292,  316. 

Seco'dauy  (qualities  of  matter,  see  I'rimary. 

Secusdus,  Joaunes,  quoted,  339. 

Self,  see  Ego. 

Selp-Coxsciocsxep.s,  faculty  of,  a  branch 
of  the  I'resentative  F'aculty,  400;  philoso- 
phers less  divided  in  opinion  touching, 
than  in  regard  to  Perception,  ih  :  con- 
trasted with  Perception,  their  fundamen- 
tal forms,  401  el  ser/.;  its  sphere,  402;  two 
modes  of  dealing  with  the  phacnomena 
given  in,  ib.,  tt  seq.;  corresjionds  willi  tlie 
Reflection  of  Locke,  404;  the  mere  admis- 
sion of  a  faculty  of,  of  no  import  in  deter- 
mining the  anti-sensual  character  of  a  plii- 
losophy,  410. 

Sei,p-Love,  an  enemy  to  philosophical  pro- 
gress, 66. 

Sexeca  (L.  A.),  35, 59;  on  division  of  philoso- 
phy, 78,  80.  291,  636;  his  tragedies  quoted, 
445,  606,  609. 

Seneca  (M.  A.),  426. 

Sensation,  see  I'erception. 

Sensations,  see  Feelings. 

Senti.ments,  .vfe  Feelings. 

Sekgeant,  41,  54;  paradoxically  accepted 
the  duality  of  consciousness,  203.  asi.  353; 
his  view  of  Locke's  doctrine  of  I'erception, 
307. 

'S  CiRAVESANDE,  312,  546. 

Shame,  6.32. 

Shakspeare,  quoted,  339;  on  Resemblance 
us  principle  of  Association,  432,  457. 

SllENSTONE,  (jnoted,  607. 

SlOHT,  sense  of,  two  counter  questions  re- 
garding sphere  of,  379  et  seq.;  —  1.  Does 
vision  afford  us  a  i)riniary  knowledge  _of 
extension.'  ib.,etseq.:  color  the  proper  ob- 
ject of,  ib.;  Berkeley  the  lirst  to  deny  that 
extension  object  of,  ib.;  tliis  also  denied  by 
others,  ib  .  etsrq.;  the  jjcrceplion  of  exten- 
sion nece.><<arily  given  in  the  jHTception  of 
colors.'3S3,  .3.S5;  proof  that  Sight  i>  cogni- 
zant of  extetision.  3>vj;  the  .-^eiise  by  pre- 
eminence coni|)etent  (o  tlic  |M;rceplion  ot 
extension,  386;  D'Alembert  ijuoted  in  sup- 
port of  foregoing  view.  388:  2.  Is  Siglit 
exclusively  the  sense  Which  afl'ords  us  a 
knowledge  of  e.xtension.  or  doe.t  it  afford 
this  knowledge  only  in  conjunction  with 
Touch?  389  el  seq.;  tlic  former  alternative 
maintained  by  Plainer,  i'*..  «•/  srq  ;  phe- 
nomena that  f;ivor  Plalner's  doctrine.  .391; 
supported  also  by  <  'he.'elden's  cnse  of  couch- 
ing. .392  ri .'"/  the  author  profesM-s  no  de- 
cided o|)inion  on  the  question,  393;  3.  Uow 


71  !3 


INDEX. 


do  we  obtain  our  knowledge  of  Visual  Dis- 
tance? ib.,  el  seq.;  visual  distance,  betore 
Berkeley,  regarded  as  an  original  percep- 
tion, lb.;  circunif^tances  which  assist  us  in 
Ibrniiiig  our  judgment  respecting  visual 
distance,  on  what  dependent,  39-1;  Berke- 
ley's doctrine  thrown  into  doubt  by  the 
analogy  of  the  lower  animals,  395;  Adam 
Smith  quoted  to  this  effect,  ib. 

SiMPLicius,  his  employment  of  (rucaicr^rjo-is, 
135-6;  on  Touch,  376. 

Simon  Simonius,  referred  to  on  Aristotle's 
doctrine  of  species,  293,  447. 

Sims,  his  mistaken  -criticism  Of  the  author's 
results  of  experiments  ou  weight  of  the 
braiu,  661. 

Sinuses,  Frontal,  their  nature  and  relations, 
654,662;  their  bearing  on  the  doctrines  of 
Phrenology,  654-5,  662  et  sfq.;  nature  and 
effect  of,  667-8 ;  indication  of,  668;  frequency 
of,  669—671;  extent  of,  672;  table  exhibit- 
ing their  variable  extent  and  unapprecia- 
ble  impediment  in  a  phrenological  relation, 
675. 

SiNSAUT,  distinguished  Perception  from  Sen- 
sation, 334. 

Skill,  games  of,  617.    See  Feelings. 

Sloth,  subjugation  of,  practical  condition 
of  philosophy,  57,  66. 

Smith.  Adam,  referred  to  on  wonder  as  cause 
of  philosophy,  56;  on  object  of  Perception, 
374,  377,  393,  395,  see  Sight ;  quoted  on  nom- 
inalism, 477.  494,  5ee  Language. 

Socrates,  probably  the  first  to  familiarize 
the  term  philosopher.  34,  see  Philosophy ;  on 
conditions  of  self-knowledge,  57,  75,  178, 
see  Attention. 

Somnambulism,  consciousness  without  mem- 
ory the  characteristic  of,  223;  the  want. of 
memory  in  our  visions  in  sleep  does  not 
prove  them  to  have  been  somnambulic.  224; 
an  effect  of  imagination  determined  by  as- 
sociation, 4.58,  400. 

Sophists,  the,  noticed,  34,  75. 

SORBIERE,  308. 

SosicuATES,  referred  to,  33. 

Space,  known  a  priori,  extension,  a  posteriori, 

346;  a  form  of  the  faculty  of  Perception, 

401 ;  if  space  be  a  necessary  form  of  thought, 

is  the  mind  itself  extended?  402,  525,  see 

Regulative  Faculty. 
Species,  oi)inions  regarding,  291  et  seq.,  see 

Ari.stotle  and  Aristotelians. 
Spinoza,  regarded  faculty  of  knowledge  as 

the  fundamental  power  of  mind,  129,  516, 

see  Regulative  Faculty. 
Spirit,  term    objectionable    as    applied    to 

mind,  94;    corresponding   terms  in  other 

languages,  ib. 
Spuuzhei>[,  how  he  met  the  objections  to 

Plirenology  from  the  existence  and  extent 

of  the  Frontal  Sinuses,  654. 


Stallbaum,  213,  290. 

State,  what,  106. 

Statius,  quoted,  606. 

Steeb,  180. 

Steinbakt,  493,  see  Language. 

Stewart  (Dugald),  64,  94,  95;  referred  to  on 
Descartes'  doctrine  of  Substance,  108;  gives 
no  special  account  of  Consciousness,  131; 
does  not  allow  that  all  immediate  knowl- 
edge is  consciousness,  140;  liolds  conscious- 
ness to  be  a  special  faculty,  145,  see  Reid; 
maintains  that  Attention  and  Reflection 
are  acts  not  contained  in  consciousness, 
160;  misrepresents  Reid"s  doctrine  of  the 
meaning  and  difference  of  Attention  and 
Reflection,  161;  his  oversight  in  regard  to 
discussion  of  Attention,  162;  quoted  ou  the 
question  as  to  wliether  we  can  attend  to 
more  than  a  single  object  at  once,  165—167; 
his  doctrine  on  this  subject  criticised,  168; 
his  e.xcellent  observations  on  the  practical 
bearings  of  Attention,  182;  confounds  the 
two  degrees  of  the  evidence  of  conscious- 
ness, 189;  maintained  that  God  is  the  only 
real  agent  in  the  universe,  210;  his  expla- 
nation of  an  anomalous  phsenomeua  of 
Association,  245  et  seq. ;  difficulties  of  his 
theory  ou  this  point,  246;  quoted  against 
the  mechanical  theory  of  habit,  248  et  seq. ; 
his  own  theory  on  this  point  refuted,  2.5ii; 
denies  that  the  faculties  of  the  mind  are 
independent  existences,  268;  his  distinction 
of  the  qualities  of  matter,  345;  quoted  to 
the  effect  that  we  first  obtain  a  knowledge 
of  the  parts  of  the  object  in  Perception, 
366  et  seq  ;  maintained  that  extension  is  not 
an  object  of  Sight,  368;  quoted,  404,  see 
Locke;  408,  see  Gassendi;  his  great  mem- 
ory, 426;  his  chapter  on  memory  in  Ele- 
ments recommended,  427,  429:  on  laws  of 
Association,  430;  quoted  on  law  of  Simul- 
taneity, 431;  quoted  on  terms  abstract  and 
general,  474;  a  Nominalist,  476;  quoted  on 
Kominalism,  484,  494,  see  Language;  524, 
see  Regulative  Faculty,  541. 

Stoics,  borrowed  their  division  of  pbilosO" 
phy  from  Seneca,  79. 

Sturm,  J.  C.  119,  541,  542. 

Strigelius,  Victorinus,  108,  513. 

SuABEDissEN,  414,  See  Conservative  Faculty. 

SuAREZ,  brought  into  use  the  term  injiuxtts, 
213;  his  definition  of  a  cause,  ib. 

Sub.;ect,  of  a  proposition,  see  Elaborative 
Faculty. 

Sub.ject,  2.  Substratum,  what,  96, 104;  con- 
scious subject  what,  110;  use  of  the  term 
subject  vindicated,  111  ;  terms  subject  and 
object,  their  origin  and  meaning.  111,  112, 
errors  arising  from  want  of  these  terms,  112, 

Sub.jective,  see  Subject. 

Sublime,  see  Feelings. 

Substance,  the  meaning  of.  104, 107;  philos 


I X  D  E  X . 


717 


ophers  have  fallen  into  three  errors  regard- 
ins,  108;  law  of,  532. 

SuBSTAJiTiALiSM,  see  ConsciousDess. 

SUBSTEATOM,  see  Subject. 

.suLZEU,  252,  500;  ou  pleasure,  595,  see  Feel- 
ings 

2jfai<r^(Tts,  used  as  equivalent  to  conscious- 
ness, 1.38;  its  proi^r  meaning,  i'.*- ;  employed 
by  I'roclus,  PlotinuK,  Siinpliciiis,  llierocles, 
Sextus  Erapiricus,  Michael  Jiphesius,  Plu- 
tarch, ih. 

SuvdSriais,  how  employed,  138 

^vvtirtyixoffts,  how  employed,  138. 

iJYLLOOis.M,  in  thought  one  simultaneous  act, 
175,  set:  Elaborative  Faculty. 

Sympathy,  e.32 

SY^K8IU8,  quoted  on  mental  powers,  270. 

Synthesis,  what,  69.  See  Analysis  and  Phi- 
losophy. 

Synthetical  judgment,  what,  681. 

System,  see  I'hilosophy. 

Tacitus,  quoted,  636. 

Taste,  judgments  of,  what,  024;  either  Pure 
or  .Mixed.  <VJ,H.     Sie  Feelings. 

Teiiut.m  or  Knniii,  see  Feelings. 

Telksius,  quoted  on  reduction  of  Senses  to 
I'ouch,  374, 

Tkllkz,  316,  484. 

Tennesiann,  referred  to  on  definition  of  phi- 
losophy, a'.,  202,  210,  272,  58C,  650. 

TtRTliLLlAN.  his  use  of  cnnseiftitia,  136  ; 
rjuoted  on  mental  powers,  270,  613. 

Tetens,  418. 

Thales,  56.  74.  I 

Themistuts,  110;  referred  to  on  Arlstotlr'.« 
floctriue  of  species,  "JM;  quoted  on  Touch, 
376.  j 

TnEMiSToci.ES,  his  great  memory,  426. 

Theology,  presupposes  u  knowledge  of  mind, 
44.     Sef  IVity. 

THKorniiASTfs,  40.  I 

Tueokktical  and  Practical  Philosophy,  hi.i- 
tory  of  the  distinction,  "9,  121;  identical 
withdivi.sion  info  Physical  and  Ktliical,  Wt; 
uiisoiiiiil,  ih.;  universality  of,  79  el  set/.  See 
I'liilosopliy. 

TiiEoiiETUAL,  see  Theory. 

TliEOitY,  abuse  of  the  term  by  F.nglish  writers, 
120;  theory  and  jiractice  distinguished,  120. 

Thomas,  St  ,  fre  A(|nin»s  i 

TlioMASifs,  Christian,  513.  I 

TiiouoiiT,  Laws  of,  679.  See  Rcgtilative  Fac- 
ulty. 

TnonoiiT  Proper,  aee  Elaborativc  Faculty. 

Th iiisoT,  2W. 

'!  iF.iiEMANN  (Dietrich),  163.  378. 

TlEl)EMANN(Friedrich),  referred  to  in  regar.l 

to  weight  of  brain,  tWil. 
Time,  a  form  of  thought,  528,  648.     See  licg- 

uliiti\e  Fiicnlty. 
TiTTEL,  493.     See  Language.  i 


ToLAxn,  513. 

1 OLETUS.  272,  493.  See  Language. 
Toucu,  seube  of,  two  problems  under,  374  et 
sei  ;  —  \  May  all  the  Senses  be  unaly^id 
into  Touch.'  ib..  et  ser,  ,  in  what  resiK.-ct  the 
allirniative  of  this  question  correct,  lo.  ,•  does 
Touch  comprehend  a  plurality  ol  Senses? 
375  et  seq. ;  afDrmative  maintained  by  the 
ar.thor,  ib.;  historical  notices  ol  this  prob- 
lem, ib.,  et  seq.;  Touch  to  be  divided  from 
sen.«ible  feeling,  reasons  ;  —  1.  From  the 
analogy  of  the  special  senses,  377;  2.  From 
the  different  quality  of  the  ijcrceptions  and 
sensations  themselves,  378;  special  sense  of, 
its  sphere  and  organ,  ih. ;  its  proi>er  organ 
requires,  as  condition  of  its  exercise,  the 
movement  of  the  voluntary  muscles,  37a. 
See  Sight. 

ToussAiNT,  179. 

Tralles,  252. 

Tre>delemiero.  104,  124. 

TRis.MECiisTLS,  Hermes  (the  mythical). quoted 
on  mental  powers,  271;  his  detlnitiou  of  the 
Deity,  387. 

Troxler,  465. 

Tucker,  Abraham,  177. 252,  307. 

TURWOT,  497.     Srr  Language. 

TYRiu8,Max!mu.s,  quoted  on  Plato's  doctrine 
of  relation  of  mind  to  body.  213. 

TZETZES.  relerred  toon  duliuitioiis  of  philos- 
ophy, 36. 

Ultimate  Cause,  synonymous  with  First 
Cau.se,  42. 

Unity,  love  of,  an  eflicient  cau.se  of  phiIo.«o- 
phy,47;  |>erc<ption,  imagination,  jtnlgmeiit, 
etc.,  unifying  acts,  47-K;  testimonies  to, — 
Anaxagora>.  the  Platonists,  Leibnitz,  Kant. 
I'luto.  Plolinus,  Aristotle,  Augustin,  48-9; 
a  guiding  principle  of  philosophy,  49;  a 
source  of  error,  50;  intln.nee  of  pr»-con- 
ceived  opinions  reducible  to,  52;  all  lan- 
guages express  the  mental  oinratioiis  by 
words  which  denote  a  reUuction  of  the 
many  to  the  one,  48. 

Universities,  their  principal  and  proper 
end,  10. 

'TnSarcuTis,  105,  108.     Sr^  Substance. 

Useful,  see  Utility  and  Knd.s. 

Utility  of  two  kinds,  — Abi^ohilp  and  Rela- 
tive, 2,  16;  the  nsiful.  what  .3,  15.  .V.'*.':  util- 
ity higher  and  low.r,  3;  compunnivr  utility 
of  human  sciences,  how  to  lie  estinnited.  4, 
I'l;  misapplication  of  the  term  um-iuI,  6; 
true  criterion  of  the  utility  ol  scieiiccji,  L' ; 
utility  of  sciences  dilTrreiitly  estimated  i:i 
ancient  and  modern  timeit.  16. 

Valfhiis  Maximtr,  180. 
A' A  MTV,  i'<:il. 
Varro.  i|noted.  ."IVJ. 
Vkrri,  on  pleasure.  ,598 


718—738 


INDEX. 


Vico,  513. 

ViETA,  180. 

Virgil,  quoted,  47, 97,  460,  579. 

Visual  Distauce,  see  Sight. 

Vital  Sense,  Setisus  Va^s,  sj-nonyms  of,  377 ; 
sensations  belonging  to,  614.  See  Kant  and 
Leidenfrost. 

VivEs  (Ludovicus),  493,  see  Language  ;  on 
pleasure,  590. 

Voltaire,  his  illustration  of  the  relativity 
of  human  knowledge,  101  ;  first  recom- 
mended the  doctrines  of  Locke  to  his  coun- 
trymen, 376,  644 

Walch,  546. 

Watts  (Dr.),  his  doctrine  of  substance,  108. 

Weiss,  35,  .564. 

Wenzel,  35. 

Werenfels  (S.),  quoted,  185. 

Whately  (Archbishop),  82,  475. 

Whole,  different  kinds  of,  509. 

Will  distinguished   from  Desire,  128.     See 

Conation  and  Liberty. 
Willis,  his  attribution  of  mental  functions 

to  different  parts  of  the  nervous  system, 

650. 
Wilson  (Prof.  John),  quoted   on  Brown's 

doctrine  of  Causality,  537. 
Wit,  620.    See  Feelings. 


Wolf,  referred  to  on  definition  of  philoso 
pliy,  35,  41 ;  regarded  faculty  of  knowledge 
as  the  fundamental  power  of  mind,  129; 
quoted  on  Ueflection,  161;  held  hypotheisis 
of  Preestablished  Harmony,  208;  coincides 
with  Leibnitz  on  the  question  of  the  con- 
tinual consciousness  of  the  mind,  221,  271, 
430,  see  Reproductive  Faculty;  447,  513;  at- 
tempted to  demonstrate  the  law  of  .Suffi- 
cient Reason  from  that  of  Contradiction, 
546,  592,  see  Feelings. 

Wonder,  an  auxiliary  cause  of  philosophy, 
54;  testimonies  to  its  influence,  —  Plato, 
Aristotle,  Plutarch,  Bacon,  Adam  Smith, 
55;  affords  an  explanation  of  the  order  in 
which  objects  studied,  56, 

Young  (Dr.  John),  376;  his  general  coinci- 
dence with  the  doctrines  of  Dr.  Thomas 
Brown,  381 

Young  (Dr.  Thomas),  372, 

Zabarella  (Jacob),  68,  272;  referred  to,  on 
Aristotle's  doctrine  of  species,  292,501,  511, 

Zedler'S  Lexikon,  214,  546. 

Zend,  the  Eleatio,  arguments  of  against  mo- 
tion, 530, 

ZWIKGLI,  61. 


i 


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